by Noelle Adams
“I’ve got a free afternoon, and this evidently got you going. Why shouldn’t we try it?”
“Okay.”
When he meets my eyes again, we both smile.
“Let me find the beginning of this thing,” he says, scrolling back in my e-reader. It takes him a couple of minutes to find the beginning of the scene and then a couple of minutes to skim through it.
I just lay there, getting more and more excited.
“Okay,” he says at last. “It starts against the wall. So get your ass up and go stand against the wall.”
I frown. “You don’t have to be bossy about it.”
“Stand up, angel. Against the wall.”
I hate to admit it, but my whole body gives a hard clench. I roll out of bed and go to the wall with the most empty space in the bedroom, pressing my back against the hard surface.
Hunter is reading again, and it’s really quite cute how serious he’s taking it.
After another minute, he puts down the e-reader. “Take off your clothes.”
I freeze.
His eyes are smoldering again and his voice is huskier than normal as he says, “It starts with her already naked. So take off your clothes.”
I’ve been naked around him a lot since we’ve gotten married, but it seems different right now. It’s the middle of the day. It’s bright in the room. He’s fully dressed, and I’m... not going to stay that way.
“Take them off.”
“Bossy,” I mutter, but I’m already pulling off my T-shirt. Then I slide down my yoga pants and kick them off over my feet. I take my socks off too since it’s not going to look very sexy if I’m wearing socks with no clothes.
Now I just have my bra and panties on, and Hunter is watching me from a few feet away.
“All of them. Take them off.”
My body is already pulsing with excitement as I unhook my bra and let it drop to the floor. My breasts bounce a little as I move, and the air is cool against my flushed skin. I peel off my panties, and then I’m standing against the wall naked.
And Hunter doesn’t move. He doesn’t do anything but stare.
I take it, since it seems like I’ll lose the challenge if I tell him to hurry up.
Then he finally takes three steps forward and sinks down onto his knees in front of me.
Then he parts my legs even farther and reaches to hold me open with his fingers.
His head tilts forward until he’s breathing on my hot intimate flesh.
I was aroused from reading and then more aroused from stripping for him, so I’m wet and hot and swollen already when he gives my clit a flick with his tongue.
I cry out and grab for his head, pressing my back against the wall.
His tongue is doing amazing things down there, and my body is responding quickly. My thighs and stomach tense up, and I dig my fingers into his scalp as he works me up to orgasm.
Then he sucks hard on my clit, and I fly apart, making an embarrassing sobbing sound as I shake and gasp.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles as he rises to his feet. “Now turn around,” he says.
I do what he says. This is what happens in the book, after all.
“Bend at the waist and brace your hands against the wall. Then wait for me.”
I move into position, feeling shaky from the aftermath of my climax and completely exposed, completely helpless.
This is what I wanted, but it’s not exactly what I thought.
It feels rawer.
Harder.
More precarious.
I’m so turned on I feel moisture leaking down one of my inner thighs, and I have no idea what Hunter is doing behind me.
When I turn my head to look, he says, “I told you to wait for me.”
I turn my head back to the wall and close my eyes.
“Your ass is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he rasps, closer than he was before.
I suddenly feel his hands there, running over the curves, squeezing the flesh, cupping and holding me there.
This isn’t in the book. He’s doing this on his own.
My butt has never been my best feature, but it sounds like he really likes the look of it.
Shivers of pleasure run through me.
“Are you ready for me?” he asks, running his fingers down the crack until he’s found where I’m hot and wet.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
“You’re so turned on.”
“Yes. Please.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this turned on before. Look how wet you are.”
I whimper. I know I just had an orgasm a few minutes earlier, but I need more. I need it so much.
“You like being on display this way. You like waiting for me to do things to do you. You think you’re vanilla, but you’re really not.”
There’s nothing in the world I can say. I just whimper again.
“Listen to you. You’re dying for me to touch you again.”
“Please.”
“Please what?”
I don’t actually know what he’s looking for me to say. I search my mind for scenes from books that might clue me in. “Please... sir?”
I hear a choking sound and realize he’s laughing. “Did you just call me sir?”
Despite my arousal, I’m having trouble not giggling myself. “I didn’t know what you wanted me to say.”
“Would you really have called me sir if I asked you?” It sounds like he’s even closer, and I realize he’s leaned over me when he presses a kiss against the side of my neck.
“I might have tried it out,” I admit. “But I don’t think I’d have done it more than a couple of times.”
“That’s what I thought.” He straightens up and caresses my bottom again. “I meant please, what do you want me to do?”
“Oh. I get it.” I close my eyes and let out a breath, quickly falling back into my previous mood. “Please, I want you to fuck me.”
“Then I will.”
I’m holding my breath as he pulls my ass cheeks apart and nudges me with the head of his erection until he’s found my entrance. He pushes into me, and he feels bigger and fuller in this position.
