Hunter cleared his throat. “And your jeans. Don’t forget them.”
I shimmied out of them and hung my wet clothes over the windows to dry. When his eyes glazed over, I slowly unclasped my bra and let it fall beneath the seat. My nipples puckered instantly.
“I don’t want to catch a cold.” I pointed out.
With a groan, Hunter yanked me onto his lap, roughly pulling at my thighs so that I was straddling him. His hard-on pressed against my mound, causing me to gasp.
“Fuck, I’ve missed these,” he said, reaching up to squeeze my breasts. My head fell back as he leaned forward to capture a nipple between his lips. As he suckled at one breast and then the other, I leaned against the glove compartment, bringing him down with me.
Hunter made a rough sound of pleasure that made my pussy clench. “You like that? How about when I do this?” He swirled his tongue around my taut nipple, and I cried out, arching my back. Our bodies were starting to sweat now, the windshield fogging up from our heat. It made me feel like we were in our own little world.
His hand reached down to rub my clit through the lacy material. “I bet no other guy ever made you feel like this.” When I moaned in response, he slipped his fingers inside my panties. “Tell me about your past lovers, geek. Did they ever satisfy you in bed?”
I stopped writhing as the lust clogging my mind gradually began to clear. We hadn’t seen each other in five years. We were seconds away from fucking. My body was on fire, my pussy begging for his undivided attention.
But here he was wanting to talk about my past lovers. As if he wanted to confirm that Hunter Cox had been the best fuck of my life.
I lay over the glove compartment and stared up at the stormy sky through the foggy windshield, watching as pattering raindrops trailed down the glass. I could feel Hunter’s gaze on me as his slippery fingers stroked my swollen folds. When he reached between us to free his cock, I lifted my head.
“Don’t.”
His movements stilled at my abrupt command. His green eyes blazing, he slowly resumed stroking my clit.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Oh, but I do.” I struggled to sit up, but his hand was still inside my panties, and it seemed he had no intention of removing it anytime soon. My muscles were so taut that I was seconds away from an orgasm. Desperate, I tried to get off his lap.
Hunter must have seen the frantic expression on my face. His mouth set in a grim line, he deliberately pressed down and dragged the pad of his thumb across my clit, sending me toppling over the edge. My body helplessly bucked against his as the most wonderful release flooded through me, my soaked pussy contracting painfully against the heat of his bare stomach. Not content with just one, Hunter continued to stroke me, and that soon brought out another dizzying orgasm to the surface. Breathless and spent, I buried my hot face in his neck as he hugged me close, his hard-on pressing against my arse.
“Want to tell me what changed your mind?” he asked quietly once my breathing had returned to normal.
I guiltily avoided his eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“But I wanted to.” He paused briefly, his gaze unwavering. “You have no idea how much.”
“What about . . .” I trailed off, gesturing behind me. His raging hard-on was showing no signs of letting up. I couldn’t blame him.
Hunter winced. “Maybe you should go back to your seat now,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. He helped me across to the driver’s seat and watched as I pulled off my panties, balanced my legs on the dashboard, and cleaned myself the best I could.
“You know, this won’t make my erection go away,” he said, leaning forward to get a better view of my bare pussy.
“Then maybe you should take care of it. There’s baby lotion in the glove compartment.”
He lifted a brow in appreciation. “No longer the innocent virgin, are you?”
I set my legs down and crossed them, completely naked as I fluttered my lashes at him. “I’ve had plenty of experience since then. Five years of it, if I recall.”
Hunter didn’t like that reminder. I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed up, the way his scruffy jaw ticked.
Shrugging, I reached down to swipe my bra off the floor and quickly clasped it back on.
“Why did you change your mind earlier?” he demanded, and this time, it was clear that he wanted a straight answer from me.
“Isn’t it obvious? You asked about my past lovers while you were about to fuck me. That’s enough to piss off any sane woman.”
