Alley Cats

 

 

One month later

 

“So, I think once the filing cabinets I ordered arrive, I’m pretty much done. I…” But I lose all train of thought when Hunter presses his hardened chest to my back and sucks over my racing pulse.

You’d think I’d be used to his kisses by now, but nope, each kiss, touch is something new.

The past month has been something else. No more stolen moments or kisses because now that Hunter and I have kissed, we can’t seem to stop. I didn’t even realize how much I loved making out like a teenager, but kissing Hunter is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

He stuck true to his word and we haven’t resorted to labeling what we have, but that’s okay, because I know he’s been faithful, and that’s all I ever wanted. I don’t need to declare to the world that he’s my boyfriend, because as long as we know what we mean to each other, then screw everyone else. I also think it’ll freak him out, seeing as he’s never had a serious girlfriend before.

I still can’t believe I’m the person to break the mold.

Considering this is his first “relationship,” so far, on most days, he’s taken to it like a duck to water. Sometimes he forgets to call, or I catch him looking at an attractive woman, but old habits die hard. He’s learning and so am I. When I catch him, I want to pluck out his eyeballs, and push the unsuspecting woman down the stairs. But instead, I tell myself he’s with me and me only, and I have to remember that. My insecurity still lingers, but it’ll take time.

My mom is desperate to meet Hunter, and I will introduce him soon, but I’m still getting used to the idea of us being friends and not enemies. We’re taking things slow because this is uncharted waters for us both.

“You’ve done a remarkable job. That desk is the perfect height for me to—”

“Okay, Casanova,” I say, cutting him off as I turn. Wrapping my arms around his nape, I peer into his sea green eyes. “Do you like it?”

Hunter takes my breath away and now is no exception. He looks incredibly sexy in a navy suit, his long hair and heavy scruff challenging the image of a stuffy, conservative businessman. “I don’t just like it. I love it. You’re most talented with your hands.” He smirks and my insides go kaboom!

“I’m pleased. I just have a few more things to do in your bedroom, and then I’m done.”

“I’ve liked having you in my bedroom. And in my bed,” he mischievously adds, laying a gentle kiss over the crease of my mouth. Goose bumps lick every inch of flesh and my greedy body demands more.

We had early morning sex, which extended late in the AM, but Hunter wouldn’t release me until he was satisfied I walked with a well-sated limp. But no matter how much he gives me, I always want more.

“Well, that’s because I got a state of the art, posture correcting mattress and disposed of your old one with fire,” I quip. Regardless of our newfound truce, our bickering will always prevail until the end of time.

“Now, now, there’s no need for you to be jealous. I can handle only one nymphomaniac at a time.” My mouth parts, while Hunter chuckles. “I’m not complaining. I love that you’re a gluttonous sex-crazed maniac when it comes to my glorious cock.”

I burst into laughter. “Please. It’s either we fuck, or I have to talk to you. God forbid that happens.”

That slanted grin I’ve grown to love tugs at his sinful lips. “Fuck that. Who wants to turn into one of those boring couples who…talk.” He shudders playfully, while I rein back my excitement over the fact he just referred to us as being a couple. “Speaking of his and her t-shirt wearers, are we still on for dinner tonight with Dix and Cherry Pie?”

Who would have thought I’d be a fan of double dating?

Nodding, I press my chest to his, desperate to feel his burly body against mine. He hums low, the sound striking between my legs. “Yes. Maddy would have my head. She’s so nervous about everything running smoothly, and by that, I mean she’s worried you’re going to dump Dixon in Mexico with nothing but a school girl’s outfit and a bottle of lube.”

“Moi?” He fakes horror, nestling his hands low around my waist. “Please. Give me a little more credit. I’d at least be there to film it.” Arching a brow, he surrenders with a low chuckle. “Okay, fine, you win. No lube.”

“You’re impossible,” I reply lightly, biting the inside of my cheek when he dips low and squeezes my ass.

“Speaking of lube…” My cheeks flush, which is exactly the response Hunter had hoped for. Almost every part of my body has been explored by him, all but one.

I tremble in his arms, the sensation almost too much. “In your dreams, O’Shea.”

“You and your fine ass make a nightly appearance,” he counters without pause.

