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“That was quick,” she remarked.
“But I’ll go nice and slow.” He pressed his lips against her warm neck. Heat spread through him. Grasping her skirt, he inched it over her bare legs to expose the thin scrap of cotton that she called underwear. “You might as well be wearing nothing under here.”
“Maybe next time I won’t.” Though her tone was flip, her eyes darkened with arousal.
Though his own lust intensified, Hunter took his time stroking her bare thighs, edging his fingers under the elastic of her panties, and breathing her in.
He loved her scent, the warm smoothness of her skin, the sound of her breath catching in the back of her throat. He loved the silky glide of her hair, the way she opened herself without hesitation to his exploring fingers, the little trembles that made her body quiver. He loved—
Hunter blocked the direction of that thought. He went down on his knees, pulling her underwear off at the same time. Edging his hands between her legs, he opened her wider and leaned forward to pleasure her with both his mouth and his fingers.
Aria gasped and clutched the edge of the counter. “Oh my god,Hunter…”
He steadied her with one hand and worked her harder, feeling her body tense with readiness. When she came, his name escaping on another cry, one word burst into his head.
Mine.
Whatever happened, however it happened, he knew one thing for certain. She was his.
He rose to unfasten his jeans and took her up against the counter—slow and easy at first, like he’d promised. But the sight of her in the mirror, all flushed skin and desire-dark eyes, was too much to take.
Clamping his hands around her waist, he quickened his pace. He’d never get enough of her. He thrust into her until she shattered again, convulsing around him so tightly that his own urgency snapped, the explosion so powerful he felt it to his bones.
Chest heaving, he picked Aria up and carried her into the bedroom. He spread her out on the bed and stripped off her clothes, then did what he’d been aching to do since the night he first pictured her naked. He kissed her everywhere—starting with her lips and moving down to her collarbones, her shoulders, her breasts. He trailed his mouth across her belly, dipped his tongue into her navel, pressed kisses over her thighs and all the way down to her toes.
She squirmed, giggled, and breathed his name. And when he worked his way up her body to her lips again, she opened her arms as if to welcome him back.
As if to welcome him home.
He couldn’t get enough of her. When he finally rolled away from her, every cell in his body wrung out, he pulled the flowered comforter over her and tugged her against him. She murmured in contentment, nestling against his side.
Though the inn’s floral décor was over-the-top, he liked how Aria looked all snuggled against the rose-patterned sheets, her hair spilling like silk over the pillows. Like a little fairy in a flower garden.
An image of his Manhattan apartment appeared. Black leather and metal. Gray walls. Industrial appliances. Spare and austere.
Discomfort tightened his chest. He rubbed his hand down her smooth back.
He’d make this work. He had no choice. He wanted to be CEO of Imperial Properties, but he was starting to want Aria to keep her café even more.
Unfortunately, his quitting the job or leaving the company made it even less likely that she would keep Meow and Then. If Hunter left, Bruce would just put someone else—probably Juliette—in charge of Oceanview. And Juliette had no sympathy for Aria or her cats or anything else about Mariposa Street.
Hunter also still believed what he’d told Aria. Mariposa had been a drain on the town’s economy for years. It was a prime piece of land that could be used to actually help rather than hurt Bliss Cove. Even if he did manage to kill the Oceanview project—which was unlikely—Mariposa, and by extension, the whole town, would still suffer.
No. He needed another plan.
He stayed awake long into the night as Aria slept soundly with her cheek pressed to his chest and her arm loose around his waist.
When sunlight filtered into the room, his phone buzzed with a text. Shifting away from Aria, he reached for his phone. She mumbled in her sleep and rolled over to hug a pillow.
Hunter pulled up the text from Bruce Sinclair. Cold slithered down his spine.
Mandatory NY meeting this week. Margaret will book your flight.
