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And hearing her say yes had felt even better.
Hunter nodded, thumping the door gently shut behind her and himself back to reality. "Well, I can take you upstairs if you want. I mean"-his chin winged up as he heard the innuendo in his words, too late-"to show you where the bathroom is, and everything." Christ, could he fumble this any harder?
But Emerson just let out a soft laugh. "I know what you meant." Adjusting her brown leather bag over her shoulder, she followed him into the cottage and up the sun-filled stairwell. "I'm not kicking you out of the only bathroom in the house, am I?"
Focus, dumba.s.s. He might want her, but he also wanted her to feel comfortable. "Not at all. There's a guest bath up here and a powder room on the main level, so you've got the s.p.a.ce in the master bath to yourself for as long as you'd like."
Hunter led the way down the upstairs hall toward his bedroom, which he'd made triple sure didn't look like a stand-in for the pigsty over at Whittaker Hollow, his boots coming to a stop on the floorboards when they reached the master bathroom.
"Here we go. One great, big bathtub, at your service."
Emerson's eyes went wide, and she slipped past him to fully enter the room. "Oh, wow. This is about as far as it gets from the bathroom in my apartment." She lowered her bag to an out-of-the-way spot by the vanity, extending her arms out slightly as she turned a full circle over the sand-colored bathroom tiles. "Seriously. It's gorgeous."
A pang unfurled low in Hunter's belly as he watched Emerson take in the room. Letting his gaze follow hers, his eyes moved over the marble-topped vanity, the oiled bronze light fixture over the mirror behind it, the circular window set just below the gabled line of the ceiling that was too high for anyone to see inside yet large enough to fill the room with soft, golden sunlight.
He returned his stare to hers as her eyes traveled the length of the wheat-brown walls, then the plain white molding framing both the door behind them as well as the one off to the side, keeping the toilet private. Even though he'd never used the bathtub, Hunter had to admit that the fixture really did make the room, with its curved, glossy edges and st.u.r.dy feet finished with the same oiled bronze as the faucets and the light over the vanity.
Of course, his appreciation for the cast-iron monster tripled when Emerson caught sight of it with a sigh.
"All I did was paint, really. The builder did the rest. But I'm glad you like it," Hunter said, taking a step back despite the fact that every part of him save his conscience was strongly vetoing the maneuver. "The towels on the bar here are all clean, and there's soap and shampoo on the counter there if you'd like to borrow some. I'll be downstairs if you need anything else."
Yep. You'll be downstairs fending off the world's biggest hard-on. And she'll be up here. Warm. Wet. And naked in your bathtub.
Emerson fixed him with a smile as sweet and slow as b.u.t.ter over warm bread, and Good Christ, he hadn't thought this through even a little bit.
"You know, I've been thinking." She stepped toward him, her skirt rustling and swaying around her ankles. "It seems a shame you've never used your own bathtub."
Every part of Hunter froze except his heartbeat. "Guess I'm more of a shower guy."
"Most guys are," Emerson said, stopping only when there was less than a foot of s.p.a.ce between their bodies. "Still. It's an easy fix, right?"
"I do live here. I guess I could use the tub anytime I wanted to."
Emerson's pupils dilated in the soft sunlight, but her aquamarine gaze didn't waver as she leaned in even closer. "Like right now, for example."
Surprise winged through him, followed by a hard shot of heat. "But you're going to be in here."
"I am." Her hands found his waist, fingers skimming the top edge of his jeans with a light, lazy touch, and his c.o.c.k stirred just from the proximity. "You could stay with me," she whispered. "Two birds, one stone, and all."
Yes, yes, yes, came the chant from above his neck and below his belt, and it took every ounce of restraint in the universe for him to grate out, "Are you sure that's what you want?"
"Do you think I'd ask if I wasn't?" Emerson's mouth tilted into a smile, and he reached up to swipe his thumb over the curve of her peach-colored mouth, satisfaction spearing through him as she shuddered in response.
"No. But just to be clear, if I stay in here with you, you're not getting what you came for."
Emerson's smile grew wicked in a way Hunter had never seen before, her tongue darting out in a s.e.xy, torturous glide over his skin. "Oh yes, I am. All you have to do is give it to me."
Hunter's heart pounded, his c.o.c.k painfully hard against the fly of his jeans. Staying in here with her was impulsive and crazy and all the things he knew he should avoid like a forty-pound land mine. She'd broken his heart once. The only way to keep himself safe was to play it safe.
He brought his mouth down on hers without thinking twice.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
Hunter kissed her hard enough to make her lips ache and her legs consider giving out, and Emerson nearly moaned in relief. Hunger pulsed through his touch like wildfire, traveling from his fingers all the way to her core, and even though the strength of the kiss bordered on pleasure/pain, all she could think was more.
