by Tina Donahue
Tim arched one eyebrow, his imperious expression matching his father’s in too many corporate photos. “None of your fucking business.”
“Screw that,” Hunt shot back with a grin. “You’ve been like a zombie even before we got here. I know it’s Monday, but this is extreme even for you.”
“Like you should talk,” Tim said.
“Here you go, sir.” The server delivered Hunt’s drink.
“Thanks.” He spoke to David. “When I first met Alexa, I never acted quite as goofy as Tim’s doing right now, did I?”
David squirmed in his chair as though he was still embarrassed that he’d once slept with her. A matter Hunt never thought about or allowed to get to him. He had no reason to be jealous. Before they’d met, Alexa had believed she couldn’t trust any man to give her the devotion she’d needed, but had never known, so she’d settled on nothing more than seeking pleasure. Hunt had changed all that, deepening her desire, reaching her soul, touching her heart.
“You were in love—are in love,” David answered at last. “I understand. Guys like that act weird.”
“That they do.” Hunt turned to Tim. “So that’s it—you’re in love? Who’s the unlucky lady?”
Tim sipped his drink and frowned. With a lot of the ice melted, it was probably too watery for his taste. He lifted his hand, trying to get their server’s attention and dodge the question.
At any other time, Hunt might have continued ribbing his friend. Not today. This seemed serious, which wasn’t at all like Tim. The man enjoyed the ladies for a quick fuck or a brief affair, nothing more lasting. From the few drunken confessions Tim had made, Hunt knew the man had practically worshipped Fantine, a woman he’d met in Paris. She’d reciprocated by betraying him. Tim had never revealed the particulars of what she’d done. However, his lingering anger and hurt was epic. Damn. Was it possible she’d come to the States? Had they actually stumbled into each other in the District?
“Is she here?” Hunt asked.
“In the restaurant?” David said, resuming his search of the dining area.
Tim joined him, craning his neck.
Hunt regarded the women at the surrounding tables. Many appeared to be in their early thirties, the same as him, most dressed in business attire. None of them was remarkably good-looking or even noticing Tim.
The man slumped in his chair as though that bummed him badly.
Intrigued, Hunt leaned over and spoke as quietly as he could given the din. “She actually followed you from Paris?” After all this time? After what she’d done, whatever in the hell it was?
Tim curled his upper lip. “What in the fuck are you talking about?”
“Fantine.” Who else?
David sucked in a breath. “Jesus.” He continued to search the room, his eyes just about popping out of their sockets. “You’re back with her? Is that wise? How could you trust her after you said she—”
“Get a grip,” Tim muttered, then sighed, “Her name’s Catherine, all right? Catherine Oliver.”
Hunt fought his surprise. The reverence with which Tim had said that name spoke volumes. This was serious. “How long have you been dating Catherine?”
Tim took another sip of his drink and made a face. “Hey,” he called out, gesturing for the server. “Bring me another.” He lifted his glass.
The boy’s pen stalled on his ticket. The middle-aged men he was taking orders from frowned.
“When you have time,” Tim added with studied courtesy, then returned his attention to the window.
“That long, huh?” Hunt prodded.
Tim rolled his eyes. “I met her Saturday at the holiday party, okay? The one neither of you jackasses agreed to attend.”
Hunt wasn’t about to apologize for that. Before Alexa had come into his life, he would have been there, scoping out the available women. Since falling in love with her, he’d wanted to spend the evening in their apartment, watching a flick, sharing a pizza, sharing each other, his cock buried deep within her sweet cunt and mouth. Nothing short of a gun to his head or hers would have made Hunt leave that.
As far as David was concerned, he’d begged off on the party because his parents were in town. At least, that’s what he’d claimed.
“Catherine’s a lobbyist?” Hunt asked.
David blurted, “She works for a competing firm?” Worry pinched his features.
“No. Relax.” Tim buttered a slice of beer bread. “She’s a student at George Washington.”
“Whoa.” Hunt pressed back in his chair, its leather squeaking faintly from the pressure. “Young.”
