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I nod, acknowledging Hunter’s statement.
I know he’s telling the truth. That he would keep us separate from work and Griffin, but my concerns aren’t only about my brother.
Hunter is starting to overwhelm my thoughts, my dreams, my very being. I’m already teetering on the edge of something dangerous—giving him my heart.
I’m not prepared for that.
Keeping limits on our relationship was the plan. What’s the point of a plan if you’re going to throw it out the window and fly by the seat of your pants? It would be like disregarding the wedding day run sheet and asking the wedding guests what they’d like to do next.
Raise your hand if you’d like us to cut the cake now.
That would be complete chaos.
I’m not sure how to navigate the feelings I’m having for him, but it’s impossible to walk away. I don’t want to put an end to what we’re doing, but I’m desperate to steer us back on course. To buy myself some time to figure out what I want.
So, I focus on the reason we started this secret relationship and let my body take over.
I press my lips against the warm skin of his back while my arms encircle his waist, and my fingers tease where his towel is fastened. “How can I make it up to you?”
He turns slowly. Beneath his towel, I can make out the impression of his thick cock. I lick my lips and lower to kneel in front of him. My hands reach up to part his towel.
Hunter reaches for my wrists.
“Sophie, stop.” His words are commanding, but gentle.
“Why?” My heart drops out of my chest.
“Because you’re not sucking my dick as an apology.”
“What if I want to suck your dick because I like it?” I ask.
He groans and I see the thick bulge beneath his towel jerk in response. But he reaches for me instead, holding me close to him. It isn’t a sexy embrace, it’s gentle and soothing. Like the way he carried me to the hotel room at The Plaza Hotel a few weekends ago.
As I let his strong arms hold me close, my eyes catch on the towel bar across the room. Hunter’s clothes from earlier, wet from the lake, slung over the bar to dry. Seeing his clothes dripping water into a puddle on his bathroom floor snaps something inside me.
I pushed him into the lake. What the hell is wrong with me? Now, I’m trying to suck his dick to apologize. And he’s holding me tight, like he doesn’t think I’m a lunatic. I squeeze my eyes shut and the tears begin to fall.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t—I can’t…” As the tears fall, my chest tightens, making it difficult to breathe and to speak.
“Hey, no. Baby, please don’t cry.” Hunter holds my head in his hands, his thumbs swipe across my cheeks as the tears attempt to cut a path down my face. Then he wraps his arms around me, holding me to his chest.
“Are y-you m-m-mad at me?” I know I sound ridiculous, but I can’t help it. My emotions are all over the place. I feel like an idiot crying in front of him. He wants fun, sexy Sophie. That’s what he signed up for. Not some immature crybaby who can’t get ahold of herself.
He presses his lips to the top of my head, a deep sigh escaping before he answers. “No, I’m not mad.”
For some reason that makes me cry harder, and now I’m a snotty, tear-streaked mess. Hunter lifts me up and carries me to his bed. He unbuttons my skort dress and helps me slip out of it, pulls back the covers and sets me underneath. He leaves, but comes back with boxer briefs on and slips under the covers with me, scooping me into his arms.
He strokes my hair and rubs comforting circles across my back.
Crying feels good, and after a few minutes, my hiccups stop and my breathing starts to even out.
Hunter grabs a tissue off the bedside table and holds it to my nose so I can blow. I can only imagine what I look like. Red, puffy, with makeup sliding down my face.
I pull back, wiping at his chest where I’ve left tears and mascara.
“I’m sorry. This is not how you wanted the day to end.”
“Don’t be sorry. Sometimes, you need to let it all out.”
