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I agree to do that, and after a few more minutes of filling her in on the days' events, I hang up and go back into the room with Hunter. I slip into the bed and snuggle up to him. Within seconds, his eyes are open and he's blinking at me.
He reaches out and thumps my nose as a gentle smile spreads over his lips. “How are you?”
“Good. How are you?”
He sits up, revealing his amazing chest, and I worry I may combust. I think he notices, because he smirks and runs his finger up my throat, the way you might stroke a cat. It makes me shiver, and I find myself giggling like a teenager.
As he slides off the bed, totally, gloriously nude, and begins to look for his clothes, he peeks over his shoulder. “I'm sorry about earlier. Damned embarrassing.” It takes me a second to realize he's talking about the mess he made of his room—not about Priscilla.
"It's okay. Don't be embarrassed."
He grabs some boxer-briefs off the floor, and it takes everything I have not to watch his perfect package as he steps into them. Holy moly.
"I've thrown things around since I was a kid. It's how I used to deal with anger I guess."
I nod, toying with the silky sheets. "You lost your mom. It makes sense that you would have had anger issues."
He gives me a charming little sideways smile. "You're wise for your age."
I arch a brow. "My mom has been hard in other ways."
"I can believe that." I watch in bliss as he throws a few handfuls of clothes into one of the drawers, his chest rippling. As he steps toward my side of the bed, I know I must be flushed. I watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I know we haven't had the main event yet. I just wanted you to know that it's not because I don't want to."
Holy cow. My blush gets blushier. “Thank you,” I say awkwardly. “That's nice to know.”
He leans against the bed and pulls me up against his chest. “If I'd known what I was missing out on, I'd have looked you up while you up a while ago. Actually,” he adds, smiling a little, “I sort of did.”
“You did?”
He nods. “One day I just got curious about little Libby DeVille, and I looked you up in the campus registry. Kind of a pervy thing to do when you're in your mid-20s.”
I laugh. “You liar. You're thirty.”
“Indeed, but I wasn't then.”
Holy crap. Hunter looked me up when I was an undergrad? The belly bats turn into butterflies, and they soar around my stomach.
He squeezes my shoulder as he steps away, grabbing another handful of clothes and hauling them over to his dresser, and I work hard at not overheating as I watch his taut ass. Ah, and those long, muscled legs.
His back still makes me a little sad. The welts make me feel a little sick. I open my mouth to tell him about Priscilla. At that moment, though, he stuffs the clothes into his drawer and comes back over to me. He leans against the bed, and I notice how radiant his face looks; that's how focused he is on me. I have to struggle not to grin, because it feels so good.
“I'm sorry that you saw me act the fool, but I'm glad you're here. It's been...a break. A nice break, Libby DeVille.” He twirls the end of a strand of my hair, the way he likes to do sometimes.
I wink. “Maybe you need to take breaks more often.”
His fingers tunnel into my hair, and he brings his mouth down over mine. I'm lost in the warmth and softness of his lips and tongue, the nibbling teases of his teeth. He climbs into bed, resting his delicious weight on top of me, and he's hard and I'm wet and I'm grabbing that gold hair and staring into those cat eyes. When I pull away to gasp for air between our kisses, I really think this might be it. Maybe I'm finally going to lose my V-card.
I go for his boxer-briefs, but his hand clamps over mine. His gaze on mine is hard, which I don't understand. His chest is pumping, and I can feel how hard he is against my knee.
“Libby—no.”
I frown. Did I do something wrong?
"It's not you,” he pants. “You're perfect. It's just...I don't want your first time to be like this. With me like this." He looks down at himself, and when he looks back up, he leans his head against my neck and speaks his warm words on my collar bone: "You could do better."
His words shock me. I sit up a little, jarring him, and then I lie back down and cradle his shoulder. Hunter thinks I could do better than him? "Better how?"
“Better place, better circumstances...better guy."
