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Hunter nodded easily, his thumb stroking up and down my bicep through my sweater in a way that made me want to stretch out like a cat and jump his bones at the same time. But that discordant note was still there, making it hard to sink into the close, relaxing vibe. I felt… awkward. And I finally realized that awkwardness was because we were talking around what I really wanted to know:

How did Hunter Jackson feel about me?

Because I was falling for him hard and fast, and I wasn’t quite sure I’d packed a parachute.

On the one hand, this felt normal. Inevitable. He’d been my very first crush, after all. But this bout was infinitely worse, like one of those tropical fevers you sometimes read about that lay dormant for years only to come back with a vengeance. I’m sorry, Mr. Nutter, but once you’ve contracted Hunter Jackson Fever, there is no cure.

“Charlie? Y’okay?” Hunter asked when the silence had gone on a bit too long.

Yes. Great. Just… comparing my feelings for you to a plague.

“Fine,” I assured him. I pulled his hand up to kiss it. “Were you in love with Lane?”

He shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so. You?”

“I’ve never even met the man.” I waited for him to roll his eyes before I responded seriously. “No, never. Not… not… no.” Part of me wanted to say “not yet” or “not with anyone other than you,” but I knew this wasn’t the time. Besides, I wasn’t actually in love with Hunter… yet, and the last thing I wanted to do was scare him off.

But when I leaned forward to kiss him and his responding kiss was heartbreakingly tender and sweet, I realized the words were irrelevant. As we moved together, our bodies—our fingertips and mouths and the gentle brush of our skin—expressed the newly emerging feelings we had for each other.

Hunter pulled away, and for a heartbeat, his eyes met mine. “Talky time is over.”

Chapter Twelve

HUNTER

Once we got to the bedroom, we took our time peeling the clothes off each other and exploring each other’s bodies with touches and tongues until I wanted to cry with the overwhelming feelings I had for him. Our eyes locked and held for long moments. Unspoken words of affection, disbelief, relief, and celebration moved between us, crowding out any shred of worry or doubt.

After fifteen years of anger and misunderstandings, we were finally, impossibly, inevitably together, and the look in his eyes was all the proof I needed that we were on the same page.

This was something real, something with hope and possibility.

This was a beginning.

“Mine,” Charlie breathed before kissing the apple of my cheek and moving to kiss in front of my ear, then underneath it. Goose bumps prickled on my skin. “Please, mine.”

“Yes.” The word was so soft I wasn’t sure I’d actually said it out loud. But the expression in his eyes, of surprise and joy, was unmistakable.

Charlie lay over me on the bed, our bare bodies fitting together perfectly. “Can I—”

“Yes,” I said again. “Yes, please. God, yes.”

I gestured to the bedside table, where he found lube and condoms. He used the lube to begin to prep me with his fingers, moving my legs apart and teasing my cock with his mouth at the same time. I ran my fingers into his hair as he worked, and I couldn’t hold in the noises he brought out in me.

When I couldn’t possibly be more ready, he rolled on the condom and slicked the tip before crawling over me again and pressing my legs back. “You okay?”

I was already blissed-out, hard and flushed with desire. The man on top of me was truly stunning, and my stomach clenched with a sense of unreality.

Me and Charlie Nutter. Together. Amazing.

I smiled and nodded before pulling Charlie closer. He positioned himself at my entrance and began to press inside.

The tight stretch of his cock made my eyes roll back. I groaned as he continued moving forward.

I clutched his hips, encouraging him to keep going. The fullness was almost unbearable until he pressed up against just the right spot. It was too good, too fucking incredible, and I wondered if I’d be able to hold on long enough to make it good for him too.

As soon as he was as deep inside of me as he could go, I groaned and arched up, rubbing my dripping cock against his stomach. His dark eyes held mine as he reached down to stroke me and began to drag himself in and out of my body.

My eyes slid closed in pleasure as I groaned again. Pretty sure I murmured words of incredulity at his body and the way it made me feel, but I wasn’t quite all there. This joining, this connection with him… it was transformative. It shook something inside of me until it settled deep and still where it was always meant to be.

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