Hunter fell silent, studying me carefully. After a while, he grabbed his semi-dry T-shirt and pulled it on.
“Get dressed.” He ordered.
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to drive me home. And I want to show you where I live.”
Grumbling, I struggled for several minutes to pull on my still-wet jeans, sans undies. After I yanked my T-shirt over my head, Hunter settled into his seat, the bulge beneath his shorts still clearly visible.
“Can you feed me once we get there?” I asked when my stomach let out an angry growl. “I didn’t have breakfast this morning.”
“I’ll make you an omelet. And I should have a box of Weet-Bix somewhere.”
Hunter was such a health freak, which happily I was not. “Got any Lucky Charms as well?” I gave what I thought was an alluring sideways glance. “My sated body needs something sweet.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just drive, you dag,” he muttered, but the small smile hovering over his lips didn’t escape my attention.
Chapter 9
Hunter’s humble abode turned out to be a penthouse on the fifty-third floor of some fancy schmancy building just five minutes from Westward Park. I stared at the concierge manning the front desk, then gaped at the chandeliers hanging from impossibly high ceilings. When I exited the elevator and followed Hunter into his living room, I gasped at seeing all the glass. So much glass everywhere. I briefly wondered if it was strong enough to withstand all that pelting rain.
“Please tell me you don’t walk around naked,” I said in awe.
He pulled off his T-shirt, heading toward the laundry room. “Not here, no. But definitely in my bedroom.” He disappeared from my sight, reappearing moments later with fresh towels and a large dress shirt. “Dry yourself and change into this. I’ll be in the kitchen making your omelet.”
While Hunter was busy cracking eggs and chopping up vegetables, I wandered around the penthouse like a child in a candy store. His home was stunningly beautiful; and yes, even the bedrooms had floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking Westward Park, cafes, art galleries, and other cultural attractions.
How in the heck can he afford this place?
Once I dried and changed into the white dress shirt, I tossed my wet clothes into the dryer and headed into the kitchen just in time to see Hunter pouring the egg mixture into the frying pan.
“Took you long enough,” he said, smiling at me. He nodded at the stacked plates near the sink. “Give us a hand and set the table, will you?”
Five minutes later, a plump folded omelet sat glistening before me, filled with chopped tomatoes, onions, ham, and melted cheese. Starved, I shoveled a few forkfuls into my eager mouth before pausing to speak.
“This is really good,” I said, then bent down to shovel more egg into my mouth. Belatedly, I noticed that Hunter wasn’t eating. “Where’s your omelet?”
“I’m not hungry.” He was staring at me, his gaze contemplative.
“Uh, okay. So . . . you’re just going to sit there and watch me eat?”
“That’s right.”
I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “Suit yourself.” I attempted small talk as he sat there brooding, his eyes never leaving my face. “So tell me. How do you afford to live in a gorgeous place like this?”
“Advertising money. And a fucking rich roommate.” He leaned forward, brows furrowed. “What were you doing at Westward Park? I’ve never seen you there before.
And believe me, geek, I’ve been jogging there for quite some time.”
The time for confessions had arrived. Smiling guiltily, I set my fork down. “Well, you see, it recently came to my attention that you had moved to Los Angeles. So I googled your name and found your Instagram page. And when I was checking out the photos, I realized that I recognized the park where you were jogging at. So . . .”
“So you stalked me, and this whole thing wasn’t a coincidence.”
The stalking part was a bit much, but he wasn’t completely wrong as well. “I’ve been going there for two weekends straight, hoping to see you, but I didn’t go with any kind of expectation. Quite honestly, I’d have been perfectly happy just seeing you from afar.”
His brooding expression didn’t go away, which made me nervous. Did he think I was similar to those crazy women who stalked him on a daily basis? Was he starting to regret what had happened in the car?
“Five years ago,” he said finally, clearing his throat, “you heard me calling after you, but you still drove away. And you left Sydney without giving me a chance to apologize for being a dickhead.” When I stayed quiet, he continued on. “From that night on, you pretty much ruined other women for me. And that’s why I asked about your past lovers when we were in the car. Because I had to know. Because it fucking pissed me off that, unlike me, you might actually have fucked other people and moved on.”