“Mid-twenties,” Tim retorted, “the same as Alexa. Catherine’s in the master’s program. Went to Georgetown for her bachelor’s.”
“Poli sci?” David asked.
“Sociology. She’s focusing on social inequality.”
“A feminist.” Hunt grinned. “Think you can handle that?”
Tim dropped his butter knife on its dish. The clattering utensil competed briefly with the other sounds. “She’s not fighting for women’s rights—at least I don’t think she is. She looks biracial, so it’s probably about that.” He sagged back in his seat and pulled in a lungful of air.
“What?” David asked.
Hunt answered for Tim, “She’s really something, huh?”
A smile spread across the man’s face that was pure joy. “Amazing.”
David leaned forward, clearly ready to ask for more information. Hunt kicked the man’s shoe and shook his head. Nothing would make Tim clam up faster than someone grilling him. They needed to wait.
A second ticked by, then another and—
“She’s so damned smart,” Tim gushed. “Funny too. And gorgeous? Holy shit, you’ve never seen anyone like her. She has the most incredible green eyes. Her hair’s brown, but it has these reddish highlights in it. The gown she had on was un-fucking-believable. A coppery shade with these tiny beads that sparkled in the light. The color complemented her complexion perfectly. It’s…” He waved his hand as though struggling to find the right word. “A kind of light honey color, you know? And she has this adorable rose tattoo just above her—” He stopped, a deep red flush creeping up his throat to his cheeks.
Hunt exchanged another glance with David who also seemed eager to know the location of that tattoo.
“You’ve slept with her already?” Hunt blurted, unable to help himself. “When? Sunday?”
“No,” David said. “Not possible. Sunday was Tim’s time to spend with Grogan. You did, didn’t you?” he asked the man.
“Of course I did, from dawn right up until 1 a.m. the following morning when he finally ran out of war stories. I don’t ditch clients no matter how boring they are, all right?”
Hunt prodded, “You slept with Catherine after the party and before Grogan?”
Tim finally took a bite of his buttered bread, huge enough that he’d be chewing for several minutes.
Whoa. This was getting interesting. “At the party?” Hunt asked.
“No shit?” David smiled. “Tell us about it.”
“Fuck no.” Tim spoke with a full mouth and struggled not to smile. “None of your goddamned business.”
True. Though that hadn’t stopped Tim from offering his unwanted advice to Hunt when he’d fallen for Alexa. “Didn’t go well, huh? That’s okay. We understand. Right, David?”
His confused look said he was clueless.
Suppressing a grin, Hunt continued to tease. “Tim wasn’t able to satisfy Catherine. That’s why he’s not talking. It’s okay, man,” he said to Tim, all conciliatory. “That’s happened to guys since the beginning of time. Not to me, of course, especially with Alexa. However with you—”
Tim cut in, “If you hadn’t ditched the party, you would have heard what real lovemaking sounds like.”
Lovemaking, not fucking? Oh he definitely had it bad. “And how’s that? You were like two pussycats going at each other?”
David snickered, then pressed his fist ag
ainst his mouth to stop.
Tim’s gaze turned inward. More color rose to his face, euphoria flooding his features.
Clearly better than pussycats or even wildcats. Catherine must be some woman. The last time Hunt recalled Tim being this unglued was when he’d been wasted and reminiscing about how bad everything had turned out with Fantine. “You’re seeing Catherine again?”
Tim’s grin said he was.
For his friend’s sake, Hunt hoped this new love turned out far better than his last.
Alexa turned a slow circle beneath the shower’s pelting spray, the steamy water barely loosening the tension in her shoulders. Although the day had begun well with Ronnie’s happy call, it had gone downhill from there with Catherine’s visit.
No matter how Alexa had tried to reason with the young woman, Catherine wasn’t having it.
“I have to cancel my appointments for this week,” she’d said, rocking in her chair, arms still wrapped around her torso. “I’ll go to parties, as long as Tim’s not there. Hunt can get you his schedule. I’ll pretend to be a client’s date at those functions, no different than I’ve done in the past, but I’m not going to sleep with them. Not until this thing with Tim is over.”
