by L. M. Reid
I watch as he stands discarding his clothes before moving in my direction. My eyes study his body, every square inch of muscled perfect, every hardened ounce. My tongue darts out to wet my lips in appreciation of the handsome man headed toward me.
His bright blue eyes darken with desire more and more with every step that he takes.
When he reaches me, the look of desire is still in his eyes, but there’s a playful smile on his lips. His strong arms snake around me and I feel at ease – safe. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up, his eyes flicker, and his strong arms hoist me up and set me on his shoulder.
“Hunter,” I squeal.
No sooner does the sound escape me, we hit the chilled water. Goosebumps cover every inch of my body and I can’t tell if it’s from the water, or him.
“Cooled off enough?” he says with a laugh.
The guy I am used to seeing so serious and so in control looks relaxed and happy and dare I say – fun? I splash him, he splashes back. He reaches for me and I shove him away. We play like little kids in the gorgeous ocean water, laughing and carefree.
Then his hand captures my wrist, tugging me to him. He doesn’t speak, only smiles before his lips capture mine again. I swear the world stops spinning. Everything around us is silent and serene and we are the only two people that exist in the world.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asks.
Our bodies are pressed together, his excitement more than evident. “I know what you want to do.”
His laughter floats through the air. It’s a sound like I’ve never heard from him before, he is like I’ve never seen him before.
“Where has this Hunter been all my life?” I ask.
His eyes drop down to where my chest is against his. “Waiting for you, I guess.” He clears his throat almost as if he’s uncertain of the words that he is going to say. “I meant what I said earlier.”
“Which part?” I know what he’s referring too but I need to hear him say it again. I need the confirmation because the pieces of me that are broken refuse to believe it’s possible. It may have taken that kiss to make me realize it, but I think I might just like him too.
He knows I need to hear it. That I need to feel it. Our bodies are entwined, his lips next to my ear. “I like you, Quinn. I really, really like you.”
The words send a shiver down my spine. I want to ask him to say it again. I want to hear it over and over until I believe that someone like him could actually want someone like me. More than anything I want to believe it. I want to be his.
Although the admission is internal, it still startles me.
I want Hunter Adams.
Maybe I always have.
Maybe it’s not him that didn’t think I was good enough. Maybe, it was me. Those thoughts, deflecting my own insecurities onto believing it’s how he thought of me have kept me from finding this. Not anymore.
Claire told me to be honest with him.
“I like you, too,” I whisper. It’s the truth. A start. All the bad things, the pieces of me I don’t want anyone to see, those can come later. Not now. Not when we’re in the middle of something so perfect.
“What do you think we should do about this mutual like we have of each other?”
His fingers slide down my body, between my thighs, and straight to…
“Jesus, Quinn, can’t you ever keep your clothes on?” a female voice calls out.
Hunter’s head whips in the direction of the beach where Layla stands with all of our clothes and the blanket in her hands.
“Put it down,” Hunter orders her.
“Not a chance in hell,” she laughs as she begins to walk away.
“Damnit, Layla.” He says the words like a scolding. One she doesn’t seem to give a damn about. If my instincts were right and she really is still in love with him, this isn’t something she would want to do. Unless, of course, she hates me more. Since she doesn’t seem to be backing down, I’m guessing the latter is correct.
Hunter wades through the water, stepping out to go after her, but she’s gotten too far. Or at least too far for him to go in his current state – naked, dripping wet, and sexy as sin.
I sit in the water not really sure what to do, or how to get us out of this mess that I got us into.
“I am so sorry,” I tell him.
“For what?”
“This,” I say, as I make my way out of the water and wrap my arms around myself. “It was a terrible idea. Typical Quinn doing stupid shit.”
“Woah…no. This was a great idea. I have had more fun tonight than I have had in a long time.”
“Really? Even though we’re naked and stranded now?”
“Maybe even more because of it.” When he smiles at me, I swear my heart skips a beat.
I glance around the empty beach trying to develop some sort of escape strategy. My eyes fall on one lone piece of clothing that was left behind and my laugh is instantaneous.
“What’s so funny?”
I squat down and pick up the item and dangle it in front of him. “A sock. Looks like you can cover up after all.”
I don’t know what it is or why I find it so funny, but I am laughing so hard that my stomach begins to hurt. And when he joins in, it’s solidified that this right here is my all-time favorite moment of my life.
“So, now what?” I ask.
Our laughter dies down and the look on his face grows serious. “We need to get you covered and find a way to get back in our room.”
I sashay past him. “I don’t need to be covered; I have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“No, you definitely do not,” he agrees. “But…”
“But what?”
His jaw ticks as he takes me in. I swear my body sizzles just from the way he looks at me. “I… uh…”
“We’re standing here staring at each other naked. Pretty sure there’s nothing we can’t share at this point.”
He rubs his hand along his jaw. “I don’t want people looking at you.”
