“Looks good.”
“Hunter.” She spun to face me, eyes narrowed. “Are you even paying attention?”
I was paying attention, all right. My dick was paying attention to the way her shirt strained over her breasts. To those luscious pink lips that begged me to fuck them. To her fitted skirt and the curves I was now intimately familiar with.
“Of course I am,” I said.
She cocked her head to the side, placing a hand on her hip. “So…the fabric?”
“I love it.”
“Which one?” She turned back to the options.
I stepped closer, peering over her shoulder. I reached around her, my arm brushing against her, my lips against her ear, as I said, “This one.”
Her sharp intake of breath told me I’d struck a chord. “That’s my favorite too.”
Even though it was my top pick, I’d mostly said it because I knew she liked it. I’d found that when it came to decorating my house—I wanted her to have everything she wanted. Which was ridiculous, really. She didn’t live here, but I liked knowing that she was all around me—in the design, in the details.
I didn’t want to contemplate what it might be like when we moved on from our no-strings relationship. I’d be alone in this huge house, surrounded by memories of her.
I shook away those thoughts and forced myself to focus on the present. I grazed my lips along her ear, noticing how she curled away, yet her body leaned into me.
“Hunter…” I sensed hesitation, resistance, but also desire.
She wanted me, but she was fighting it. Even after what had happened at the wedding. Even after the things she’d shared and the sex we’d had…she continued to fight this.
She’d learn.
As promised, I’d have her begging for more.
I slid my hand beneath her shirt, loving the feel of her warm skin against mine. She tensed briefly before tilting her head back against my chest. And I took that as an invitation to explore.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I rasped. “I can’t stop thinking about the things I want to do to you,” I tacked on, more in an effort to preempt any freak-out on her part.
“Always talking,” she murmured.
“All right,” I said, spinning her around and throwing her over my shoulder. “That’s it.”
She kicked the air, her fists beating playfully on my back. “Hey! Put me down.”
I didn’t say anything. I was done talking.
I carried her up the stairs to my bedroom and dropped her on the bed. The custom shades had yet to arrive, so my windows were bare. Apart from a bedside lamp and the light from the skyline, the room was relatively dark.
“Strip.”
She propped herself up on her elbows. Her cheeks were pink, her hair mussed from being carried upside down. “Excuse me?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You heard me.”
She stared back at me, unmoving, unyielding. I wondered who would be the first to break, but I sensed she liked giving over control. Despite her resistance, I had a feeling she craved it.
“You first.” She quirked an eyebrow, challenging. Always challenging.
I debated a moment before unbuttoning my shirt and casting it aside. Sometimes you had to give a little to get a little. “Your turn.”
She sat up on her knees, balancing on the bed as she unfastened the buttons of her shirt before slowly removing it. Her bra was a deep blue color that looked fantastic against her skin.