My back is stretched uncomfortably, and I don’t feel entirely stable. But I push against the wall as he pushes into me.
He fucks me hard and fast, shaking my body with his motion. The slapping sound of our bodies connecting is almost as arousing as the friction.
Hunter huffs as he thrusts, holding on to fistfuls of my ass. He fucks me until I come, and then he keeps going until I’m losing it again, grunting like an animal, unable to recognize the sound of my voice.
When I come the second time, my hands are slipping on the wall. Hunter pulls out—still hard—and wraps an arm around me to help me stand up.
My knees are weak, and my back is sore, and my body is feeling no pain.
I slump against him, and he hugs me for a minute, even though I can feel the tension of arousal all through his body.
“He ties her up next in the book,” Hunter murmurs against my hair.
“I know.” I hesitate, taking a ragged breath. “I don’t know if I want to do that.”
“You can trust me.”
“I... I know.” I try to imagine myself tied up in bed for Hunter to do what he wants to. Part of me likes the idea—the way I liked being exposed to him against the wall—but another part of me finds it terrifying. “Let’s skip that part.”
“Okay. Then go get on the bed. You know what position.”
I gulp. This is better than being tied up, but it still feels helpless and undignified. I chickened out on one thing already, however, and I’m not going to chicken out on this. I get on the bed, rolling over onto my stomach. Then I raise my butt into the air.
He stands and looks at me for a while. A long while.
I’m hot and urgent again from waiting for him, and I’m still so wet it’s almost uncomfortable.
“Look
at you,” he murmurs. “You’re the hottest thing ever.”
I feel hot. Sexy. Someone entirely different than I thought I was.
He’s finally getting on the bed and moving into position behind me.
Then he takes me from behind, bracing himself on the headboard. He fucks me hard, shaking the bed, shaking my body, shaking my entire world—until I’m coming so hard I’m almost screaming with it.
I never scream in bed, so this is definitely a noteworthy occurrence.
I think it’s over, but it’s not. He reaches behind him and grabs the vibrator I dropped on the bed earlier.
I hear the hum as he turns it on, and then he reaches around to hold it against my clit as he thrusts.
I come and come again and somehow keep coming. I lose track of everything except the sensations. I’m sobbing into the pillow, my body drenched with sweat and wracked with pleasure when Hunter drops the vibrator, grabs me by my bottom, and pushes into me hard.
He’s coming at last. He lets out a loud bellow as he falls over the edge, and he keeps pushing hard inside me as he rides out the release.
Then he collapses on top of me, which isn’t exactly comfortable because my butt is still in the air.
We manage to untangle ourselves a little. I’m stretched out, still on my stomach, and he’s halfway on top of me. I’m hot and panting, and I hear his gasps at my ear, feel his breath on my skin, my hair.
When I’m able to turn my head back to look at him, he raises his so he can kiss me.
“I think we did pretty good over all.”
“Yeah,” I gasp. “Oh yeah.”
“As good as reading the book.”
“Better.” I mean it, knowing he’ll understand as I add, “Realer.”
“Yeah.” He kisses me again. “That’s as real as it gets.”
I have to remember my emotional balancing act because my heart is breaking out in crazy flutters at his words, at the look in his eyes.
This is one of the good things I get from being married to him.
But it doesn’t mean he loves me.
I have to keep remembering that.
Seven
YOU KNOW HOW IN Emma an otherwise clever young woman goes blundering around completely blind to the man who is quietly in love with her the whole time?
Yeah, I love that story. For obvious reasons. Who doesn’t want to think a man is secretly swooning over her, only to have it revealed in a glorious, romantic revelation. It’s an ever-present fantasy. A private indulgence. This dream that someone might be in love with you and never let you know.
It makes those of us who go through life without having men fall for us hold on to hope.
I try not to hold on to the dream too tightly with Hunter however. Because, no matter how many romantic stories I read, I also know human nature. And one thing I’ve learned very clearly. If a man is really in love with you, he’s not going to keep secretly pining forever. He’s going to eventually let you know.
And Hunter has never done that with me.
So I’m not going to deceive myself with a daydream, which means I’m back to the emotional balancing act.
A few days later, I’m having a very good Saturday with Hunter.
I’ve worked hard for the past couple of days to get caught up on my schoolwork before the weekend, so I don’t have much to do on Saturday. We sleep in and then go out for a late breakfast and do some grocery shopping. Then we come back to the apartment and watch several episodes of a television show on Netflix that neither of us has seen.
I’m very relaxed and having a good time, and I think Hunter is too, when he gets a text on his phone and suddenly sits up.
“I’ve got to go out for a while,” he says.
I’ve been stretched out on the couch, my feet on Hunter’s lap, but at this I sit up straight. “Where are you going?”
“Just out. I’ll be back.”
He’s done this before. Several times. And it’s really starting to upset me.
I have no idea where he goes, and he doesn’t tell me when I ask.