It’s possessive and sweet and screams at what a gentleman he really is. He would rather be out there for everyone to look at that let anyone catch a glimpse of me.
“I will head back to the hotel, get you some clothes, and then…” he begins.
“That’s sweet, but you’re the high-profile football player with a reputation to protect. I’ll do it.”
“No way.”
“Either I go, or we’re in this together. Your choice, tough guy?”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, you need to follow my lead.”
“Yes, sir,” I say as I salute him.
He stands us so his back is facing my front. My arms are around his waist and I’m in just the right position to grab what I desperately want to take. Layla could have at least left the blanket. Had she, there’s no doubt I would be on my back, Hunter’s body over me, screaming out his name in pleasure even more profusely than I did in the hotel that night.
That night was a fluke. This. This is real.
My hand reaches, taking him in my hand.
“Oh fuck, Quinn.” He allows my hand to stroke him a few times before tearing it away. He turns to me, his fingers under my chin. “You’re going to make me cum in your hand.”
“Got somewhere else you would prefer?” I taunt him.
He emits a low growl. “I can think of a few.”
“A few?” I ask my eyes wide.
All Hunter does is wink before turning me around. This time it’s his front to my back and his big bulky arm covering my breasts. Something hard presses against my back and makes me giggle.
“Sorry.”
“I’m not.” If anything, I’m more turned on than before. Anticipating what is undoubtedly going to happen when we get back to our room.
His strong muscular arm wraps around the front of me covering my breasts.
“This okay?” he asks.
“Sure. But you know…you can just touch them if you wa
nt. You don’t have to pretend to cover them.”
“You can cover your uh…”
“Really?” I laugh. “You can’t say it?”
“Just do it.”
“Say it,” I taunt him. He lets out a breath. “Say… pussy.”
“There are way better things for me to do with my mouth than say the word.”
“Say it.”
His voice gets low and deep. “Cover your pussy, Quinn. Because if anyone else looks at it, I won’t be tasting it tonight. And you do want me to taste you, don’t you?”
His words are so unexpected that I’m not sure what to do except allow the moan it instills to fall from my lips. Who knew that mister nice guy over here had such a dirty, sexy mouth? Every ounce of restraint is used to not touch myself or beg him to touch me.
“Yes or no, Quinn?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, move.”
We slowly shimmy back toward the resort, trying to keep our laughter to a minimum so as not to attract attention. As if there is a chance in hell that a six-foot four, naked football player isn’t going to attract any attention. Especially when he has his arms around a very naked girl with blue streaks in her hair.
“It keeps poking me,” I giggle.
“It’s in that condition because of you, so you’re going to have to deal with it.”
“I thought you were going to say take care of it,” I say.
“We’ll get to that… later.” He moves us behind a tall bush near the pool. “You stay here. I’m going to grab that towel.”
“We need more than one,” I remind him.
“Yeah, well, let’s take what we can get.”
With stealth vibes the hulking football player steals a towel and dashes behind the bush.
“Woo-hoo,” I call out throwing my hands in the air. My entire body on display for him.
He takes me in for a moment, his eyes scraping over my body, his hands clenching the towel, itching to touch me. A nearby sound interrupts him and within a second the towel is wrapped around me covering me up.
“What are you doing?” I giggle.
“Covering you up.”
“What about you?” I glance down at his still visible and uncomfortable looking erection then back up to his smiling face.
“I’m good. Let’s go.”
I snuggle back up against him to cover him up. “That’s not helping.”
“I wasn’t trying to help.”
Somehow, we skate through the hotel without being noticed, or at least no one acts like they notice. Again, how can they not? We look crazy, ridiculous, and stealthy mission impossible movements have both of us laughing despite the desire coursing through our veins.
We’re almost there. Almost to the front desk where we need to go to get a new room key.
“I’ll go,” I tell him as we stand there looking at the concierge.
“No.” His voice is deep, solid, and completely unwavering in his decision.
“At least take the towel,” I say as I begin to undo it.
His hand comes up and covers mine. “Don’t.”
Sweet as it is, it’s also insane. There is no reason that my covered body shouldn’t be the one to go to the front desk. Or that he couldn’t use the towel while I hide here in the hall. Either option is viable, but he doesn’t seem to be willing to give into any of them.
“Hunter, you’re being…”
“Hunter? Quinn?” a voice says.
I freeze when I see Mrs. Adams standing in front of us. I can feel the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks and the desire to run in my feet.
Great. Sure. Of course.
This morning the woman loved me. Now she’s going to think I’m nothing but some slut trying to bed her baby boy. Not that she would be completely wrong.
My gaze drops to the floor. I refuse to look at her, to meet her eyes to see the disapproval that I am certain is in them.
“What are you two… up to?” she asks.
Dread sinks further into the pit of my stomach. But I hear her stifle a laugh and can’t help but look up. Where I expect to find anger or disappointment in her eyes, there is amusement. Is she really not angry? Does she not hate me for something I am sure she knows is my fault since there is no way in hell Hunter, the good version of him, the one I seem to be infiltrating at least slightly, would do this.
