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“Oh, Hunter, Hunter, I…” So much I wanted to say, and I couldn’t say it, the words lost in the heat between my legs, the beating of my heart. I pressed up against him instead, whimpering as he nipped at my thigh, nuzzled and then sucked hard enough to leave a hickey. I gasped. “Oh, oh, oh…”
“Tell me what you want.” His voice was low, harsh with desire. It made me dizzy, made me bold. “Say it.”
His touch was making my whole world spin, there was only the feel of his skin, the touch of his fingers and lips and the way I opened up to them, only the soft wet sounds of our bodies coming together…
“You,” I managed. “You, always you, only ever you…”
He pulled back and flipped me onto my stomach, the cool fabric exquisite agony against my stimulated nipp**les. He spread my legs, one hand holding me open as the other slid up to cup my bre**ast.
“You ready to take my co**ck?” he growled against the back of my neck.
I nodded, and then he was inside me.
He thrust into me hard, and I shrieked, the feelings all the more intense for not being able to see him, for having to trust him, for being completely at his mercy as his strong hands held me hostage and his long hard co**ck slammed into my pus**sy, again and again, filling me up, stretching me, lighting up my nerve endings and electrifying my veins.
With a moan I pushed my as**s up against him, wanting him deeper still, and the hand on my hip stole around to stroke my wet pus**sy, his long fingers tweaking my cl**it as I clenched around his co**ck. As he rocked into me I let go of everything bad I felt inside, everything that had been hurting me or dragging me down for years. Grinding into his hand, feeling the steady beat of his co**ck, hearing his gasps of pleasure behind me, the ecstasy pushed me higher and higher, until I found myself falling over the edge.
We came at the same time, moans wrenching through us, calling out to each other. Finally we collapsed boneless onto the bed, Hunter’s weight like a comforting blanket settling over my body as he tucked me back against him. I reached up behind me to stroke his hair, the smooth skin of his powerful shoulders.
He pressed a soft kiss to my neck, just below my ear.
I had never felt so much a part of another person, so connected and together, so warm. I never wanted to leave the safety of his arms.
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Hunter said, his words barely more than warm puffs of air against my skin. He squeezed me tight. “You make me strong.”
I twisted around just enough to press my lips to his jaw. “You make me strong here.” I found his hand, interlaced my fingers with his. “I’m glad we’re in this together.”
ELEVEN
The expo was a whirlwind of activity, people embracing and shaking hands as they bustled between tables and booths overflowing with samples of products, jingles, and packaging. The roar of conversation dipped and fell like the waves of an ocean, and the sea of people before us seemed about to swallow us whole.
Hunter took my hand as we stood off to the side, ran his fingers over my knuckles. He bent to murmur in my ear: “You nervous? Or excited?”
I chuckled. “Both, honestly!”
He nodded. “Tell me about it.”
Unfortunately, we couldn’t spend the whole day joined at the hip. We had to let go of each other—well, of each other’s hands, anyway, and head out to mingle. We were both locked and loaded with flyers and an elevator pitch for our bourbon beer booth.
“We got this,” I told Hunter.
He grinned. “I know we do, babe.”
And we headed out together to conquer the expo.
#
An hour later, flushed and exhilarated, we began to make our way back to the booth to pick up more flyers. We’d been picked clean by eager expo-goers who were intrigued both by the new beverage and the fact that Hunter Knox was in the saddle again. Our pockets were bulging with the business cards from potential investors and distributors, and I’d already scheduled interviews for Hunter with three different journalists who’d expressed interest in writing articles about the company.
And then, like a zit on the face of a supermodel, Chuck appeared on the floor of the expo, strolling through the crowd as if he owned them all, flanked by two serious-looking older men in blue European-cut suits and two women in tailored pastel dresses.
“Ah, if it isn’t Hunter Knox and sweet little Ally Bartlett,” he greeted us, oozing insincere charm. “How nice to see you here. Holding up nicely? Not burned though all the charity yet?” He laughed like a hyena.
“We’re fine, thank you,” I said through gritted teeth.
“So glad we were able to work out a deal,” he said with a malicious smile. “But oh! I’m being rude! I haven’t introduced my companions.” A sweeping gesture indicated the well-dressed men and women behind him. “Still, I’m sure you recognize the Big Four. Don’t you, Hunter?”
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