"Hunter." His name rolled a path past her lips to fill the heated air around them, and he responded with a sound she felt under her skin.
"I'm sorry," he said, cupping her neck to pull her in for another bone-melting kiss before she could make her confusion form words.
"For what?"
He pulled back to pin her with a steel-blue stare that was all certainty. "For delaying the bath I promised. But I've waited twelve years to have you back in my bed, Em. I'm not waiting anymore."
In one swift move, Hunter wrapped both arms around the back of her rib cage, pulling her tight against his body. Sensations slammed into Emerson from so many directions that, for a split second, she could barely process them all. Hunter's firm, full mouth coaxing her lips open to glide his tongue over hers. The press of his chest on the thin layers of fabric between his muscles and her aching nipples. The suggestive friction of his erection, low and hard over her belly, and oh G.o.d, she didn't want to wait, either.
"Your bed sounds good. Go."
They moved in a combination of deep kisses and laughter and tangled limbs, back over the threshold of Hunter's bedroom. His simple, masculine bed sat in all its king-sized glory in the middle of the s.p.a.ce, and Emerson found herself thanking G.o.d and every saint she could think of that they'd been only a dozen steps away.
"Yes," she whispered. Wasting no time, she kicked off her sandals. She reached out to slide her fingers beneath his T-s.h.i.+rt and lift it up, wanting more, wanting everything, hard and fast and now, now, now before her body could betray her.
But Hunter stepped out of her grasp, capturing both wrists with his work-roughened fingers. "Not yet."
Emerson's heart pounded, the ache between her legs following along with the rhythm. "What do you mean?"
"I mean not yet." His eyes glittered with an edgy intensity all new to her, and her breath caught in her lungs.
"Hunter, please. You just said you don't want to wait." Her face flushed. She hadn't felt this good in so long-h.e.l.l, she might not have ever been so desperate for an o.r.g.a.s.m. She needed to be naked, the sooner, the better. "Please take me to bed."
The smile lifting one corner of his mouth hardened her nipples to tight peaks behind her sheer white top. "Just because I want you in my bed right now doesn't mean I want to rush through being here." Dropping her wrists, he hooked a finger beneath her chin, letting his mouth hover just over hers. "You want me to do more than kiss you?"
Emerson s.h.i.+vered in antic.i.p.ation, biting back the moan in her reply. "Yes."
"Do you want me to undress you?" At the sound of the hitch in her breath, Hunter's eyes flared. "Put my hands on you? My mouth?" He angled his lips even closer, his promise-filled words making her panties go damp as he asked, "Do you want me to spread your legs and bury myself inside you until we both lose our minds?"
Need raced through Emerson's body, humming beneath her skin. Oh G.o.d, she was already losing her mind. "Yes. Please, yes."
But rather than strip her naked and skip to the end of the list the way her brain and body were demanding, Hunter just smiled.
"I want that, too. But not yet," he said, quelling the protest building in the back of her throat. "I've waited twelve years for this. To remember where you blush." He traced a line from the soft spot beneath her chin to the hollow between her collarbones, her skin p.r.i.c.kling with a flush beneath his fingers. "To relearn how you sound."
His touch drifted lower, coming to a stop on the bare skin at the deep V of her s.h.i.+rt, and this time, Emerson couldn't hold back her moan. "Hunter."
A dark edge filled both his smile and his stare as he brought his lips down on hers in a hot, suggestive sweep. "To remember how you feel and how you taste. So no matter how bad you want to rush, I'm taking my time with you. Starting right now."
Sending his arms around her shoulders, Hunter brought their bodies flush. He kissed her slowly, exploring her mouth with his lips and teeth and tongue, and as much as Emerson wanted to stay one step ahead of her traitorous body, slowing down felt too good to resist. She knotted her fingers in Hunter's hair, meeting some of his movements while surrendering to others. Deep strokes of their tongues played off soft licks, soft licks leading to the sweet sting of her bottom lip between his teeth, and finally, she pulled back on a gasp.
"Okay," Emerson said, stealing one last taste of his firm, full mouth. "You win. Kissing is underrated."
A low, s.e.xy laugh rumbled up from his chest. "I've only just started kissing you. But now it's not your mouth I want."
Uncut desire ribboned through her as Hunter's hands found the b.u.t.tons on her s.h.i.+rt, freeing the halves of sheer cotton with a few economical twists of his wrist. Her bra was just as thin as the blouse he was currently sliding off her shoulders and the skirt that quickly followed, and for a stark second, the desire to cover up the body that could betray her at any second took hold.
But Hunter's eyes followed his fingers over her skin, his expression so colored with desire, that moving-h.e.l.l, even breathing properly-wasn't an option.
A low oath slipped past his lips. "Jesus, Em. You are . . ."