That mouth—I love it and I love… But I stop soon after I think thoughts which are bound to get me into trouble.

Nuzzling into my neck, he suckles along the flesh, sampling and savoring like I’m his most favorite meal. My eyes roll into the back of my head as an untamed moan slips free. “You are so fucking sexy. Please tell me you forgot to wear underwear on purpose because I need to get inside of you like right now.”

He drags the hem of my skirt up my legs, and lucky for us both, I most certainly ditched the offensive garment, as they just get in the way.

Just as he’s inches away from exposing my ass, a light knock sounds at the door. We both groan, but I know we will have to continue this later because Hunter is waiting on his “source” to come back to him with news of the infamous watch.

We’ve both looked high and low, but to no avail. Although he would rather slice off his balls with a rusted butter knife than admit he’s worried, I know deep down, he’s concerned Gail will get to Mr. Yeong first.

It seems petty to me, but this is how someone with Mr. Yeong’s standing acts. He is so accustomed to getting everything he wants, that he thinks he can throw impossible demands around like finding a needle in a haystack is an easy thing to do.

If I were Hunter, I would tell him to shove it, but it seems to be personal now that Gail is involved. And Hunter is also a man of his word. He’s tenacious, determined, and driven in everything that he does. He is still certain Mr. Yeong will stay loyal to him, but if Gail found that watch before Hunter, I have no doubt loyalty between them would be long forgotten.

Luckily for Hunter, he’s kept the conditions of their deal a secret, which is why I’ve ordered filing cabinets rivaling Fort Knox, because now he can file away his secrets under lock and key.

When the knocking strikes once again, Hunter gives my lips a quick kiss. “You’d think they pay me to come here to work, right? How fucking rude.” I giggle, quickly rearranging myself before I flash my ass to whoever is outside the door.

However, when Hunter opens the door, I wish I was still half-dressed, because I would gladly moon the skank who just entered the room.

Hunter and I agree on most things—that a red car does drive faster, lemon with Corona is for pussies, and that fries with mayonnaise are the bomb, but when it comes to this doe-eyed Pollyanna, we are universes apart. For obvious reasons, I want to throat punch her, but physical violence aside, I still don’t trust her and am certain she’s still scheming. The problem is, I still don’t have any proof.

If I were a better actress, I could attempt to act semi-civil and dig for dirt. But every time she opens that perfect pout, I want to shut it with my fist. To know Hunter and her have been…together, erases all hopes of me uncovering the truth from her firsthand.

“Oh, sorry, did I interrupt?” she says melodiously.

She’s so sweet she’d give diabetes, diabetes.

Hunter opens his mouth, but I interject. “Yes, actually you did. We were seconds away from christening this new desk.” I run my fingertips along the polished wood, relishing in the fact that the old one, the one which Keira knew far too well, sits in a burned heap.

Hunter smirks proudly, which tickles me pink. He doesn’t conceal the fact we’re seeing one another, and when he looks at me with that feral look glistening in his eye, I’m tempted to shake imaginary pom poms and chant rah, rah, rah!

But pushing aside the green-eyed monster, I grab my bag and make a beeline for the door. I’ve got work to do. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom. I suddenly have the urge to throw up.”

Hunter sighs, shaking his head, but it’ll be a cold day in hell the moment I play nice with this wolf in hooker’s clothing.

I can basically hear her lady parts weep in relief now that they’re alone with Hunter, but I shove down my jealousy because I’m determined to try this trust thing on for size. I refuse to allow the skeletons of my past to rule whatever this is with Hunter, and it’s my newfound outlook on life that leads me in the direction of Gail’s office.

Whatever Keira is up to, I have no doubt Gail is up to something far worse. I know where to find him, seeing as he’s training for the upcoming New York marathon. His meal times are on a meticulous roster, and as I look down at my watch, I see that he’s chowing down on his bland meal of chicken and something leafy and green.

I’ve tried to be subtle and kept the stalking to a minimum, but regardless of my attempts to be sly, Hunter has let drop that he thinks I have the hots for the disgusting slime ball. It’s all said tongue in cheek, but I know if Hunter caught Gail even looking at me sideways, he’d have no qualms ripping out his windpipe and using it to play “Greensleeves.”

That thought warms my heart and stokes the constant fire burning within.

