The noise that I could hear—the kids screaming, the adults arguing, the constant groan of the air conditioner above our heads—all of that fell by the wayside as I got my first taste of my wife.
The woman that I’d been non-stop thinking about for so long.
One thousand, three hundred and thirty days, to be exact.
From the very first day that I’d run into her, I’d wanted her.
I hadn’t realized just how much until she’d slowly started to worm her way into my every thought sometime after her fourth visit to the penitentiary.
Though, it wasn’t until one of the inmates by the name of Randolph Remeron commented on how ‘hard he would fuck her ass’ after seeing her with me for the first time that I truly understood the depth of my feelings for her.
That was also the first and only time that I’d beaten the absolute dog piss out of someone.
That was also the day that I stopped wearing glasses during my prison stay because I realized what kind of danger they posed for me.
Getting glass in my eyeballs that one and only time had been the turning point for me.
That’d also been how I’d caught my very first scar on my eye.
I pulled back, my breath leaving me in pants, and stared at the woman in front of me.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” I admitted.
Her face fell and she went to push away, but I stayed firm.
“But I’m not sorry it happened,” I continued, my eyes taking in every single inch of her. “I’ve wanted to do that since the very first day I met you.”
Her mouth snapped closed as she looked at me in surprise.
“I’d very much like to copulate with you,” I said, reverting to my nerd side when I got nervous.
Her lips twitched. “Copulate?”
I shrugged. “I’d say fuck, but I almost feel like that’s a little too suggestive.”
“I think ‘copulate’ or ‘fuck’ are two things that are both equally suggestive.” She pressed her fingers against the black glasses on my face and pushed them farther up my nose until they rested more comfortably. “And as much as I’d like to do this, we’re at your parents’ house. I’d rather not…”
“I’d rather,” I told her, pressing my hard erection against her. “And it’ll serve to piss my parents off even more. Let’s.”
My words caused a smile to light her face. “Are you trying to tell me you’d have sex with me for the first time in your mother’s house when you just told her to fuck off?”
I grinned. “You heard that?”
She nodded. “I touched myself in the shower to your words.”
I snickered and reached for the towel that was separating her naked body from my clothed one.
She gave a half-hearted attempt at holding it in place, but ultimately held on not much longer than a half second.
The moment that she was bared to my gaze, her eyes dilated, and she placed her hands over her chest in reaction to the growl that left my mouth.
When her hands moved, I caught them up in one of mine and pressed them against the wall above her head.
“No,” I said. “Let me look at you.”
She squirmed underneath my penetrating gaze.
“When you look at me like that, I feel vulnerable,” she admitted, her lips pursing as she looked away.
I caught her chin with my free hand and directed her to look at my face once again.
When she looked up, the vulnerability in her eyes made my heart jolt.
“I want to do nothing more than to make you smile. Give you everything you could ever want. And make you happy all at the same time,” I told her. “When you look at me like that, I feel like I’m doing something you don’t want me to do.”
She licked her lips, then reached for me, her hands going to either side of my head as she pulled me closer.
When my mouth was only inches from hers she said, “I’ve never done this before.”
I frowned. “This?”
“Sex. Sober sex. Well, I’d say sex in general, but there were a couple of times in college that I can vaguely remember because I had to get rip-roaring drunk to make it happen. My nerves are Jell-O when it comes to being outgoing like this.”
I allowed my eyes to search her face.
“So I’ll be your first experience that you remember without alcohol?” I asked. “Because that sounds like something I want to have. Your first.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Yes. But… I just… Hunt. I’m super nervous. I’m worried that I’m not going to do it right.”
I caught her up and lifted her until she wasn’t touching the floor. Then guided her legs around my waist.
When I had her where I wanted her, I once again reached for her hands that were still on either side of my face, using only my body to hold her in place.
“I don’t think anything we can do together is ‘wrong,’” I admitted. “But, if at any time you feel that we should stop for any reason at all, even if you’re uncomfortable that I’m looking at you too intensely, I want you to say something. I’ll stop. We’ll reassess and go from there.”
She groaned and leaned forward so that her forehead was resting against mine. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Hunt McJimpsey.”
I grinned and pressed forward, allowing my hard cock to dig into her most private of places.
“I don’t think you understand the seriousness of what you do for me either, Mrs. McJimpsey,” I told her honestly.
Then I moved until I could deposit her on my childhood bed.
The bed that had always been a prop in my room because I’d always sleep in my computer chair sitting straight up.
Now, though? Now it was about to see some use.
Slowly sitting up and unhooking her legs from around my waist, I divested myself of my clothes.
When I was standing there naked in front of her, the look on her face would’ve been enough to make me hard.
Had I not already been in a constant state of arousal whenever she was around.
“You’re looking at me like you’re about to devour me,” she whispered shakily.