“Very funny, mom,” Hunter says. “We went for a swim and Layla stole our clothes. Think you could, uh… help us out maybe?”
“I don’t know. Looks like you’re handling things,” she laughs.
“Mom.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll be right back.”
With the towel tucked under my arms, I turn toward the wall and rest my head against it. “Oh my God. Of all the people we could have run into, it had to be your mother?” I hear him laugh. “It’s not funny.”
“I thought I was the one that wasn’t any fun.”
“Hunter,” I scold him.
“Relax, okay. It’s not exactly the first time that my mom has caught me in a compromising position.”
His admission shocks me. I turn and face him needing to seek out if he’s being honest with me, or just trying to make me feel better. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, and I will tell you all about it later, but for now, please just relax.”
“Here,” Mrs. Adams says as she hands us some clothing. “You’re lucky the gift shop was open.”
“Yeah, really lucky,” Hunter laughs as he steps into the flowered shorts that his mother got him.
I slide the less tacky dress she got me over my head before letting the towel drop to the floor. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome dear.”
Hunter excuses himself to head to the front desk to get a room key.
“I’m glad you two are enjoying yourselves,” his mom tells me.
“We are. I am so sorry about…”
She waves her hand at me. “Enjoy your evening.” She gives my hand a squeeze before heading off.
A minute later Hunter returns with a room key and we make our way back to our room. Stopping in front of the door there, on the floor, lie our clothes. “That bitch,” I say with a shiver.
“You’re cold,” Hunter says running his hands up and down my arms.
“I’m fine,” I lie. It wasn’t until just now that I realized how cold I was. The water, the cool breeze on the beach, followed by the air conditioning in the hotel lead me to uncontrollable shivers.
He opens the door and lets us into the room then disappears into the bathroom. When he comes back out, he tells me, “The shower is running, go warm up.”
“You don’t want to join me?” I say through my chattering teeth.
I’m cold. Freezing. But there is one thing that I am sure will warm me up more and faster than a damn hot shower. And that is Hunter’s hands on me.
Chapter 22
Hunter
Not want to join her?
Is that even a real question?
There is nothing that I want more.
Without another word, I slide the shorts my mom had provided only a few moments ago, to the ground and step out of them. She’s standing before me, shivering.
“Here, this might help,” I tell her.
My hands grip the flimsy material of her dress and pull it up and over her head. If she weren’t so cold, I would stare at her forever. A little wild, a little sweet, a whole lot of sexy stands before me and I can’t take my eyes off her.
I lift her from the ground, her petite body floating into my arms like nothing. Her legs wrap around my waist as I step us into the shower. The warm water cascading over us isn’t what heats me. It’s her. It’s the look in her eyes. The simultaneous shadow of thrill, desire, and fear. She takes my breath away and I hate that I never noticed all of this about her before now.
Right now, she is nothing more than woman. A beautiful, vulnerable woman who is opening herself up to me. Not just physically, but emotionally. I c
an see it etched on her face. Whatever is happening between us – it matters. It’s more than just sex.
My lips capture hers unable to resist the pull any longer. I taste her, I take her, I fucking brand her and make her mine. Because that’s exactly what I want her to be. Mine.
The sound of my name falling from her lips, the soft moan as I press her against the wall, my mouth trailing down her neck.
“All you have to do is say the word and I will stop.”
Please, God, don’t let her say it. Don’t let her tell me to stop.
“Don’t stop, Hunter. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
Her body shivers, her nipple pebbles beneath my tongue. It’s not the cold that’s causing it anymore. No, she’s nice and warm now. It’s me. It’s us.
“Please, Hunter.”
Jesus.
“Please what?” I growl, my teeth tugging gently tugging on her nipple as I massage her other breast with my hand.
I set her back on her feet as I dip to my knees.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her fingers threading through my hair as I kneel before her.
“I promised you I would taste you.” My lips brush against her stomach. “I never make a promise I don’t intend on keeping.”
“Hunter, you…” A swipe of my tongue down her stomach to the seam of her inner thigh. “Oh, God.” Her legs are parted, her hands up pressed flat against the wall and she moves her leg onto my shoulder.
My fingers find her center, the slickness there is pure arousal and has nothing to do with the water that is falling over us. I coat my fingers in her then bring them to my mouth. “So good.”
I dip my head, tasting and taunting her. She grinds against me, her body begging and pleading for more as her moans get louder and louder. Every inch of her perfection, every sound a blissful rhythm.
“Yes. Right there. Holy shit.”
I feel her tighten, her body filling with pleasure as her orgasm hits her. Her body tenses, then sags against the wall. My tongue takes one last taste of her in pure satisfaction.
I turn off the water and hand her a towel. “Are you warm now?”
“On fire,” she replies. Wrapped in the plush fabric she steps into me. “Please tell me you’re not done with me yet.”
“Not even close.”