Most men are stupid, I say most because there is a small exception who although they think with their dicks, they don’t lead with them all of the time. Hunter falls into this category on most days. As does Dixon, whose loyalty toward Maddy has me hoping that one day, I can be as grown up as them.

Dipping my hands into my low cut, silk blouse, I push up my boobs, impressed how this push-up bra complements the girls. Puckering my lips to ensure they’re still coated with my pink gloss, I run my fingers through my hair to ensure I have a freshly fucked look.

The pièce de résistance is I hike up my skirt, making a modest hemline an indecently short lure for hormone-driven idiots like Gail. The moment I step foot into the lunchroom, I can practically see Gail’s mouth hit the floor.

Whatever superfood he’s eating is suspended mid-air as he openly checks me out from head to toe. I instantly feel like bathing in acid, but the thought of this creep potentially sabotaging what Hunter has worked so hard for spurs me on.

This is the first opportunity I’ve had to undertake Operation Burn in Hell because the deeper I dig, I just know I’ll unearth whatever vile plans this bottom feeder has planned. Once I get to the bottom of his agenda, I know Keira’s will soon follow.

And that’s why I saunter toward the coffee machine, ensuring to wiggle my ass each step of the way.

I’ve used this coffee machine a thousand times before, but I stand in front of it, twirling a lock of hair around my finger while bending low. This, of course, is done with intent to ride the hem even higher than it already sits.

“Need a hand?” If Chlamydia and Ebola had a baby, then Gail’s voice is what its wailing would sound like.

But for the greater good, I remember why I’m here and giggle. “There’s just so many buttons. I can never remember what does what.”

Turning over my shoulder, I batt my eyelashes, just how his assistant has mastered the art of flapping hers. Just when I think it’s too much, he stands and adjusts his belt. “Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Leave the hard stuff to me.”

Oh my god. Do girls actually fall for this bullshit? When he ambles over like he’s Mr. Universe himself, I know the answer is yes. It makes me appreciate Hunter’s dirty candor all the more. He may be filthy, but at least he doesn’t make me want to render myself unconscious so I forget our conversations ever took place.

Gail’s heavy-handed cologne has me nigh on gagging, but I continue standing like a dim-witted moron as he reaches for a mug and places it under the nozzle. “These buttons here tell you which drink selection you can make. Can you see?” Neil Armstrong could see the buttons he’s pointing to when he landed on the moon, but I lean in close, purposely grazing his arm with my boob. Brushing back my hair, I pretend to need a moment to take in everything he just said.

When ten seconds pass, I turn to him, mouth parted in staged awe. “Wow, you’re like, so smart.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, darlin’.” I actually throw up in my mouth a little. “But I suppose you can be forgiven because hanging around that dumbass, O’Shea, is sure to rub off on you.”

Digging my fingernails into my palm to stop myself from slapping that smug smile from his cheeks, I inhale deeply and focus on why I’m here. “Hunter is just someone to have fun with. I like having fun.”

And that right there is the magical word—fun. The word is what every man looking for a good time wants to hear.

He slithers closer and I can see why some women may find him attractive. He’s all muscle with big baby blues, but unlike Dixon, his are icy and cold. He’s also an enormous, arrogant asshole.

I decide to go in for the kill, because my quota for fucktards has been reached. “Do you like having fun?”

Gail licks his thick lips as he pushes the Long Black button on the coffee machine. “Fun is my middle name. Maybe one day I can show you what the buttons on my Aston Martin do.” I’ve never wanted to castrate someone more than I do right now.

Revoking his right to reproduce seems just, because this world has more than enough assholes, but I smile sweetly. “Sure, I’d love that.”

Gail reaches into his back pocket, retrieving his wallet. When he produces a crisp white business card and pen, I know he wants my digits. Swallowing down my aversion, I quickly scribble my cell number, and for good measure, draw a love heart near my name. “Call me,” I purr, passing him the card.

“Did you seriously just ask me if Beijing is in India? Please put someone on the phone who isn’t a complete moron.” I’d recognize that voice anywhere. I’m overcome with an immense sense of guilt, but I remind myself why I’ve resorted to liaising with this jerkoff.