He trailed off to scrub a hand over his mouth, and in that moment, she realized how much he wanted her, too. The tautness of his muscles, the ridge of his c.o.c.k pressing hard against his jeans, the flash of hunger turning his stare a dark, stormy blue. All of it combined to make Emerson feel beautiful and bold.
She lifted her chin, squaring her shoulders to let him look at her. Although the blinds on his bedroom windows were closed, the ample sunlight behind them easily illuminated the room. Her heart thrummed faster as Hunter took her in with a slow stare, sliding his fingers over the thin satin straps at her shoulders. Without a word, his hands met at the swell between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, unfastening the front closure of her bra and guiding her back over the bed.
He tugged his T-s.h.i.+rt over his head, fitting himself next to her across the center of the mattress. In a clear reaffirmation of his promise not to rush, he slanted a slow kiss over her mouth, lingering just long enough to build a whimper in her throat before sending the kiss down the line of her jaw. His path traveled lower, stubble rasping against the sensitive column of her neck, then the flat plane where her shoulder gave way to her chest, and another shot of need bloomed low and hot in her core.
"Hunter." Emerson barely recognized that the gravel-and-velvet murmur belonged to her voice, and she arched up at the same moment he dropped to part his lips over one aching nipple.
"Ah." The wordless sound burst out of her on a cry. Her back bowed to follow it, curving the edges of Hunter's mouth into a smile, but he didn't slow his movements. Tightening his lips, he circled his tongue around the hard peak trapped there, and the wet friction was enough to make her pulse hammer even faster. He sucked and swirled and licked, angling over her for better access and bracing one palm wide over the comforter in the spot just beside her head. Slick heat built, steady and demanding between her legs, and Emerson realized the truth all at once.
Her body wouldn't betray her. Being with Hunter just this once was hers for the taking.
And fast, slow, and everything in between, she wanted all of it.
Emerson's hand reached out of its own free will to discover his hip, wrapping around the denim in a tight grasp. His breathing changed just a fraction, letting her know he felt her hand on him, and the effect dared her to be even more brazen. Releasing her grip, she let her hand travel lower, relis.h.i.+ng both his moan and his faster ministrations on her breast as she closed her fingers over the hard line of his c.o.c.k.
"Emerson." The word was all warning, and grated against her sensitive skin.
But she continued to stroke. "Turnabout is fair play. Plus"-she paused, making a round-trip circuit from root to tip and back again over his jeans-"I'll go slow if you want. But, trust me, Hunter, you're not the only one who's only just started."
He pulled her nipple all the way past his lips, kissing her hotly before sliding his attention to her other breast, and Emerson followed his lead. She freed the b.u.t.ton and zipper on Hunter's jeans, moving from a light touch to firm intention. His c.o.c.k jumped against her palm as she slipped her hand between the denim and his boxer briefs to stroke him faster, and he parted from her nipple to capture her hand with a groan and a curse.
"Not yet."
"But-"
The look on his face, so full of die-hard certainty, stole the breath right from her lungs. "There's one more place I haven't tasted yet. Now come here and let me remind you how underrated kissing really is."
Hunter moved before Emerson could blink or breathe. He found his feet, turning to face the spot where she lay across the short side of the bed. Taking barely a second to shuck his boots and jeans, he leaned back over her body, curling his palms around her hips to slide her legs over the side of the bed.
"I used to think about you like this." He parted her knees and knelt on the floor between them, his breath nearly as hot as his gaze as both raked over her thighs.
"I thought about you, too," Emerson admitted. After she'd left, she'd spent so many nights lost in memories. She'd touch herself until she cried out, imagining that the hand between her legs belonged to him instead.
Hunter dragged a finger up one inner thigh, drawing a s.h.i.+ver over her skin. "And now here you are. Hot. Wet. Exactly like I remembered."
A reminder of how deceptively different her body really was now kicked at the back of her mind, but she shut it out in favor of his touch, so close to the place where she ached for it most.
"So pretty," he said, moving his hand to the seam of her body, stroking softly. Emerson bucked against the slide of his fingers, crying out when he circled her c.l.i.t over the damp cotton of her panties. Hooking his thumbs around the material at her hips, Hunter tugged downward, exposing the last bit of her covered skin. "So perfect."
The want building deep inside of Emerson's core became the background for the slam of her heart. She levered up to her forearms, and the sight in front of her sent the breath from her body in a gasp. She'd been too preoccupied before to notice the full-length mirror on the wall by the bathroom door. But now, faced with the unexpected reflection of Hunter's muscular shoulders angled between her thighs, she couldn't do anything but stare.
His sun-burnished skin was a direct, s.e.xy contrast to her cream-colored legs, and she widened them out of pure instinct. He pressed his shoulders beneath her thighs, increasing their contact, and Emerson lost herself in the sight of the two of them wrapped together so intimately. Heat and need pumped through her even harder as Hunter lowered his mouth to her s.e.x with a long, slow sweep of his tongue.