I was slow to register the meaning behind his words. “Wait. You’re telling me you haven’t lain with women for the past five years?”
He snorted at my antiquated vernacular. “That’s right. I haven’t lain with any woman after you. Plenty have gone down on me, but I’ve never actually fucked any of them.”
Tense silence fell between us as we stared at each other. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Was he for real? Five years ago, I’d thought that he had ruined everyone else for me, that I was doomed to a lifetime of joyless sex because no one would ever compare to Hunter Cox. Yet here he was, confessing that I’d also done the same. That I had ruined him.
It was mind-boggling, to say the least. So I decided to give him another confession, the one he’d wanted to hear in the car. I felt I owed him that after what he’d just told me.
“I had three other lovers after you,” I said, watching as Hunter stiffened in his seat. “I met the first one during my senior year in college, the second one from a writing club, and the third from a blind date. They were all nice guys; cute and smart, too.” I drew in a shaky breath. “But you were right five years ago. Every time we had sex, all I could think about was you. It was your face I saw, your hands that touched me, your mouth that kissed me. Predictably, none of those relationships worked out in the end. And it was all because of you, you selfish bastard.”
Hunter’s eyes softened. “Listen, Roe –”
His phone suddenly buzzed on the breakfast table, cutting him off. Annoyed, he glanced down, then let out a sigh. “I have to take this. Be right back.” He grabbed his phone and disappeared into one of the rooms, leaving me alone to sit at the breakfast table. I finished off the rest of the omelet and then went into the kitchen to search for more food.
I was staring into the open fridge when heavy footsteps approached me from the right. Hunter must have finished with his call. Smiling, I shut the door and whirled around. I was still peckish, and the heavy rain outside brought out a deep craving for something warm and soupy. I was about to suggest that we order takeout when I came face to face with a stranger who looked oddly familiar. He let out a startled oath, jogging my memory.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I spat out, glaring up at his bearded face and unkempt hair.
It was Wally Henderson, my drug lord neighbor from Sydney.
Chapter 10
“I live here?” Wally gave his answer hesitantly, as if he wasn’t too sure himself.
My surprised anger shifted to suspicion. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re the rich roommate.” When he nodded, I shook my head in disbelief. “Seriously? Just how much money did you earn selling drugs?”
“Selling drugs?” Hunter returned to the living room, astonishment etched on his face. “He didn’t get rich selling drugs. He’s a trust fund baby. His grandmother is the owner of Henderson’s –”
“Uh, mate, she doesn’t need to know the details,” Wally interrupted hastily, shooting me another nervous glance.
His reaction piqued my interest. “It must be something pretty bad if you’re that embarrassed by it.” I turned to Hunter and mouthed, tell me later.
He nodded, clearly amused.
“By the way, I saw Roxy sitting in the lobby,” Wally said quickly, trying to change the subject. “Did you two have plans to meet up?”
Hunter didn’t seem thrilled by this piece of information. Even though I hadn’t asked, he turned to me and explained tersely, “Roxy’s my agent. In fact, she’s the one who called me just now.”
An agent! That sounded pretty exciting, and I enthusiastically told him so.
That only elicited a forced smile from him.
During this time, Wally had been watching me closely. “Oi, geek. Why are you wearing Hunter’s shirt? And where the bloody hell are your pants?” His bearded grin was sleazy and all-knowing. “Can’t get enough of my mate, huh? Well, you’re not the only one! Even Roxy –”
“Shut up, Wally,” Hunter said coolly, but his body language was anything but cool. Shut the fuck up, it said, or I will shut it for you.
That little exchange was enough for me to make a quick guess – Hunter’s agent had a thing for him. Which was perfectly understandable. Millions of women and men also had a thing for him. But unfortunately for them, Hunter Cox was mine now; or at least, his earlier confession indicated that he was.