Gail smugly pockets my number, winking when Hunter barges into the lunchroom about to rip whoever he’s speaking to a new one. However, when he sees Gail standing a little too close for comfort, his anger is redirected. “I’ll call you back.”

Needing to distract myself before I blow my cover, I reach for the coffee and take a small sip. Gail looks happier than a pig in shit when he turns around, no doubt locking eyes with Hunter. I need a moment to compose myself.

“Are you lost?” Gail quips, while my fingers clench around the mug.

“How about you get lost,” Hunter barks without pause. “Or better yet, how about you do the world a favor and go play in traffic.” A smile tugs at my lips. Gail has no comeback, of course. I hear him collect his unfinished lunch before the door slams shut. Hunter is by my side in three long strides.

Finding my lady balls, I eventually crane my neck to look up at him. There is no mistaking his anger and curiosity, but I simply continue sipping my coffee, hoping he will let it slide.

“So… any reason why you didn’t throw that scalding cup of coffee into Gail’s face?” he asks, my hopes dwindling.

Shrugging, I reply, “And waste a perfectly good cup of joe on that asshole? I think not.” In and out, I tell myself, steadying my breathing, but he so knows I’m lying.

“I may not be a relationship guru, but I know when a woman is lying to me. Do you think he’s prettier than me?” This is so like Hunter to make a joke when he’s insecure.

“Of course not,” I scoff.

The mood turns serious and Hunter reveals we’re still both finding our feet. “You’d tell me if you were getting bored, right? Or I’m doing something wrong? Did I leave the toilet seat up?” He’s grasping at straws, and it seems we’re both learning the ropes when it comes to this relationship. “I suck at this whole dating thing.”

Putting his mind at ease, I shake my head. “No, you don’t.”

“So I’ve got nothing to worry about?”

His sincerity is too much. “Cross my heart,” I reply, doing exactly that. “Besides, Gail and I were just talking. Unlike Keira, who wants to do a lot more than talk whenever you’re involved.”

Deflection—the best way I can deal with this situation without buckling and spilling the beans.

Hunter sighs, running a hand over his scruff. “As much as you hate Keira, she’s once again put her neck out to save my ass.” My interest is completely piqued. Hunter continues. “I have to go to China. Gail has once again been sniffing around Mr. Yeong, and I’ll be damned if that little shitstain ruins what I’ve worked so hard for. Keira showed me phone records and emails exchanged between them. It appears Mr. Yeong is falling for his utter bullshit, and seeing as I’m no closer to finding this fucking watch, I need to talk some sense into him, face to face.”

Alarm bells sound. Who on earth has phone records on hand? Or prints out emails? A scheming, sneaky so and so, that’s who. Keira’s actions have just cemented what I need to do. She will obviously resort to any means to win Hunter over, and is using his hatred for Gail as a bargaining chip. I see right through her façade, and I’m certain she wants me and Gail out of the picture so she can have Hunter, and his success all to herself. Hunter is the perfect package, and she will clearly stop at nothing to get what she wants.

Well, she’s got another thing coming, because that perfect package is mine. It’s time to step up the ante. “When are you leaving?”

Hunter removes the cup I’m clinging to for dear life. “Tomorrow if I can get a flight.” Perfect. The sooner the better. I don’t have a second to spare. As I’m detailing over ways I can get Gail to talk, Hunter sneaks up on me and steals my breath away. “Fancy a trip to China?”

“What?”

His wicked lips twist into an amused grin. “You’ve got something against the Chinese?”

Shaking my head to hopefully knock some sense into it, I reply, “Of course I don’t. I just, wow…you want me to come with you?”

He nods, looping a hand low around my waist. “Yes. I do.”

My heart not only swells, it inflates to triple its normal size. But I can’t go. Finding out what Keira and Gail are up to is my main objective. If my gut is right, Hunter will thank me in the long run.

Stepping into his arms, I bask in his virile fragrance, coupling the scent to home. “I wish I could, but I still have so much work to do. With you gone, I might actually have half a shot of finishing what I started.” That’s a complete double-edged sword, but Hunter nods, none the wiser. “You’re a complete distraction.”

A crooked smirk plays at his lips before he lowers his head and kisses over my racing pulse. Tipping my head back, I close my eyes and allow him free rein. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Okay then, I’ll stop.”

