Chapter Nine

Hunter

If there was one thing I knew for sure when Saylor left me happily weak-kneed in the kitchen it was that I wanted her. All of her. For always.

For years I’d fantasized about Saylor. When I was younger, I knew that having her would destroy my friendship with Matt. Then Matt and I went into business together and I knew, for sure, I had to wipe Saylor from my mind.

Then cousin Rex got his hands on her.

Nasty, narcissistic Rex. I made one attempt to stop the relationship and was warned by my Uncle Gerard—Rex’s father—that the seed-funding I’d secured from him for Flexecutive would whither if I came between his son and the girl I thought I wanted. Saylor seemed happy, and when I questioned her, she said Rex was perfect, her dream come true. So I stepped away and got on with building our company. When we saw we needed an office in London, I was happy to run it. Anything was better than seeing Rex and Saylor together.

I had to convince her that although independence, empowerment and growth were essential, it would be just as fulfilling to explore those things as a couple. I wanted to go on that journey with her.

Our connection was undeniably off the charts. When she’d finished blowing me, she told me to hurry and dress before she did something she’d regret. “Thank you for letting me do that,” she said.

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“I do, to an extent. But I also want you to know that I’m right here if you change your mind. I’d love to return the pleasure and have you come in my mouth, too. One word and I’m there.”

She actually turned pink. “Thanks. I like you, Hunter, a lot. And I appreciate that you’re not trying to push me into anything. I guess I’m used to constantly bending to somebody else’s will. This is different. You’re different. I’m not explaining myself very well.”

“It’s okay. I get what you mean.” I grabbed a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses from the cupboard. “Come on. I’ll light the fire in the loggia. There are blankets out there. We can watch the endless snow.”

Once the fire was roaring, Saylor arranged the bottle and a single glass on the hearth and took a few photos.

“You are such a liar,” I teased.

“Don’t you dare say a word. Nobody’s allowed to know what happens behind the curtain. Half those travelers of Instagram are sitting in their LA apartments posting somebody else’s images of Tahiti. At least I’m actually here.”

I dragged one of the massive vintage cane loungers over to the fire, and pulled a couple of soft throws from the stack. “Come on, let’s lie by the fire and warm up. You can tell me your wedding plans.”

We finally got organized with wine and blankets. Snow fell just a few feet away, but there was no wind, just a wicked sub-zero temperature. Saylor rested against my chest and sipped her wine.

“I have nothing to complain about. Look at us, here in this amazing house that’s so huge and luxurious it’s almost a lodge. Beautiful wine. Fire. Snow and landscape fit for a postcard. And, well, you, Hunter. Did you know I had an enormous crush on you as a teenager?”

“I might have noticed.”

“Rubbish. You never noticed me at all. Every guy who asked me out I measured against you.”

“They’d fail by inches—”

“You’re not that big,” she said.

I laughed. “You’ve found someone bigger?”

“I guess not. You are quite a mouthful.”

“I bet I can fill other parts of you, too.”

“Hunter. You’re supposed to be honorable. I’m about to be married.”

“Yeah. To yourself.”

“Be happy for me.” The firelight caught the deep-green facets of her eyes.

“Happy?” I put a finger under her chin to keep her focus on me. “I’m jealous.”

“Seriously?” she asked, her lips curving into a smile I wanted to kiss.

Beneath the blanket, Saylor snuggled into my body, the curve of her gorgeous round butt pressed against my dick which was begging for more action. As innocent as that might have felt to her, it did nothing but rouse turmoil in me. I adjusted my position with reluctance because I needed to think. There was so little time before I returned to London and I wanted to take our relationship out of the friends-with-benefits zone and into something more exclusive before I got on that plane.

“Seriously. I’m jealous. Any guy would be. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to simply lie here as you wiggle your butt against me, as you gaze at me wearing your pretty smile and ask me ‘seriously’? All I want to do is explore every inch of you with my hands, my mouth, and, let’s be honest here, my dick. No joking. I want to make you mine, Saylor.”

“Do it,” she mouthed to me. At least, that’s what I lip-read, but I had to be certain.

“I didn’t hear that.”

“Do it, Hunter. Whatever you want. Tonight, my body’s yours.”

“I don’t want to coerce you out of your vow of sologamy. Are you sure this is in the rules? Fact is, I care about you too much to have you wake up tomorrow with regrets.”

“I think I get to write my own rules, and now you’re backing away.” She tapped my nose with her finger.

I dug my cock into the flesh of her thigh. “Does this feel as though I’m backing away? No. But I care about you too much to fuck up what we have.”

