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Chapter Nine
Hunter
If there was one thing I knew for sure when Saylor left me happily weak-kneed in the kitchen it was that I wanted her. All of her. For always.
For years I’d fantasized about Saylor. When I was younger, I knew that having her would destroy my friendship with Matt. Then Matt and I went into business together and I knew, for sure, I had to wipe Saylor from my mind.
Then cousin Rex got his hands on her.
Nasty, narcissistic Rex. I made one attempt to stop the relationship and was warned by my Uncle Gerard—Rex’s father—that the seed-funding I’d secured from him for Flexecutive would whither if I came between his son and the girl I thought I wanted. Saylor seemed happy, and when I questioned her, she said Rex was perfect, her dream come true. So I stepped away and got on with building our company. When we saw we needed an office in London, I was happy to run it. Anything was better than seeing Rex and Saylor together.
I had to convince her that although independence, empowerment and growth were essential, it would be just as fulfilling to explore those things as a couple. I wanted to go on that journey with her.
Our connection was undeniably off the charts. When she’d finished blowing me, she told me to hurry and dress before she did something she’d regret. “Thank you for letting me do that,” she said.
“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I do, to an extent. But I also want you to know that I’m right here if you change your mind. I’d love to return the pleasure and have you come in my mouth, too. One word and I’m there.”
She actually turned pink. “Thanks. I like you, Hunter, a lot. And I appreciate that you’re not trying to push me into anything. I guess I’m used to constantly bending to somebody else’s will. This is different. You’re different. I’m not explaining myself very well.”
“It’s okay. I get what you mean.” I grabbed a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses from the cupboard. “Come on. I’ll light the fire in the loggia. There are blankets out there. We can watch the endless snow.”
Once the fire was roaring, Saylor arranged the bottle and a single glass on the hearth and took a few photos.
“You are such a liar,” I teased.
“Don’t you dare say a word. Nobody’s allowed to know what happens behind the curtain. Half those travelers of Instagram are sitting in their LA apartments posting somebody else’s images of Tahiti. At least I’m actually here.”
I dragged one of the massive vintage cane loungers over to the fire, and pulled a couple of soft throws from the stack. “Come on, let’s lie by the fire and warm up. You can tell me your wedding plans.”
We finally got organized with wine and blankets. Snow fell just a few feet away, but there was no wind, just a wicked sub-zero temperature. Saylor rested against my chest and sipped her wine.
“I have nothing to complain about. Look at us, here in this amazing house that’s so huge and luxurious it’s almost a lodge. Beautiful wine. Fire. Snow and landscape fit for a postcard. And, well, you, Hunter. Did you know I had an enormous crush on you as a teenager?”
“I might have noticed.”
“Rubbish. You never noticed me at all. Every guy who asked me out I measured against you.”
“They’d fail by inches—”
“You’re not that big,” she said.
I laughed. “You’ve found someone bigger?”
“I guess not. You are quite a mouthful.”
“I bet I can fill other parts of you, too.”
“Hunter. You’re supposed to be honorable. I’m about to be married.”
“Yeah. To yourself.”
“Be happy for me.” The firelight caught the deep-green facets of her eyes.
“Happy?” I put a finger under her chin to keep her focus on me. “I’m jealous.”