I must be more upset about it than I thought—or I’m too relaxed and my normal internal defenses aren’t up enough—because I blurt out, “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Hunter is bending over to put on his shoes, but at this he snaps up straight. “What?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“A girlfriend?” His face is as shocked as I’ve ever seen it. “You’re seriously asking me if I have a girlfriend?”
“Yes, I’m asking you. You keep leaving after you get texts, and you don’t ever tell me where you go. What am I supposed to think?”
“You’re not supposed to think I have a girlfriend. Jesus, Sam. I’m your husband. You think that means so little to me? You really think I’d want a girlfriend?”
His face is so outraged it makes me feel a little guilty. “No. I never would have thought so. But you won’t tell me where you go. I don’t understand why you won’t tell me unless you have something to hide.”
Hunter groans softly and sits down on the ottoman near the couch. He’s about a foot away from me as he leans forward. “Damn it, Sam. You’ve been upset about this.”
“Yes, I’ve been upset.”
He meets my eyes. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t want a girlfriend. I don’t want anyone but you.”
The tension in my chest eases. I fold my legs up under me. “Okay.”
I wait. I still want to know where he goes.
He sighs again, that textured sigh that’s almost a groan. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I’m just...”
“You’re just...”
“I go to watch my brother’s soccer games.”
I blink, since this is the last thing I expect. “You do?”
“Yeah. I do.” He rubs his beard and glances away.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to see your family.”
“I’m not. I have to sneak out to watch him, so my parents don’t find out. He still texts me even though he’s not supposed to, and it means something to him that I go and watch him play. He’s fifteen years old. I don’t want to miss out on his life just because I made a complete mess out of mine.”
“You didn’t make a mess of your whole life,” I say, immediately jumping to his defense.
“Yes, I did. You know I did. And it’s not always easy to fix it. But he’s my brother, and I...”
He trails off, and I’m hit with the deepest wave of understanding, of affection, I’ve ever experienced.
I can’t even imagine having to sneak around to see my sisters. It’s a horrible idea, and poor Hunter has been having to do it all alone.
“Why couldn’t you tell me?” I ask when I finally get control of my emotions.
He ducks his head. “I don’t know. I guess I was just... embarrassed. Having to sneak around to see my own brother.” He clears his throat. “I don’t like to remind you that my life is such a disaster.”
I can’t hold back anymore. I reach out to pull him into a hug.
It’s a little awkward since I’m on the couch and he’s on the ottoman, but he hugs me back. His arms are strong, and his body strangely urgent.
Not sexy urgent.
Urgent in a different way.
I love the feel of it.
When we pull apart, Hunter asks, “Do you want to go with me?”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I would like to go. Thanks.”
So I put my shoes on too, and we drive out to a soccer field at the exclusive high school Hunter’s brother attends. We can’t actually go and sit on the bleachers or grass with everyone else because someone would see and recognize him. Even if his parents aren’t in attendance—which is likely based on my knowledge of them—someone would tell them that Hunter was there, and there would be a big blowup.
Instead, Hunter parks across the street and leads me up a hill where there’s a view of the field. He has to stand up to s
ee anything, but this is evidently what he always does.
Stand here all alone and watch his little brother play.
I’m almost in tears as the game starts, and I don’t even know why. I can’t say anything, or Hunter will see how I’m feeling.
He texts his brother when we arrive and again when the game starts. Obviously, his brother doesn’t have his phone with him on the field, but he gets the texts afterward.
It’s really very sweet.
We’re about ten minutes into the game when Hunter says, “Do you see him?”
“I did at first, but I’ve lost him now.”
“He just scored the goal.” He’s sending another text.
“Oh good! Good for him. Is he really good then?”
“I think so.”
“He knows you’re here?”
“Yeah. He knows I’m here.”
I don’t mind watching soccer games, but it goes on for a long time, and I eventually have to sit down on the grass for a little while to give my legs and back a break. Hunter only sits down during breaks in the game. The rest of the time, he watches his brother, sending him texts whenever something noteworthy happens.
I’m standing up for the very end of the game, since the teams are fairly close and either one can win.
I’ve got my arm wrapped around Hunter’s waist, and I’m leaning against his side. He’s obviously gotten hot since we’ve been here. He’s sweating, and he smells like it.
But I don’t really mind. I like holding on to him like this, and he seems to like it too.
At one point, I ask, “Have you tried to talk to your parents at all?”
He hesitates before he replies, “Yeah.”
“No luck?”
“No.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
He adds, “I think my mom might be willing to see me, but she’s not going to go against my dad. No one ever does.”
“Does he know you have a job and everything?”
“He’s not gonna care. I had one chance with him, and I blew it.” He’s shaking his head, his eyes still focused on the field. “I’m okay with him never forgiving me. But my mom... and my brother...”
“When your brother is an adult, you’ll be able to see him as much as you want. He’ll know you were always there for him, as much as you possibly could be. It will mean something to him. You’ll be able to have him in your life then.”