Alexa adjusted the shower’s spray to a less punishing setting. Damp hair clung to her cheeks and throat. She clawed it away and sighed loudly. Rebooking Catherine’s clients had been no easy matter. The young woman had regulars, just as all the escorts did, and those clients wanted her, not someone else, no matter how educated, great-looking or articulate.
After too much hand holding to make those patrons happy, Guy had called. He and Joel worked as a team, setting up ménage fantasies for lonely ladies. Bedridden with a bad bout of flu, Guy had begged off on two of his gigs. With those appointments rescheduled, Alexa had far too much time to worry about Catherine.
Not until this thing with Tim is over, she’d said.
When would that be? In a few days? Weeks? How badly would that screw up Catherine’s head and heart? And what about Tim?
Alexa knew she’d never be really close to the guy, certainly not to the same degree as Hunt. However, she didn’t want to see Tim lied to and possibly hurt.
Catherine must have seen that worry on Alexa’s face, because she’d finally stopped rocking and blurted, “You’re not going to tell Hunt or Tim about me, are you? Please, you have to let me handle this. Give me a chance.”
Right. Suddenly, Alexa’s best choice was to betray either Catherine or Tim, with Hunt caught in the fallout. If that happened, no matter what Hunt claimed, Tim would never believe he hadn’t known the truth of Catherine’s past and her working for the agency. They’d fight, possibly coming to blows. A chance for her and Catherine to see which one of their guys would win.
Whimpering, Alexa sagged against the shower’s slick granite wall. As masculine as the rest of this place, the stone was the color of sand on a Los Angeles beach. If only she and Hunt could be in that part of the world right now, enjoying the mild temps and caressing breeze, away from all this drama. Maybe when he came home, she’d suggest it and he’d agree. Now wouldn’t that be nice? Lifting her chin, Alexa closed her eyes at the thought and blew out a sigh.
The glass door rattled. She flinched.
Hunt’s grin froze. “Whoa, it’s only me—I was able to leave the office early. I thought you’d like that.” He regarded himself and joked, “I thought you liked me nude.”
Yearning flooded her so quickly, Alexa could barely breathe, much less speak. Without the comfort of his body, his loyalty and approval, she’d die. Before meeting Hunt, Alexa had been with scores of men from the agency, all of them rich, accomplished, many of them handsome, all eager to continue seeing her. Giving Alexa what she’d thought she wanted…their undivided attention for a few hours.
How wrong she’d been to settle for so little.
None of them came close to Hunt, a good man who needed her as much as she required him, a simply exquisite man, the poster boy for a powerful male in his prime.
His handsome face was shadowed with beard, his dark hair tousled from the icy wind, his eyes such an amazing blue the color didn’t seem real. His pecs were smooth and firm, hard slabs of bronze muscle complemented by his well-defined abs. Beneath the perfect circle of his navel, dark hairs arrowed to his groin. The thought of pressing her face into that thick thatch of hair made Alexa’s mouth water. His cock was erect, the skin ruddy, his balls dusted with more dark hairs and oh-so plump, hugging his body, ready to release their load. His meaty crown called to everything female within her. A pearl of pre-cum glistened on the tiny slit. She could almost taste its saltiness on her tongue.
Fighting a moan of delight, she breathed, “I adore you.”
His playful expression evolved into tenderness. He came inside and closed the door, causing the glass to vibrate. Water sluiced down his hairy thighs and calves. “Come here.”
Both rough and gentle, his command drew Alexa closer with the promise that he’d take away all of the bad and deliver nothing except safety and pleasure. She twined her arms around Hunt’s torso, inhaling deeply of his familiar and beloved scent. It was so masculine, smelling of cherry tobacco and leather.
Gently, he caressed her, his carnal need on hold for the moment.
She swallowed hard, pressing her fingers into his back. Never had another man been willing to comfort her as he did now…as he’d done since they’d confessed their love. His willingness to soothe was more precious to Alexa than any declaration he might have given.
