Page 29 of Don't Puck Him


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“Good morning, gorgeous.”

His hand takes mine and pulls me in close. I can feel those muscles tightening under me. His mouth is so close. My heart is hammering in my chest.

Our lips meet, fire mixed with gasoline. My breath hitches in my throat as he slides his tongue into mouth. A groan comes out of me that sounds primal.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters between the kisses.

People pass by us making out in broad daylight, my breasts feeling perky and taut against his chest. He runs his hands down my back, wedging two fingers between my shoulders and my neck. It isn’t painful, but it’s surely firm.

“I wanted to tell you that you do make me feel safe,” I mutter, pulling away briefly. “And because you do, I want to share something with you.”

Hunter’s eyes light up like a stormy sky, an intrigue mixed with some anxiety. He traces a hand down the back of my shirt, and in a smooth swagger of a gesture, uncaps my bra.

The top I’m wearing manages to keep the cups still, but the straps slide down and settle on the top of my cleavage. I clap my hands over my breast, mouth agape.

“Hunter!” I scold, with something tingly beginning to stir between my legs.

He chuckles, then kisses me again. It is deep, and the brief offense melts away quickly and easily.

It is clear to see that a lot of what Hunter does is tactical. He is older than me and has certainly been with a good few women. He doesn’t like to be out of control, ever, and I saw it, as clear as a neon buzzing sign in the dead of night.

He took the reins by unclasping my bra, and despite the fact that the boldness turned me on, I know there was a reason for it. He stands over me, holding a hand out. I saw a flash of his vulnerability, and he didn’t like it.

I take his hand, and he pulls me up. I keep one hand over my breasts to keep the bra from sliding down my shirt as he leads me out of campus and back to his apartment. I know now that there is no turning back. Once I get inside and in the dark with him, whatever we have going on is only going to spark wild and will surely burn the both of us.

We walk in silence, until we reach his door. He keeps his gray lively eyes on me, despite likely being able to see my nipples.

“Still have something to show me?”

I smirk, taking my hand from his and placing them over my breasts. His smile disappears when I begin to massage them.

“Of course I do, Hunter,” I whisper. “The question is, is it something you’re worthy of seeing?”

He pushes the door open without breaking eye contact. We pause, the tension thick, thrilling, surreal, as we stare at each other. Then, still without looking away, he speaks.

“After you.”

My heart is going to punch through my chest at any second. I walk past him, my hands still over my chest, then move down the hallway. I can feel him behind me, almost stalking, and my mind begins to flutter with the dirtiest of fantasies my mind could suffice. Him, pushing me up against the wall, taking me from behind, pinning me at the wrists and fucking me until I see God.

As we walk inside, I feel my panties dampening. I hold my hands taut to my breasts so he won't see them shaking.

I pause only a few steps inside and turn to face him. My expression is searching.

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Where did this confident girl go?”

I snap at him. I know he likes that he can provoke it out of me. And I kind of like it, too.

“She’s here. She never left. Now let’s keep walking.”

He says nothing and follows me with sparkling eyes as I enter his space.

When he closes the door behind him and locks it, I know that this is it. I spin around and yank my bra off from underneath my shirt. It is one of my better, more alluring ones. Crimson satin with black delicate lace. Hunter barely gazes at it as I drop it to the floor.

“Show me,” he says.

“Wait,” I say firmly. “First we have to establish some ground rules.”

“I’m listening.”

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