Just as he attempts to pull away, my hand shoots out and I thread my fingers through his soft hair. Holding him in place, I hum when the warmth of his breath trounces against my needy flesh. “Let’s not be rash now.”

He chuckles against me.

“Thank you for asking me. On any other occasion, I would have loved to come, but maybe next time?” I phrase it as a question, hoping there will be many more invitations to travel the globe with my worldly boyfriend.

Hunter suckles at my nape, his tongue and lips working me into a frenzy. Each lash seems to strengthen my adoration for him, and before long, I know I’ll reach the point of no return. I wonder if I’m already there.

“I’ll take you anywhere, Shortcake.” Be still my heart. “But right now, how about I take you back to my office and we also finish what we started.” Be still my lady parts.

With that said, I temporarily forget my devious plan to bring down Gail and Keira and focus on the man who is sure to be the death of me…but my demise has never felt this good.

 

 

“Okay, so you’ll be back in a week?” Maddy asks, frantically scribbling in her diary.

It’s Friday, and like most Fridays, we’re out at some bar, having drinks and discussing the week which passed. Tonight, the topic of discussion is the forthcoming wedding, and Hunter leaving for China tomorrow morning.

“Yes, a week tops. Don’t worry, Cherry Pie. Besides, I’ll have my cell. You can call me anytime.” When he reaches for her hand and rubs it reassuringly, I can’t help but fall harder for him.

“It’ll be okay, Angelo. The wedding is a few weeks away. We’ve got this.” Dixon kisses her cheek, his touch appearing to appease her worries instantly.

“I’m still here, Maddy, and if Hunter is unavailable, I’m sure his secretary can take a message,” I can’t help but quip.

I’m surprised Keira didn’t invite herself to China. But I guess she’s the perfect chameleon and doesn’t want to clue Gail into her double life.

“What the hell do you need a secretary for?” Dixon asks, wrapping his arm around Maddy. “It’s not like you do any work.” Hunter flips him off, while I decide to vent to the only person who seems to agree with me.

“I’m talking about Keira,” I clarify, reaching for my vodka—it’s the perfect chaser to wash the rancid name from my mouth.

It appears Dixon needs the same medicine as me, because he blanches before downing his scotch. “Please tell me you’ve forgotten her name by now.”

I scoff, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “As if. She’s like a bad smell that just won’t go away.” Batting my lashes and trying this doe-eyed look on for size, I coo, “Can I get you another coffee, Hunter? Oh, your shoelace is undone. Here, let me get that for you. You want me to wipe your ass while I’m down here?” Dixon bursts out laughing, impressed with my Keira impersonation.

Hunter smirks as he leans back in the booth and interlaces both hands behind his neck. “My, my, that shade of green suits you.”

I roll my eyes. “Jealous of her? Please. I’m not jealous. I’m just surprised at how fucking stupid you can be. She flashes her ass and you’re all goo goo gaga.” I’m getting riled up, but this is tame. I don’t want to offend Maddy with my offensive cursing.

“I’ll have you know her ass is the ugly sister compared to yours.” So not helping, considering I know he has grounds for comparison. The need to strangle her amplifies tenfold.

I elbow him in the ribs before standing. “I’m going to the restroom.”

“I’ll come.” Maddy stands too, while Hunter slips from his comfortable perch.

“Uh oh. This can only mean trouble. What do you women do in there? Strategize world peace?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Maddy tactfully says, while I don’t bother with diplomacy.

“We’re going to talk about what an utter dick you are.” Hunter laughs exuberantly, while Maddy loops her arm through mine.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” she teases, before leading us toward the bathroom.

Once inside the cubicle, my cell chimes. Thinking it’s Hunter, I unlock my phone and open the message with a smile. That soon turns to a horrified retching when I see what’s on my screen.

It’s a dick pic—a tiny dick, so definitely not Hunter. The caption has me soon guessing just whose needle dick this is.

Wanna have fun? Call me.

My gag reflex works overtime as I swallow down my vomit.

Gail’s cock looks like a Donskoy kitten in a bright pink turtleneck. I quickly type out a reply so I can delete this image and then burn my phone.

I can’t wait to have fun with that…I’ll be in touch.