I put one knee in the bed in between her splayed thighs, then dropped down until my hard cock was nestled between her folds, and my upper body was pressed against hers.
Then I kissed her.
Long. Deep. Wet.
When her tongue touched mine, tangling with mine as she slowly started to heat up beneath me, I started to rock my hips back and forth.
She was wet.
Really wet.
So wet in fact that with each rock of my hips, she covered my cock with more and more of her excitement until I knew that if I angled my hips just right and adjusted my cock’s angle, my dick would slide right inside of her with little resistance.
She must’ve had the same thought right around the same time, too, because between one thrust and the next, I went from outside of her hot pussy to inside.
When my cock sank inside of her heat a few inches, we both paused in surprise.
Me because she’d made the first move to take me inside of her body, and her because she was adjusting to my size.
I had to close my eyes as I tried to rein in my thoughts.
She gasped, her mouth pressing against my throat. “Holy crap, you’re big.”
I pulled out slightly and sank back inside, just a little farther this time than the previous.
“I mean, I knew you were big,” she murmured. “You sure can fill out a pair of sweatpants. But I didn’t realize you were this big.”
I wasn’t that big.
She was just that tight.
“How long’s it been for you?” I asked. “Because as much as I love you giving my cock all the credit, you’re really tight, and I’m not nearly as big as you think I am.”
“You’re big,” she whispered into my ear, her fingernails digging into the skin beneath my shoulder blades. “I’m not a novice here. I can remember what it felt like to have
something inside of me, and they were all average. Or so I’ve been told by Six. You’re above average. Well above average.”
As much as I liked her stroking my ego, I didn’t like the direction my thoughts had gone.
The thought of her being touched intimately by any other man was making my anger rise.
I didn’t like the idea.
And I sure the fuck didn’t like her remembering it while I was inside of her.
Without much thought, I pulled out and then slammed back inside, taking every available inch of space inside of her and more.
“Holy balls, Hunt!” she squeaked as she dug those nails in deeper. “Jesus Christ. Warn a woman before you go doing that.”
I bent down and bit her shoulder, then pulled back to lick the hurt.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’ll try to shut you up in a different way next time.”
She snickered, then withdrew her nails, only to sink them back in a second later when I withdrew and pushed back inside.
“Goddammit,” she whispered into my ear, her breath tickling as she spoke. “You’re really good at this. I feel like I’m about to come, and we…”
I took her mouth again.
As much as I loved her mouth, I needed this to last at least until she got off.
If she kept talking, I’d come.
I was a man that liked to have his brain exercised, and when she spoke about how good it felt, my brain went wild with the implications.
Meaning, it’d be better for both her and me if she just shut up.
“Shit,” she whispered when I canted my hips to take her at a different angle. “Holy hell.”
She was saying that a lot.
Holy hell. Holy balls.
“Holy fuck!” she cried out when I pulled away from her, grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her up as I slowly slid her up and down the length of my cock. “Holy…”
There she went with the holys again.
“Jesus, yes.” She licked her lips, her body bowing slightly as I took her. “Yes, God. Right there.”
“Are you a religious person?” I asked curiously as I looked at her clit. Her pussy. How great she looked stretched around me. “Because you have a lot of religious words coming out of your mouth right now.”
She groaned and lifted her heels to dig into my thighs.
That’s when I realized how close she was.
Her pussy was rippling around me, and her nipples were pebbled into hard little peaks that just begged for my attention.
But I didn’t move or change my angle, because before the thought could even enter my mind to grab those perky nipples, her body started to convulse around me.
That’s when I realized that I was fucking up.
I should’ve had a condom on.
I should’ve been protecting her.
But I wasn’t.
And I realized that I didn’t want to, either.
The thought of her pregnant and heavy with my child made sense to me.
What also made sense was binding her to me in a way where she would never want to leave.
And a baby sounded like an excellent idea for that.
My balls drew up at that thought and before I could think better of it, I was coming. Inside of her.
Great spurts of my release left my body and entered hers.
Just the thought of it taking root was enough to make me come in a way that I’d never come before.
After we were both spent, we lay there panting, me probably making it harder for her to breathe since it seemed I couldn’t spare the energy to roll over and allow her the room.
It was only as I lay there like that for a good sixty seconds—I’d counted—that I finally regained enough sense to roll over.
I didn’t want her to die.
Not when I wanted to do that a hundred different times, in a hundred different ways.
Just as I was about to open my mouth to tell her that what we’d just done was the best thing I’d ever felt in my life, the yelling started from downstairs.
“My sister’s husband must be here,” I rumbled, nuzzling Wyett’s boob.
She laughed and pushed me away, then said, “Go get changed, buddy.”
I did, watching her rapturously as she did the same.
When we were both dressed and as ready as we were going to be, we headed outside into chaos.
