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“Yes, Hunter?”
I’m toying with him but now isn’t the time. His cock throbs against my cheek as he fists my hair.
“You’re killing me, baby.” He gently lowers my head, not giving me a choice to do exactly what I was teasing. My mouth swallows him whole until he hits the back of my throat. “Oh, Christ.”
Hearing the satisfaction in his voice is more than enough to encourage me to keep going—not that I had any intention of stopping. I love pleasing him almost as much as I love being with him. And the reciprocation? It’s off the charts.
As we drive down the road, my head bobs up and down, mouth and tongue stroking his cock. Every groan, every word he utters is a complete turn-on. I can feel my panties soak from the sound, and I can’t wait to see what he’ll have in store for me later. I suck him hard and deep, taking satisfaction in the sounds and words it elicits—another throb, an involuntary buck of his hips, the words, “Fuck, baby, I’m close,” falling from his lips. A few more moments and I can taste him as the remnants of his orgasm fill my mouth.
That’s when I hear it—sirens.
“Oh, shit.”
“Stay down,” he tells me.
“What?”
“Put it away, then pretend like you’re sleeping,” he instructs me as he pulls off to the side of the road.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Do it, Quinn.”
I do as he asks because the last thing I ever want is to be a source of contention. It’s what initially drove me away from him to begin with—the fear of past mistakes haunting him. Now, it would be us—something we did—that could destroy him. And I would know it was all my fault because, let’s face it, no way in hell would Hunter have done this stuff before.
“Hello, Officer,” Hunter says after he rolls down the window.
“Hunter Adams?” the cop exclaims.
Hunter shushes the officer. “My girlfriend’s sleeping. She’s not feeling well.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Hunter Adams just lied to a cop. For me. Because of me.
“Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?”
“Thanks, no. Just trying to get her home so she can rest.”
“Just be careful. You were weaving a bit back there.”
I stifle the giggle that threatens.
“Sorry about that. I almost spilled my coffee.”
They chat a moment longer, and when the cop leaves, Hunter lets out a sigh of relief.
“See, being the good guy pays off.”
“You just got road head and lied to a police officer,” I say, still curled up in my seat. Only now, I’m smiling at the man I love. “I’m starting to think the whole nice guy routine was just a ruse.”
“You keep doing what you just did, and it might be a thing of the past.”
CHAPTER8
HUNTER
Quinn Ford—trouble with a capital T.
Thank God for her and her wild ways. Not only was the blow job outstanding, but it also bought Ashton the time he asked for.