I quickly obliterate the obscenity from my screen, wishing I could do the same to the image in my brain.

Needing some fresh air, I launch out of the stall, only to meet Maddy’s eyes in the mirror as she reapplies her lipstick. “What are you up to?” she asks, mid-stroke.

“Nothing,” I singsong, walking toward the basin.

“Uh huh. You’ve got that same look you had when you cut off Chloe Taylor’s pigtail in third grade.”

“She was asking for it,” I reply, turning on the faucet and washing my hands. “Ashton asked me to go steady, not her.”

Maddy smiles, the memory a fond one for both of us, as it highlights simpler times. “What’s your beef with Keira?” I raise my eyebrows, pausing from pumping the soap dispenser. “Apart from the obvious.”

“I don’t trust her,” I frankly declare. “She also has the type of face you want to greet with a brick.”

Once Maddy is done applying her pink lipstick, she caps the tube with a smirk. “Someone sounds like a jealous girlfriend.” And this is exactly the reason why I need proof.

“Me? Jealous? I don’t think so.”

“So, you’re his girlfriend then?” Damn, I should have seen that coming. “Hey, no judgment. God knows it took me a while to adjust, but as long as you’re happy…”

I dry my hands on a paper towel, stalling, looking at her as I ponder over her words. Am I happy? I suppose I am. The butterflies are definitely present when Hunter is around, and when he’s not, I miss him. Like a lot.

Maddy bursts out laughing, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “You’re so screwed.” I don’t bother arguing.

We exit the bathroom, discussing shoes and jewelry and all things white, but both come to a screeching halt when we see two skanks lingering around our table, nothing but trouble following them.

The busty blonde and perky brunette are very openly flirting with our men. Dixon yawns, looking more interested in the game on the TV, but Hunter, forever the ladies’ man, smirks at whatever Malibu Barbie just said.

My insecurity, which has laid semi-dormant, raises its sleepy head. Looking at the scenario, all I get in response is a half shrug and an I told you so. But I refuse to believe Hunter hasn’t changed. There is no way he’d touch this plastic bimbo with a ten-foot pole, but when she sits near him and he doesn’t stab her with his fork, I begin to doubt my certainty.

Maddy and I march over, thankfully she’s holding onto me because I’m contemplating ripping out the bimbo’s hair extensions one by one. “I’m pretty sure Alley Cat’s is that way,” I state, hooking my thumb over my shoulder toward the vicinity of the infamous strip club.

Barbie looks utterly offended. She’s lucky I didn’t greet her with a drink thrown in her face. “I’ll call you,” she has the balls to say to Hunter. Why does she have his number?

He opens his mouth to say god knows what, but I interject, because this just got personal. “Lose his number, sweetheart…if not, you’ll be losing your teeth.”

She narrows her eyes and rises, ready to no doubt give me a piece of her mind, but my threat isn’t empty. She has three seconds to leave, because this bitch will be going down. “Just stop right there,” I command, placing my hand out to stop her advances. The floor is mine and I intend to own it. “I already don’t give a fuck.”

Hunter’s hoarse laughter fills the air, while Maddy shoulders past the brunette, who topples over in her ridiculous heels. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” she sarcastically says. Dixon welcomes her into his arms, where she very possessively kisses the living shit out of him. What a way to mark her claim. The women get the hint and hobble off, both ego and ankles bruised.

Maddy and Dixon are making out like it’s 1999, while I place a hand on my cocked hip, glaring at Hunter something wicked. I don’t know if I want to kiss or kill him. A thought plays at the back of my mind. Did he just give her his number? Or if she already had it, how well does he know her, and by that, I mean how many times have they fucked?

The bile returns.

A million emotions run rampant, but for some stupid reason I focus on my fries, and the blob of mayonnaise sitting dead center. These weren’t here before I left, so I know the waitress brought them when we were in the bathroom and Hunter took the liberty of dousing my fries. I know it’s insignificant, but in a weird way, it placates my anger, because it’s the simple things which mean so much.

He did this without a thought, just how he has a hundred times before because he knows I like mayonnaise with my fries. He also tolerates me sleeping with socks even though it drives him crazy. Being in a relationship is about compromise. It’s also about trust— trusting that other person to not revert to his manwhore ways because you…are…enough.

