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There it was: her drunken offer to do all the wrong I wanted. She’d forgive me tomorrow, but I couldn’t forgive myself. I couldn’t lead her down the path of hope when there was none.
“Hunter? Are you going to join me?”
She tilted her hip to the side and beckoned me with her finger. My stomach sank in. I was starving, but not for food. The new menu in my head spelled out one word:Grace.
I stood up and removed my shirt, then looked down at my tenting joggers. My mustache twitched at the corner, hiding a smirk. I stepped away from the table and strode after her. Grace stepped into the jacuzzi in her barely-there bra and panties. I waited until she settled in the tub and looked at me, then lowered my pants. She bit her lip.
What the fuck am I doing?
The jets bubbled water, and the aroma from the wisteria hanging on the pergola overhead filled the air. I hadn’t given Grace much romance when we were together, but she’d always had it figured out. Campfire nights, kayaking trips, secluded island getaways, the hammock naps underneath the willow tree and surprise picnics in her rose gardens—those were all Grace. She was more romantic, adventurous, and graceful than any woman I’d ever met.
I settled underneath the water, my dick hard and ready and my head spinning with all that could have been. Yet she was here, ready, willing, and with me.
“Help me let go of the stress, Hunter.”
She scooted over to sit beside me, but I didn’t expect her to straddle me. Her soft ass nestled over my lap as she trapped my dick between us. I smoothed my hand up her arm and cupped it around her neck. My fingers weaved into the hair at her nape.
“I don’t want you to do anything you would regret.” I pulled her in closer, my voice barely a whisper as I hovered my lips over hers. “What about your friendly neighborhood girlfriends? What will you tell them about us at the barbecue?”
Her breath flowed inside my lungs, reminding me she’d had wine tonight and overriding my thought. She shifted, raking her fingers through my hair.
“I’ll tell them you’re holding me against my will, demanding sexual favors and calling me dirty names.”
Fuck, yeah.
“Is that what you’d like, Grace?”
“What I’d really like,” she whispered, “is to borrow your turkey baster.”
CHAPTER 8
GRACE
The sound of chirping birds stirred me awake. The sun’s rays glowed behind my eyelids, and I covered my face with my hands, shifting. The sheets were tangled around my legs, and my head was ticking like a bomb.
“Argh…” I grumbled.I pulled the duvet aside and realized I was naked.
Fuck.
I slipped back underneath the covers and rose to my elbows, then reached for my glasses. The fog cleared from my eyes as I focused in on Hunter. He was sitting on the chair beside the balcony with a croissant in one hand and a steaming mug of coffee in the other. His joggers clung to his thick thighs, and his abs glowed in the morning light like he’d oiled himself.
“Good morning.” His deep voice carried across the room and curled through me. My brain fogged and my head pounded.
“Morning? How is it morning already, and what happened to yesterday?” I pressed my fingers to my temples, and last night’s dinner flashed through my mind.“Where are my clothes?”
I looked up as Hunter rose and paced my way. His firm steps over the hardwood echoed in my brain. The croissant flopped in his hand as he passed me a mug of coffee. I took a sip, feeling instant caffeine relief.
“Last night, you stripped in the solarium before dipping into the hot tub.”
My head flew up.
Oh, my God! The hot tub.
“Your panties and bra were soaked, so I took them off. They’re hanging in the laundry room.”
I remembered the wine, the gentle breeze, and the jetting stream between my thighs. The water bubbled; the sun fried my brain… and then Hunter joined me, naked. The memory of his firm dick pressing into my belly stirred my morning arousal.
My head flew up in time to see a coy smile stretch his mustache.
