Page 26 of Still Missing You

Now, though, Hunter didn’t wear a ring, and he’d never mentioned a wife or fiancée. Had he never married her, then? Something that felt too much like hope expands warmly in my chest.

Hunter shakes his head. “No. You?”

He could be lying, but I didn’t think so. He didn’t lie back when I’d been in love with him all those years ago. That honest integrity had been one of the reasons I’d fallen in love with him. I doubted he’d have changed all that much.

“I’m not seeing anyone.” A smile tugs at my mouth. Shit, if he only knew. Work kept me busy, and it had been years since my last relationship. It had even been a while since my last hookup.

“Good,” Hunter says, then he’s closing the distance between us, climbing onto the bed. He kneels over me, straddling my hips, his broad shoulders and chest hovering over mine. He plants his hands on either side of my head, arms caging me. My breath lodges in my chest. My dick twitches. Holy fuck, this was happening.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to do this,” he whispers, warm breath tickling my cheek and ear. My elbows give out, and I sink back against the mattress. Given the low-key need pulsing inside like an ache whenever he was close, I might have some idea. When he’d kissed me earlier, it took everything I had not to drop to my knees right there in front of The Coldwater General Store.

Hunter’s mouth captures mine, hungry and demanding, driving any sense of coherent thought out of my head. I meet his kiss with a relentless hunger of my own. There is nothing sweet or tentative about this kiss. We’re like two starving men striving to devour each other.

I wrap my arms around Hunter, and pull him closer, until his chest is flush with mine and his weight pins me to the mattress. I’m half wild with need, but we keep kissing all tongues and teeth. His thigh slots between my legs, and I can’t help but grind my aching cock against him, desperate for the friction.

He leans back and groans, and the sound prickles over my skin like wildfire, leaving me hot and shivery at once. I grin and grind myself against him, shifting so my hip grazes his cock straining against his jeans. This all feels amazing, but I want more. I want all of him, stretching me, filling me, fucking me until every part of me is eclipsed by him.

“Too many clothes,” I whisper against his lips before I tug at his bottom lip with my teeth.

“You might be right.” He pushes off me and kneels back on the bed. Already, I miss the heat from his body, his weight pressing my back against the mattress. I start to protest, but he pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his rock-hard chest, and the words die on my lips.

Hunter had always had a good body. He was an athlete, but the years between then and now have sculpted his frame, leaving his muscled chest and stomach harder and more defined, with a scatter of short brown hair across his pecs, trailing from his belly button and disappearing under the waistband of his jeans.

A dizzying sense of déjà vu sweeps through me, and I can’t believe any of this is real. Walking away from Hunter Cade was one of the hardest things I had ever done. I didn’t think I would ever speak to him again, let alone have him in my bed again. I’m playing a dangerous game. In just a few days of knowing him, I remember all the reasons I’d fallen for him in the first place. It would be so easy to fall for him again.

He would walk away at the end of all this and leave me behind, and I would have to get over him all over again.

Panic swells in my throat, but I swallow it down. It’s just sex, I tell myself, but I don’t believe myself. Still, I want Hunter too much to do the right thing, the smart thing.

He drags his jeans and underwear over his hips and down his legs. His thick cock springs free, standing firm against the trimmed brown hair, and I nearly drop to my knees and beg, desperate to feel the weight of him against my tongue.

Instead, I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor, then shimmy out of my pajamas before tossing them aside, too. I look up at Hunter. His dark eyes travel hungrily down my body, and I realize he wants me as badly as I want him.

“Hunter,” I murmur, my voice so low and raspy, I barely recognize it.

He climbs back onto the bed, his hard, hot frame settling over me again, and then his mouth captures mine in another brain-scrambling kiss. His cock drags against mine, hot and velvet-smooth, and my toes curl into the quilt.

He traces nibbling kisses over my jaw and down my throat. “God, you feel so good.”

The low rumble of his words against my neck reverberates through my bones. He rolls us onto our sides, grips my ass with one big hand, his finger grazing my hole. Every part of me feels tight and ready to shatter.

“Hunter, please,” I gasp, not even sure what I’m begging for.

“Do you have anything?” he says, and for a moment, I blink, confused, uncertain what he’s asking. Then my brain finally catches up. He’s asking if I have condoms or lube. I don’t, of course. It didn’t occur to me that there was even the slightest chance we’d have sex on this trip, or ever again, for that matter.

“Shit.”

“Me neither,” he says. “Guess we’ll have to make do.”

Before his words register, his grip on my ass tightens, and he drags me closer. A low groan tears free from my throat, and my hips thrust forward almost on their own volition. My cock drags against his thick length, earning me a shuddery gasp from Hunter before his hand closes around us both.

He starts to stroke us, and I grip his shoulders, tucking my head into the crook of his neck. I suck and nibble the skin at his throat, fucking into his fist and rubbing against his cock. I can feel my balls tightening, and I’m about to come far too fast.

“I’m close.” The needy whimper of my voice makes my face hot.

“Me too.” His free hand tangles in my hair, and my scalp burns in the best way possible, while his grip on us tightens and his pace turns wild.

I come first. Not shocking. I’ve been on a hair trigger since we started. Hunter doesn’t stop. His cock keeps sliding against me, messy and slick, and it doesn’t take him long to spill against my stomach.