And the way he’s looking at me—part humor, all possession, I feel like more than enough.

“Outside.”

Hunter doesn’t argue. He shoots upward, never breaking eye contact with me as we leave Maddy and Dixon to their very public PDA.

I’m a livewire, ready to electrocute anyone in my path. The cool air laps at my heated skin, but it doesn’t even touch the sides, because I’m currently on fire. “Shortcake…she’s someone I used to…know. Years ago.”

His pause infuriates me further and I continue marching down the street, unsure exactly where I’m headed. “I don’t even remember her name.”

So not helping.

Pushing past pedestrians, I breathe a sigh of relief when the herd thins, as I’m moments away from doing something which will surely get me arrested. I turn down a dingy alleyway, the ones your mom tells you stay away from when you’re a kid, but now, I embrace the darkness.

“Would you stop and talk to me!”

His desperation matches my fury—a lethal combination.

“Mary, for fuck’s sake, stop!” The second he makes contact with me, wrapping those long fingers around my wrist, a hunger overtakes me and I attack.

Spinning, I slam my chest to his, threading my fingers through the hair at his nape. He’s not wearing it in his usual manbun, so it’s free and wild and so fucking sexy. Jerking his head backward, I pin him with a feral stare. A gasp leaves his parted, pink lips—lips I want to fucking devour whole.

“Now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do?” It’s a challenge, one I’ll happily accept.

A moment of clarity is overshadowed by the fierce need to consume, demolish, and possess, and nothing else matters but this. Our lips collide, and it’s a flurry of hands as we tear at one another, ready to strip flesh from bone.

I dig my fingernails into his scalp, desperate to claw my way into him and never leave. His tongue circles mine as he tastes and samples my frenzy. This isn’t going to be gentle. A sense of ownership has tackled me from behind, and all I can think about is marking Hunter as mine.

“I want you inside of me,” I whisper against his lips, unfastening the top button of his jeans with haste.

“Here?” When I thrust my hand into his pants and am greeted with his blistering hard on, I grunt in response.

Wrapping my fingers around his heavy shaft, I begin to stroke him, eager to feel this beast inside. He jerks into my palm, sealing his mouth around mine as we kiss. It’s hard to believe he had a thing against kissing, because this is beyond words.

He bites my bottom lip before severing our mouths, and before I can question what he’s doing, he grips my upper arms and spins me, slamming me up against a brick wall. His strength is exactly what I need.

With desperate hands, he hikes up the hem of my dress, and without delay, rips my thong clean off. He palms my exposed cheeks, humming in utter delight. “I want to lick every part of you.” He runs his pointer along the pleat of my ass. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

I wiggle my behind and he groans.

“Don’t tempt me.”

He presses his chest to my back, reaching around my hip to pay attention to my needy clit. When he feels how slick I am, he hums in approval. Without a second to waste, he inserts two fingers into me, stretching me wide.

“Oh god…” My eyes droop to half-mast as I focus on this and nothing else.

He pumps in and out, circling my ripe center, which has me yelping in carnal need. “You’ll be the death of me.” My hips undulate, welcoming this tender intrusion with complete gratification.

He pinches at my clit before removing his fingers and slipping them into my mouth. I suckle at them, tasting myself on his fingers, an unexpected head rush. “See how good you taste.” His digits pop from my lips as he yanks them out, only for him to suck at them himself.

The imagery is enough to almost make me come.

He inserts his slick fingers back into me, always the gentleman to ensure I’m ready to take that monster cock inside. When he feels I’m more than ready, he rubs his scorching erection against my ass, kicking my feet out wide.

I’m seconds away from begging, when he suddenly retreats and curses. “Fuck, I don’t have any protection.” I almost sob. “It’s okay, Shortcake, let me take care of you.”

He makes his intentions clear when he tunnels his fingers in deeper, but they’re a poor substitute for what I want. Without any regrets, I still his movements and say, “I don’t care.”

“What? It’s okay to go bareback?” His surprise is clear, but we can think about the repercussions tomorrow, because now, I need him inside of me.

When I feel him hesitate, I reach behind me and grip his length. He hisses, but doesn’t resist as I arch into him, showcasing my intentions. Withdrawing his fingers, he presses his chest flat to my back and cages me with his brute strength. I splay my hands against the wall, bowing my back, offering myself to him.

