I grin as he begins to expertly tug off my clothes. “If you’re trying to warm me up, you should be putting more clothes on me.”

“Nah, I should be putting me on you.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges me toward his bed. Then he lifts the corner of the comforter and we crawl underneath it, our naked bodies tangled together.

He slips one hand between my legs, probing, stroking gently. “How are you already so fucking wet?”

“That’s what happens when you’re around,” I mumble, and then my fingers find his dick. Big, thick, so warm.

Except he robs me of enjoyment, shoving my hand away with an outraged shout. “Oh my fucking God, Demi! Never touch my dick again.”

I let out a howl of laughter. “Hands are too cold?”

“Too cold is an understatement. Nope. Nope nope nope nope. You’re not allowed to touch me tonight.” Hunter pushes me onto my back, locks both my wrists with his left hand, and thrusts my arms over my head. “Don’t move,” he warns.

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t fuck you.”

I pout. “That’s mean.”

“No, what’s mean was that war crime you just committed against my penis.”

Gales of laughter shake my body. I love this guy. We have so much fun together, no matter the circumstances. We could be studying or sitting in a jail cell or lying naked in bed, and he’d never fail to crack me up.

His grip tightens on my wrists. “I’m warning you…”

“Oh fine. Go ahead and do your thing.”

Grinning, he lowers his head to kiss me, and I let him seduce me with his mouth, his tongue, his calloused fingertips. Eventually he releases me, but I keep my hands over my head, letting him have his way with me. His mouth is warm, wet, as it closes around my nipple. He sucks gently, swirls his tongue around that aching tip, and my hips move restlessly, seeking relief.

Hunter reaches between us, his knuckles grazing my clit before one long finger slides inside me. “Aw, fuck,” he groans. His hot mouth stays latched onto my breast as he starts fingering me. “Jesus motherfucking Christ, babe, I need to be inside you.” He’s grinding shamelessly against my bare leg, his dick leaving stripes of precome on my flesh.

I grumble impatiently when he leaves the bed to get a condom. “You should have done that first!” I scold.

He responds cheerfully. “Please don’t lecture me when I’m about to give you an orgasm.”

“Who says you’re going to give me an orgasm?”

He grips his dick and wags it at me. “This guy.”

Another laugh shudders through me, but it transforms into a throaty moan when Hunter climbs on top of me and enters my pussy in one smooth glide. He fills me completely, my body stretching to accommodate him, and I stroke the sinewy muscles of his back as he fucks me in slow, sweet strokes.

“I love you so much,” I whisper.

“Love you too.” His hips retreat, then flex forward in a deep thrust that makes me see stars.

Pleasure forms a tight knot in my core and then slowly unravels, ribbons of heat traveling through my body. I’m not cold anymore. I’m on fire. Hunter’s body is a furnace. His tongue is hot and eager. His dick elicits the most incredible sensations inside, stoking my arousal.

When the orgasm reaches the surface, I cry out and cling to him. He swallows my moans with greedy, desperate kisses, and then grunts huskily as he gives in to his own release.

“I’m never gonna get tired of this,” he croaks. He rolls us over so that I’m lying on his warm chest.

“Good thing you never have to,” I tease, still shivering from the aftershocks of release.

His strong arms wrap securely around me. “Oh really. So what are you saying? We’re going to be together forever?”

Smiling, I peer down at his gorgeous face. Then I brush a light kiss over his lips. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Epilogue

Demi

It’s eleven p.m. on Sunday and we’re on Hunter’s couch watching my favorite show. Tonight’s episode: Magicians Who Kill. Summer is fast asleep on the other end of the couch from us. Brenna’s curled up in one armchair, watching the screen in fascination, while Fitz takes up residence in the other armchair, still on the fence about the episode. We’re only ten minutes in and he’s already said the words “this is fucked up” half a dozen times.

“Swear to God, if her severed head appears in his magician’s hat, I’m getting up and leaving,” Fitz warns.

Hunter leans forward when his phone buzzes on the coffee table. “Hey, it’s Hollis.”

“Answer it,” Brenna orders. “Find out when they’re coming home.”

“But it’s a FaceTime call,” Hunter complains.

“So? What, you need to touch up your makeup?” she mocks.

I giggle.

“Whatever.” He presses a button, and a moment later an explosion of noise rocks the living room.

“AHHHHHHHH! YOU GUYS!”

Summer shoots up into a sitting position, wide awake in a heartbeat. “What the fuck? What’s wrong?” she demands, rubbing her eyes in alarm.

“Guys! Can you hear us?!” It’s Rupi, shrill and worried. “Mike! I don’t know if they can hear us!”

“They can hear us, babe!”

“We can hear you!” Hunter says in exasperation. “What the hell? Where are you? Why is it so bright?”

I peer at his phone, but I can’t figure out where they are either. It’s daylight, that’s for sure. What time zone are they in?

Brenna hops up and settles on the arm of the sofa to get a better look, while Summer peeks over my shoulder. Fitz doesn’t leave his chair, although I can tell his interest is focused solidly on the conversation.

“We’re in Nepal,” Hollis reveals.

We all freeze.

“What do you mean, you’re in Nepal?” Brenna demands.

“I mean we’re in Nepal. Dude, we’re staying in the coolest place ever! It’s like on top of a mountain and there’s a Buddhist monastery right there, and, oh, Davenport! There’s actual monks here, and these dudes don’t have sex at all! A lot of them took a vow of silence, so I can’t really get any deets for you, but—”

“Hollis,” Summer interrupts. “Why are you guys in Nepal?”

Rupi re-enters the frame, her perfect white teeth sparkling in the sunshine of the Nepalese mountains, or wherever the heck they are.

“We’re on our honeymoon!” she shrieks.

Summer gasps. The rest of us gawk at the phone.

“Is this a joke?” Brenna asks, her dark eyes narrowing.

“Nope!” Hollis replies. His and Rupi’s faces fill up the whole screen, and I can’t deny I’ve never seen two people look happier. “We got married on Friday! I’m sorry, I know you guys would’ve wanted to come. And Fitz—I know, I know, you’ve always dreamed of being my best man—”

“Always,” Fitz says dryly.

“I’m sorry, man, I’ll make it up to you. We’re having a real wedding this summer. It’s in India, and you’re all invited.”