It also tore at her. She wanted to tell him about Catherine and Tim, at least give him fair warning that trouble was coming so he’d be prepared for the crap that followed. All she had to do was find the right words that wouldn’t cause Hunt to tip off Tim, which would then betray Catherine, taking away a sliver of happiness she so desperately wanted.
Yeah, sure. What words were those?
“Bad day?” he asked, running his hand down her back.
Alexa trembled at the pleasant sensations slithering through her and hedged, “A lot of schedule juggling. Ronnie called—nothing bad with her health, she’s doing great. Giving hell to Wallace and the ship’s captain and crew.”
“Glad to hear it.” Hunt kissed her throat and ran his fingers over her ass.
Oh god, that felt so good.
“Nice?” he asked.
Alexa sagged against him in answer, pressing her mouth to his damp shoulder.
After a moment, he groaned. “You’re not giving me another hickey, are you?”
Damn right she was. For the rest of his days, Alexa intended to mark him, making her claim, keeping all other women away. She sucked even harder.
He whined, “The guys at the club are starting to make fun of me.”
Sure. If he was like most men, he was probably strutting naked in the locker room, hoping his buddies would notice his “war wounds”.
Alexa kept her mouth on him as she spoke. “Tu baa.”
“Huh?”
“Too bad,” she repeated, her lips brushing his skin with the words.
“Gonna be bitchy tonight, huh?”
“Hell on fucking wheels.” Giving him no chance to counter, Alexa sank to her knees and took his rigid cock in her palm.
Hunt made a strangled sound that said he approved.
By the time she was done with him, he’d be too weary to breathe, defenseless in her arms, wanting nothing except the comfort of her embrace.
With an equal measure of passion and tenderness, Alexa worshipped this part of him, brushing his crown over her lips, savoring its satiny feel and musky scent. In her other hand, his balls were heavy and hot. She worked them gently.
Hunt shot to his toes and came down fast, his heels smacking the wet stone.
“Don’t like that?” she teased.
“Are you kid—”
His words halted at Alexa taking him fully into her mouth. He let out a prolonged moan as she reached the root of his shaft, her no
se touching his dark nest of curls.
Hunt shuddered. He sputtered unintelligible words. Possibly the Pig Latin he’d talked about the first night they met.
Alexa’s heart turned over at the wonderful memory. Love fueled her desire. She worked his cock in her mouth with far more control than she could with her pussy. Each time she reached the plump head, she added a bit of a twist, all while tonguing the bumpy skin at the back. The part of every man that gave him the most satisfaction.
“Aw fuck,” Hunt growled, hands on her head, his fingers digging into her scalp. “You have to stop. I want to come inside you.”
He would. She trailed her fingers over his ass, down his furrow, reaching his anus. There she lingered and explored, while continuing to fondle his balls.
“Oh crap,” he groaned, “I’m going to—shit.”
His cum squirted into her mouth. Thick. Creamy. Rich. She drank it down willingly. There wasn’t one part of Hunt that Alexa didn’t treasure. How had she ever survived without him or this? Sex so rich it wasn’t only satisfying, it was downright sacred.
She took her time licking him clean, tonguing the thick veins on his column of flesh, the small opening in the crown. He continued to pant. Finished at last, she lifted his now-flaccid cock and suckled his right ball.
Hunt let out a groan that was louder, deeper than the other sounds he’d made.
Poor baby. Alexa knew the sensations she’d created were more than he could endure. He needed to rest and compose himself.
Maybe later.
She tended to his left testicle, liking the feel of its short, wiry hairs, giving it as much loving as she had the other.
When she was finally through, Hunt stopped groaning. He struggled to breathe, barely pulling in enough air before wheezing it out. His toes were curled, knees bent, his head hanging between his bunched shoulders.
She murmured, “You gonna live?”
After a brief struggle, he managed to lift one lid and glare at her.
Alexa grinned. Water dripped from the tip of his nose, chin and lashes. He looked beat and well loved, just as he should. She patted the damp stone. “Want to lie down? I’ll wake you in an hour or so when you’re ready to go again.”