He groans in approval before I feel his blunt, hot head nudge against my pussy. His silken cock feels amazing and I want so much more. “This is going to get messy.” I wonder if he too reads the double meaning behind his words.

“Good,” I counter. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

He runs his tongue along the length of my neck before wrapping an arm around my waist and driving me back onto his shaft. We both cry out, the feel of him, in the flesh, sliding against mine is just too holy for words. He stills, as if wanting to drag out this heightened sensation as long as he can.

Hunter has been inside of me countless times before, but there is something pure, almost seamless being fused together this way. There are no walls, no barriers between us, and a sudden heavy weight settles within my heart. “Don’t break me,” I whisper.

He knows of my past, of how my high school love broke me, but this is the first time I’ve expressed my fears aloud. This raw union has changed me forever.

“I promise,” he vows, accenting his oath as he begins to move.

Everything is intensified. Each stroke has me crying out and forgetting my own name. He starts slow, cussing each time he pulls out, before sinking all the way back in. Like always, our bodies move in sync, pushing and pulling, the perfect yin to yang.

We increase the speed, the cadence a hot, heavy melody, his cock piercing into me over and over again. The alleyway is filled with grunts and the slapping of flesh, and when Hunter pinches my gorged center, I scream.

He growls into my ear, fucking me senseless.

The bricks are coarse, and when Hunter realizes he’s slamming me up against them, he quickly curves his upper arm so I’m able to use the muscled surface as a makeshift pillow. I rest my cheek on his forearm, the kind gesture involuntarily bringing tears to my eyes.

“You feel fucking incredible.” His breathy admission has me mewling and racing closer toward the edge. “This is unlike anything.”

He’s steering my hips, ensuring I take every hard inch of him, so when he drives me backward and buries himself so deeply within, I have no other choice but to chase my looming release. I ride his cock, just how I know he likes me to, bucking into him until our bodies are a frantic blur.

When he hits my g-spot, I literally see stars and come fiercely with a thunderous sob. He milks every tremor, playing with my clit until I’m thrashing about, certain I’m going to die. Once I’m spent, he pulls out with a grunt, before I feel a silky warmth coat the small of my back and ass.

His primitive growls excite me once again and I turn over my shoulder to watch him spill his seed. The sight is glorious, his long, hard cock standing tall and proud. His eyes are squeezed shut, the corded veins in his neck bursting as he cries out in utter ecstasy. Once he’s done, he sags against me, kissing my neck, my ear, any place where his lips can find flesh.

We stay embraced this way, until with one final kiss against my throat, he pulls away. He holds me in place, surprising me as he rips off his t-shirt to wipe me clean. “That’s not necessary,” I hoarsely say. “I was prewarned. Now you’ve gone and ruined your t-shirt.”

Once I’m clean, he tosses his now soiled shirt into the trash. “So worth it.”

Turning sluggishly, my jelly legs barely hold me up when Hunter stands before me, topless, slowly rearranging himself into his pants. He leaves the top button of his jeans undone, the soft curls painting his belly button highlight his rock-hard abs and mouth-watering V.

He scratches over his ripped flank, as if deep in thought. I’m about to ask what’s up, but he beats me to the chase. “I was going to give this to you before…” When he reaches into his pocket and produces a silver key, I stop breathing. “With me being away, it’ll be difficult for you to finish your project, so um…here is a key to my apartment.”

He extends it, and I stare at the dangling piece of metal, blinking back my tears. This is big, like really big. It’s also a sign that he trusts me, just how I do him. No matter my fears of him hurting me, or him being too good to be true, I have to roll with the punches and accept this man as being nothing short of perfect.

Accepting his offering, I twirl the simple object in my hand. But it means so much.

“I want it back when I come home though,” he teases, drawing me into his arms and kissing the tip of my nose.

“I think I’m going to miss you,” I fearlessly declare. It feels good.

His surprise is clear, because this candidness is something new for us. We’re both usually guarded, but tonight, something has changed. “What do you know?” he finally says with that lopsided smirk. “I think I’m going to miss you too.”

Could it be Hunter has not only given me the key to his apartment, but to his heart as well? A girl can only hope.