His tongue darts out and swipes along my lower lip, he nibbles, and my breath catches and I open for him. With no protest, his tongue slides in and he takes what he wants. I lean into him and pull the cotton of his shirt so he comes closer. I wasn’t expecting his hand to come around and squeeze my ass but I rather enjoy it.
His hands work their way up my sides, a gentle touch on my breast and then up my back into my hair. The kiss becomes more passionate. I should slow this down, it’s for show and we aren’t showing anyone here. But god, he tastes so good and he can kiss. I feel his hand tighten around some hair and he yanks separating us.
I can’t deny my insides are on fire, a kiss has never made me feel this way. My fingers touch my swollen lips. “I’m tired of playing games. Get ready for dinner, see you down here in an hour,” he lets go and walks away. My mind runs wild. Well played Hunter, I remind myself not to enjoy these little moments. They aren’t real. It’s an assignment.
My phone pings and it’s Mark. Jessie will be by later tonight around nine to see what I need. I head upstairs and stop by Hunter’s room and knock. The door swings open and his chest is bare. My eyes roam and find the button on his jeans undone. The muscles defined in the alluring V and his feet are bare as well, it’s sexy as sin. “Whatever you decide is fine, but we have to be back here by nine. How should I dress?”
He flexes his pecs, “casual.” His hand reaches out and he slides a finger down into my cleavage. I inhale deep and quick. Then he withdraws just as fast. With a wink he closes the door. I release the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. Game on Hunter.
Chapter Four
HUNTER
My finger still tingles from the gentle touch of her bare skin. When her warm breath and seductive voice caressed my ear, my thoughts ran straight to the bedroom. Satin lace, handcuffs and my hand print on her ass.
When she said go with it, I figured what the hell, how can a little taste hurt. She opened and our tongues danced. Man, was I wrong, a taste could cripple a man. The urge to have this woman is insatiable. To her this is a job. Nothing more. Shit, I didn’t even want her here. But now that I’ve met her and tasted her. I need to know what it’s like to have her legs wrapped around me and my cock buried deep inside.
I lift my shirt off the bed and inhale her vanilla scent. Fuck, nothing a cold shower can’t take care of. This is not going to be easy. She’s here to protect me, but who’s going to protect her? I discard my pants and walk into the bathroom. The steam from the shower starts to fill the room and I step into the spray. With my head tilted back I allow my eyes to close and the spray pounds against my skin.
The images have me hard as steel. Her thighs straddle my bike. Her tight ass up in the air, chest down on the hood of my car. Those beautiful brown eyes, the undeniable cleavage and a mouth I can devour. I stroke my cock in a long and steady rhythm.
Oh Danica, what I can do to you. The image of her swollen lips around my throbbing cock, her jaw goes lax and takes it to the back of her throat. Oh, fuck...just like that.
A knock at the door has my eyes springing open, “Yeah, what is it?” my voice strains as I continue to stroke. The door opens, oh god yes. Come finish me off.
“You said casual?” she asks. Her voice has me teetering on the edge. I pump faster. I’m going to come, oh fuck.
I holler out “Yes!” as I think about her lips on mine. She closes the door and I let my thoughts run free, her cuffed and begging me for more, is enough to send me over the edge. Hot come erupts against the far wall and drips down the tile. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she’s got me so wound up, I still need more. I lean against the cool tile on the back wall breathless and unsatisfied.
DANICA
Okay, so I’m going out to dinner with a movie star and I’m supposed to dress casual. What would he consider casual? I look to see what options I have. Black jeans, because you know black goes with anything and then I go into the closet. My shirts and blouses all hang in a row.
The weather app says it will be mid-seventies tonight so I choose a black lace surplice top. It’s has a T-back and a built-in bra, the front crosses over in a layer, holding the girls in place.
Since it’s dinner and I have to act the part, I slide my feet into my stilettos. I check myself in the mirror and if I do say so myself, I clean up pretty good. My hands run through my long brown hair and then I finish the look off with black eyeliner and mascara. When I reach to close my makeup bag the fire-engine red lipstick stares back at me. Hmm… Why not?
When I’m ready, I step from my room and bump into Hunter, damn it. His hands grip my waist and his eyes settle on the exposed skin of my chest. My pulse quickens as I watch him appreciate my curves.
When his eyes land on my coated lips, I lick and draw the bottom one in with my teeth. He sucks in a breath and his eyes flick to mine. I smirk knowing damn well I found his Achilles heel.
“Are you ready for dinner?” I raise my left eyebrow; his hands drop from my hips and I miss the contact already.
He clears his throat and gestures down the hall. He look’s good in dark blue jeans, a t-shirt and a thin black leather jacket. I grab my badge off the table and slide it into my back pocket. Then my gun slides into my back holster under my blouse.
“Do you bring it with you everywhere?” Hunter asks and I smile, “it would be a rookie mistake not too.” I pull the cuffs and chuck them over to him. He catches them with surprise. “You can hold onto them.”
His smile broadens and he tosses them back. “I have my own, but thanks,” he says and the thought of him cuffed, and me in charge sets my libido on fire. Touché.
Chapter Five
We walk into the garage and he straddles the Harley. I look down to my shoes, “Maybe next time.” I push the button on the side wall and the garage door opens. Hunter steps up next to me and I toss him my keys. When we reach the side of the townhouse, my baby comes into view.
“No fucking way,” he says and picks up his pace. “This yours?” I can’t help but smile as he admires my prize possession. A charcoal grey 1967 Ford Mustang with black raven stripes down the middle. Mint fucking kick ass condition.
“What’s it got the baby six cylinder? It’s automatic too, right?” His snobby remark stops me dead in my tracks. With attitude I cock my hip out. “Fuck, no. Don’t insult me.” Hunter looks over surprised.
“My baby has a V-8. With a three-twenty horsepower and four speed manual transmission with dual exhaust.” He shakes his head. Yeah I know my shit. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Just because I have tit’s doesn’t mean I’m not knowledgeable of all things.