“I know you weren’t watching him, you selfish cow!” Phil said with his son in his arms. “We’re leaving. Have fun with your family and your catty name-calling and your people that you got your rotten personality from.” Phil looked up at the two of us coming down the stairs, gave one nod to us, then left out the wide-open front door.
Oh, boy.
Mother really must’ve been in a tizzy or she would’ve closed that.
Nothing bothered my mother more than airing out her dirty laundry to the public.
I sped up and continued to drag Wyett, whose hand was in mine, down the stairs.
I’d just made it to the front porch when my sisters and mother converged.
“Don’t come back here, asshole,” Willa hissed.
I gave her a thumbs up and continued walking.
“Or you’ll regret it,” Della grumbled.
“Yeah, you’ll totally regret it,” Rella confirmed.
Wyett slowed, but I tugged on her hand lightly to keep her walking.
“Don’t stop,” I ordered.
She sighed and continued walking with me, but not before grumbling under her breath, “I don’t know how you survived this dragon’s den, but I’m glad that you did.”
I laughed all the way to my car.
CHAPTER 11
Wyett: age is just a number.
Hunt: false, it’s a word.
WYETT
I wasn’t sure where he was going, but when he pulled up at the house that Six shared with her new man, I was more than a little surprised.
“What are you doing?” I found myself asking curiously.
“You need your friend after that.” He paused. “And your friend happens to be with the man that’s controlling my leash, so to speak, so I’m going to kill two birds with one stone.”
I blinked. “What?”
Hunt laughed as he got out of the vehicle, then laughed some more when he saw the look on my face as he rounded the truck and opened my door for me.
“Come on. There are a few things I need to go over with him, and you can talk to Six if you’d like.”
I bit my lip as he all but tugged me out of the car.
“I haven’t told Six that I’m married,” I admitted. “I was waiting for the right time…”
He looked down at me and nailed me with a look. “Now would probably be the time. Because I didn’t hide you from Lynn. So it’s only a matter of time before she figures it out.”
Before I could reply to that, Six opened the door to her home, took about eight steps outside, and then pointed at me accusingly. “You’re married?”
I came to a stop, and Hunt let go of my hand and continued to walk.
Not only did he not look back, but he didn’t even break stride.
“Hunt!” I called out. “How could you leave me like this?”
His laughter followed him inside, leaving me with my best friend glaring daggers at me.
“How’d you find out?” I asked curiously.
“I found out when Lynn looked at the security monitors and said, ‘Oh, look. It’s Hunt and his wife, your best friend. Baby, will you go get the door?’” Six mimicked.
I blinked. “I was going to tell you.”
“Sure you were.” She paused. “Was this before or after my funeral?”
I sighed. “You’re being quite dramatic.”
“I’m not being dramatic. I’m pissed because this would be something that I would share with you. You’re my best friend. Yet you didn’t give me the same courtesy. You don’t keep secrets from me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why did you keep this secret?”
I s
cratched my head right above my ear. “Do you want the truth?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. I wouldn’t be so pissed if I didn’t.”
“Then, here it goes.” I paused. “I didn’t tell you everything because my aunt is still trying to fight me for the estate. I’ve been living off of Hunt’s money for the last four years. Everything my aunt has done up until this point has been disastrous. I can’t access my accounts. I can’t go into the house where I grew up. And as of just a few weeks ago, I can’t even access the land next to your husband’s anymore. The judge is falling for her poor pitiful me act and I’m going to probably lose.”
“Meaning you didn’t want me to murder your aunt, so you kept everything quiet so you wouldn’t have to explain about her,” she summarized.
I nodded. “Precisely.”
“Well,” Six sighed. “That makes sense.” Then she narrowed her eyes into tiny slits. “I’ll be dealing with your aunt from now on.”
“No,” Lynn disagreed. “You won’t. Hunt is on top of it. Now come inside. You’re letting all the air out. Were you raised in a barn?”
Six rolled her eyes at her husband, who was now standing inside the wide-open front door.
“I was raised in a Catholic school for girls, just like Wyett. The doors were self-closing,” she pointed out.
Lynn snorted and caught his wife up in his arms, then gestured for me to follow them inside.
I threw the door closed and followed them, only to come to a stop when I saw that the living room was absolutely full.
“Six,” I said as I looked around the living room, stopping by my best friend who’d been put down by her husband and was now standing right next to me. “You have a house full of people, and you just aired out almost every bit of my dirty laundry for everyone to hear.”
Six looked around at the room full of people. Then she started to introduce them.
“This is Beckham, and her man Trouper. That’s their son, Hiro.” Six pointed at a very cute couple with the cutest little boy sitting in their lap. But just as quickly as I looked, my gaze darted to the next set of people. “That’s Swayze and Trick. They’re seriously named after, for real, Ghost people. But they don’t find it nearly as amusing as I do,” she continued. “This is Zach. He’s always this dark and broody.”
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