Shit, please don’t tell me I have competition. If she’s his agent, that means she gets to see and talk to him every day.
But I didn’t want to stand here obsessing over what was hopefully a non-issue, so I gave Hunter a bright smile instead.
“Listen, I should head back home. My roommates are probably wondering where I am.”
“Just give them a call. I’ll get rid of Roxy and be right back,” Hunter said, but his tone seemed indifferent. I had to admit, it hurt a little to hear it.
“No, I really should go. I’ll just get my clothes and be out shortly.” And I strode toward the laundry room to get my stuff.
By the time I threw on my T-shirt and jeans and returned to the living room, Hunter and Wally were standing near the door waiting for me. Together, we went down to the lobby, an awkward silence hanging over us like a stormy cloud. It felt weird because Wally was infamous for never shutting up.
What’s going on?
My question was partially answered when a tall, stunning blonde rose up and sashayed our way, her predatory eyes trained on Hunter. Judging by her behavior, it seemed she hadn’t even noticed Wally and me walking beside him. She probably saw us as nothing more than potted plants decorating his presence.
“Darling!” she cried out, kissing Hunter full on the mouth. Now that she was closer, I could see that she was older than I’d previously thought. There were crow’s feet near her eyes and noticeable brackets around her mouth, placing her around the mid to late thirties.
But she was still a stunner, a fact that Wally seemed to agree with – he was already panting with desire, his eyes trained on her.
Hunter grabbed my hand and pulled me close. “Roe, this is my agent, Roxy.” After a brief pause, he added, “Roxy, this is Rosemary Thornton, my girlfriend.”
I stared up at him, absolutely shocked. Was he serious? Or was this a ploy to get Roxy off his back?
Roxy’s pale-blue eyes settled on me, as if noticing my presence for the first time. “Hello, Rosemary.” She purred, revealing her even, pearly whites. Hunter’s admission didn’t seem to bother her one bit. “How wonderful to meet you. But Hunter and I have some business to discuss, and I don’t have a lot of time.”
&nbs
p; Translation: Get the fuck out of my way, little girl.
I wasn’t the same naïve girl I was back in Sydney. I’d had my fair share of fights and altercations in L.A. Not to mention that when you had roommates like Stacy and Lorenzo and a deluded boss like Helen Archer, the only way to survive was when you stopped being a fucking doormat.
So I smiled sweetly at Roxy before turning to Hunter.
“Sounds like you’re busy. Anyway, thanks for this morning. It was unbelievable.” Making sure Roxy could see what I was doing, I slowly squeezed Hunter’s cock through his shorts. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. How about next week?”
He looked both surprised and pleased by my audacity. “Or what about Tuesday evening? I can make time.”
“Even better.” I let him go and curled a finger at Wally. “Walk me out, neighbor. And for Pete’s sake, stop panting. You sound like you have asthma.” Giving Hunter a cheery wave and completely ignoring Roxy, I made my way toward the entrance doors, dragging Wally by the arm.
After forcing him into my car, I plopped into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition on.
“Why are you kidnapping me, geek?” he complained, even as he yanked at his seat belt. “I, too, am a busy man, you know?”
“Yeah, busy getting high.” I snorted, carefully driving down the street. It was still pouring outside. “I want to talk to you, and I think you owe me that much after the shit you pulled on me in Sydney.”
“What, you’re still pissed about that virgin bet from five years ago?” When I shot him a dirty look, he hurriedly glanced down. “All right, all right. What do you want to talk about?”
“What’s the deal with Roxy?” I asked, making a careful U-turn. “I mean, I get that she’s his agent, and that she probably has feelings for him. But just now . . .” I bit down on my lip, unsure. “It felt weird. Like she was a predator of some sort.”
“That breed of cougar always is.” Wally chuckled in appreciation, then quieted down as he shot me a wary glance. “I dunno if I should say this . . .”
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