Saylor’s mouth slid along my jaw and up to my ear. “You can fuck me up all you want, Hunter,” she said in a sexy whisper.

Lust, and something wider, more profound, roared through me, obliterating all thoughts of the other people I should be considering instead of blindly going after what I wanted.

“Let’s warm you up,” I said, tugging off her clothes. We were under luxurious, soft blankets alongside a blazing fire, but there still wasn’t a lot between us and the falling snow. I slid my hand down her body and found the heat and wet between her legs.

“Yeah, that’s the spot,” she murmured. “I’ve been desperate for this since I had a taste of you in the kitchen.”

“Likewise. Damn, no condoms.”

“I’m on birth control.” She was panting already as I rubbed her clit with my thumb and stroked her entrance.

“I’m clean, Saylor. I’d never harm you.”

“Good. Don’t make me regret my trust in you.”

“You won’t be regretting anything. That’s a promise.” I shoved two fingers inside and her pussy grabbed them like a lifeline. “Tell me how you like to be fucked.”

“Hard. Like you mean it.”

I rolled her on to her back and climbed between her legs. The head of my dick left a wet trail inside her thighs until I stopped with it poised at her entrance. We locked eyes and she nodded. I thrust into her deep and fast and she responded with a groan that sounded as though it was wrestled from her throat. “Like that?” I asked.

“Yeah, fuck.”

The heat and fit of her astounded me. “Tell me again why we waited so long to do this?”

“Some crazy reason I’ve forgotten already.”

“Good, because this pussy is mine.” I pulled out and shoved into her again, forcing a long groan from her. “And this cock is yours.”

“That’s right,” she said.

“Perfect.” I pulled her leg high around my waist, holding it there as I pumped into her. The blanket slipped from my back, the cold air a balm to my heated skin. “Not too hard?” I asked.

“Never.”

“Good.” I slid a hand between us and found her swollen nub, wet with the mingled juice of our arousal. I rubbed her until her walls tightened around my cock then I pulled my hand away and pushed my fingers into her mouth. “Suck.”

She licked and sucked like a hungry lamb.

“That’s it, keep sucking and use your hand to touch yourself.”

She garbled something over my fingers but snaked her hand between us, her knuckles digging low against me every time I buried myself into the depth of her.

“I’m close, Saylor, make yourself come.”

I held back my orgasm, somehow, and waited for her. Beneath me her back arched, her head tipping back making my fingers slip from her mouth. She cried out my name, her pussy clenching over and over, crushing the tenuous grip I had on my self-control. I came right after her. Ball-breakingly hard and fast, giving her every ounce of pent-up pressure I’d contained since I saw her the first morning at the door of the kitchen wearing nothing more than a too-short T-shirt. I cursed and shouted her name as she laughed.

Drained, I rolled to the side and pulled Saylor on top of me. Something shifted. Fucking Saylor wasn’t a one-off event because of circumstances, it was a beginning. I couldn’t leave this alone. Walking away would be impossible. Sure, she had this solo thing she wanted to do herself, and I’d support her through that, but I also intended to be there when she was ready for me.

“Thank you,” I said, the two words loaded with more meaning than I could articulate in that moment of pure contentment.

“Thank you, too.” She gave me a cheeky wink.

“I really mean thank you. I’m not talking about the fuck—though it was awesome, thanks—but I mean for trusting me, and loosening the tight constraints of your sologamy. My intention wasn’t to come here and bust that, and I hope you can rewrite your rules, or your marry-yourself vows—”

“I guess I cheated on myself,” she giggled.

I pulled her down for a kiss. “You make me want to be bad,” I said against her lips.

“Apparently Santa is a myth, so you can be as bad as you want. It won’t affect your Christmas morning.”

“Good, because I intend to be very bad. And Christmas morning will blow your mind.”

“Yeah, well, marrying yourself will do that.”

I had a different idea for Saylor for Christmas morning, but it would take some planning to pull it off. “We’re going to get cold pretty quick so let me wrap you in this blanket and carry you to bed.”

She put her arms around my neck and placed soft kisses at the base of my throat as I carried her inside.

“Do you need water, or anything?” I asked as we neared the kitchen.

“I need to pee so you’d better carry me to the bathroom.”

“So romantic, Saylor.”

“It’s the girl in me,” she teased. “You’ll get used to it.”

I intended to.

She peed, and I waited for her, then I carried her to bed. She softened in my arms, and rounded into me beneath the covers, sighing as I stroked her back to put her to sleep.