In the mirror, she watched herself tremble and moan. "Oh . . . G.o.d. Please don't stop."
And in the mirror, Hunter didn't. Curling his arms around her thighs from beneath her, he flattened both palms over her hips, pressing her wide as he pleasured her with his mouth. Emerson watched their reflection, completely entranced. Every flick of his tongue sent sparks through her belly, and she chased each sensation with a pump of her hips. The body in the mirror was strong and sensual, skin flushed pink with arousal, and yes-yes-that body was hers, meeting every sinful glide of Hunter's mouth and wanting even more.
"d.a.m.n, I've missed how you taste," he whispered, slipping higher to swirl his tongue over her c.l.i.t. Release built between her legs, tempting her to thrust even faster against his lips and tongue. Splaying the fingers of her left hand over the comforter, she pushed herself nearly to sitting, knotting her right hand through Hunter's hair to hold him close between her legs.
The image in the mirror was wicked and beautiful, and the sight of their intimate connection snapped the last thread of Emerson's control. Her o.r.g.a.s.m surged up from deep inside, replacing all of her senses with wave after wave of pure pleasure. Hunter worked her through each one, softening the movements of his mouth until, finally, her mind and body returned to one another.
"Come here." She pulled him close, letting her shoulders fall back over the mattress.
Pressing a kiss to her neck, then another to the s.p.a.ce just below her ear, he chuffed out a small laugh. "You're even more beautiful than I remember, you know that?"
"So are you," Emerson said, reaching between their bodies to run her hand up the corded muscle of Hunter's thigh. "Will you let me show you now?"
His heavy, want-filled exhale was answer enough. She trailed her fingers over his hip, above the waistband of his boxer briefs, making her way to the flat plane of his abdomen. Hunter's muscles were lean, work hardened and strong in a way they hadn't been twelve years ago, and now that he was on top of her, dividing the cradle of her hips with his frame, Emerson could make them all out in mouthwatering detail.
Her hand moved over his warm skin, the thin line of hair arrowing from his navel to the waistband of his boxer briefs crisp beneath her touch. She sent her fingers lower still, slipping past the cotton and closing them around his c.o.c.k.
"Em." The word broke from Hunter's throat on a low sound. His eyes squeezed shut, and he began to thrust against the circle of her fist, slowly at first. Need rebuilt in Emerson's body, quickly pulsing through her veins, and she canted up to meet his thrusts with her hips as well as her hand.
They moved together in rhythm until both of them were left breathing in short, needful bursts. A thought made its way past the l.u.s.t-fueled haze in her mind, and as much as she wanted nothing more than to take Hunter's boxer briefs all the way off and have him inside her right this second, that thought was too important to ignore.
"I need . . ." So many things, so many things. "My bag."
His eyes opened, but Emerson didn't wait long enough for him to stop his motions.
"I have condoms in my bag," she said, and the confusion on Hunter's face slid into a mischievous smile.
"Why, Miss Montgomery." His drawl was pure honey, and G.o.d, she wanted to come from the sound of it alone. "Did you come over here today to seduce me?"
"I sure did, Mr. Cross." She put on the sultriest expression she could muster, although current circ.u.mstances didn't make it tough. "Now are you going to go get those condoms so I can finish the job, or am I going to have to take charge here?"
Hunter's gaze glinted, but he slipped from her body just far enough to reach his bedside table drawer. "You can take charge next time. In fact, I have a feeling I'll like that very much. But I'm prepared, too, and today, you're mine."
He took a condom out of the drawer, pausing for just the briefest of moments to take off his boxer briefs and tear past the foil. Returning to the bed, he guided her lengthwise along the comforter, centering himself between her legs.
Emerson opened for him without a second thought. Hunter slid his c.o.c.k along her folds, and she lifted her hips in search of more. Slowly, he pushed inside, stretching her with delicious pressure, inch by inch, until they were completely joined.
"Holy . . . G.o.d, you feel so good." His murmur spilled over her shoulder as he leaned in to cover her body, drawing his hips back and returning them just hard enough to make her c.l.i.t throb. Hunter felt familiar and brand-new all at once, the warm cedar smell of his skin, the delicious friction of his stubble where her ear met her neck. Emerson's lips parted over his shoulder, her teeth grazing the hard line of muscle there, and he thrust deeper without increasing his pace.
"Yes. Oh yes." The handful of sounds was all she could manage past the pleasure coming at her from all sides. Her heart pounded, nipples tightening to beaded points from the slide of Hunter's chest on hers. He held her close, whispering all sorts of things in her ear that made her move faster, begging him deeper inside. Balancing his weight between his forearms and knees, he pumped his hips to fill her over and over, and she let out a high-pitched cry as a powerful climax blindsided her.