His demands cause my body to react instantly. Without another word, I pretend there are no rules between us, no lines, and I lay in the middle of his bed, fully clothed.
Resting my head back, I spread my legs and slowly slide my hand over my lace panties. They’re soaked, causing me to gasp at the slightest touch.
Hunter stands at the end of the bed, watching me with a strained expression. I close my eyes, listening to my body. My hand lingers between my legs until, out of frustration and impatience, I refuse to drag this out, desperate to come.
Pushing my panties aside, I thrust two fingers inside, arching my back as a moan escapes me. When I pull them out, they glide so effortlessly against my clit. I slowly get the rhythm right, knowing I won’t last long.
The bed suddenly moves, and Hunter is lying beside me. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh, but he makes sure to keep a certain distance with his lips.
“Is this how you played with yourself when you thought about me last week?”
“Yes,” I croak, barely able to speak.
“Good girl,” he whispers. “Make yourself come for me again.”
I move my fingers faster as the sensation builds, and my skin tingles in delight. When the flutter builds in my belly, I let out a loud moan as every inch of me explodes into a euphoric finish.
Unable to catch my breath, I continue to lie here with my eyes closed, but then he reaches out to grab my hand.
My eyes open to watch him place my wet fingers inside his mouth. Instantly, the ache returns, just as a smirk spreads across his face.
“Perfect …” he hums, gazing into my eyes. “Just like I imagined.”
NINETEEN
The walk of shame, better described as the car ride of shame, was some Uber driver who spent the entire drive arguing with his friend via Bluetooth.
Hunter made it clear he didn’t want to attend the charity event with Kathy, given he was an hour late, and his phone kept blowing up while I was lying in his bed, bringing myself to orgasm.
I didn’t ask any questions, despite the curiosity eating me alive.
When he complained about having to leave, I used it as the perfect excuse to leave too. Unlike the other night, I ordered the Uber before he could stop me, though he quickly questioned me on where I was going. It was easy to see he battled with having to attend the event versus driving me home.
Frankly, I was spent, desperate to get home.
Barely able to move my limbs, I change into my pj’s and climb into bed yawning from the exhaustion of tonight. Just as my eyes begin to fall, April comes barreling into my room.
“Um, hello, Grandma,” she greets in a sarcastic tone. “You do not look like someone who got laid.”
My cheeks flush, so I hide part of my face beneath the sheet.
“I told you I wouldn’t. I wasn’t feeling well tonight, so decided to come back home.”
I hate lying to April, already feeling the guilt of what I’ve done. If this feeling doesn’t stop me from making any more bad decisions, I don’t know what will.
“I almost wish I went with you just to get out,” she complains, throwing herself next to me on the bed. “Mom lost her shit when Hunter didn’t answer the phone.”
“Oh.” I swallow, forcing a concerned expression. “He didn’t show up?”
“Yeah, he showed up over an hour late. I don’t know what happened. I’ve never seen Mom so angry.”
“They have, um, a weird marriage.” The moment I say it, I quickly rush, “I mean, just different, I guess, to my parents.”
“Like they’re not madly in love with each other,” April claims, then cocks her head. “I hope he treats you right in the office. He told me about how you’ll report to him for some tasks.”
“Yeah, nothing major,” I lie again. “How often do you talk to him?”
April shrugs. “I dunno, just when I see him around and stuff. He’s been home a lot lately. I’m surprised you haven’t run into him.”