by Dara Joy
May forced herself to look away. Unfortunately, the picture must have seared in her brain, for she could not seem to shake it.
Hunter exited the bathroom, his damp clothes draped over his arm.
“You washed the velvet suit?” she asked incredulously.
“Uh-huh. Why? Is something wrong?” He looked at her earnestly.
She didn't have the heart to tell him. He'd find out soon enough when it dried. And could stand on its own.
She straightened the stack of papers she had printed out, scanning them for typos. A voice came from right behind her chair and it sounded like a croaking bullfrog.
“You must be stiff from sitting here all day; would you like me to massage—”
She gaped at him over her shoulder. “What happened to your voice?”
He seemed surprised at her reaction. He frowned. “I'm speaking to you in a husky murmur.”
“Well, don't. You sound like a foghorn at low tide.”
Hunter stroked his freshly shaved jaw. “I must be doing it wrong. Can you demonstrate it for me?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Where did you ever get such a crazy idea? And why do you want to talk in a husky murmur?”
“I'm… testing out something. Go with me on this, okay?”
She expelled a gust of breath. The man was strange. “All right. Try this.” She lowered her voice to a throaty, intimate drawl. “The shower's ready and waiting… ”
Hunter's eyes glazed over. His heart kick-started. He leaned toward her…
“Your turn,” she said in her normal voice.
Hunter pulled up short. Well, it sure worked on him! Positive that he could give as good as he got, he cleared his throat to try again.
Resting his forearm on the back of her chair, he bent close to her, whispering softly, “Your… shower is ready and I'm waiting… ”
May's eyes widened. “Th-that's good.” More than just good. Drooling good.
The corners of Hunter's mouth curved. He decided to move in a little closer to her. He wanted to kiss that little curve on the corner of her mouth that had been fascinating him since he met her.
May bounced out of her chair. “Guess I better take advantage of it then, huh?” She dashed to the bathroom.
Just before she closed the door, she called out, “Cedric?”
“No,” he yelled back, smiling. It was working. He could feel it in his… bones.
The thought made him laugh. Huskily.
Chapter Fifteen
“My underwear is still damp. I guess I'll have to sleep like this.”
Hunter gestured to the quilt covering his bronzed skin and gave her an apologetic “it's beyond my control— what can I do?” look which didn't quite pass muster.
May's black brow notched. The man was getting decidedly frisky. And if he thought he was crawling into bed with her buck naked, he had another think coming. There was no chance she was going to wake up in the morning wrapped up with an in-the-raw Hunter.
She marched to the bathroom, where he had slung the clothes he'd washed over the shower rod. Hunter followed behind warily. May looked like she meant business.
Spotting the paisley silk, she whipped the shorts off the rack and grabbed her blow dryer. Adjusting the heat setting to low, she held the very edge of the garment up between two fingers as if it might bite her at any moment and blasted the dampness right out of it.
Hunter's lips parted slightly. Now, why hadn't he ever thought of that? His second thought was: foiled.
May turned to him with his boxers dangling from her index finger. The arrangement of her features was definitely smug. “There you go— nice and dry.”
Sheepishly, Hunter reached for them. “Ah, yeah. Thanks.”
Once again, when they got into bed they turned their backs to each other.
Just before May drifted off, she asked him in the darkness, “Chester?”
Hunter smiled, drowsy. “Nope.” He rubbed his silk-covered backside against her flannel-covered one before falling into a restful sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Hunter tossed a piece of apple to Benny, then crunched into his fourth apple of the day. And it was only late afternoon. He was getting mighty sick of apples.
Well, beggars couldn't be choosers. Desultorily he wolfed down the fruit. He was starving.
Those frozen meals were not enough for him, even though May had been giving him two of the tiny cuisine meals every night.
His silver gaze wandered to the windows. It had stopped snowing this morning but it was a real mess out there. There was no chance of getting to his car. Not without boots and a plow.
He looked down at his wardrobe. May had dug out a pair of her black sweat pants this morning after he discovered that the red velvet suit was now a free-standing sculpture. They fit him like a second skin and only came to mid-calf on him, but he had been determined to ram down into them.
There was a faint floral perfume to the pants which evoked May. The fact that he was inside them, surrounded by the scent, made him… bulge. A situation made more blatant by the stretchy material.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing it were something else. Something May.
This morning she had been been draped over his back, her cheek using his shoulder as a pillow. One of her small hands had found its way around his waist to rest flat against his lower stomach, just above the band of his shorts.
In his sleep his hand had come over hers, making sure she didn't leave the needy spot. He was uncomfortably aroused and had a hell of a time disengaging himself from her without waking her up.
The memory of it alone was enough to get him going again.
Frustrated, he grabbed up another book. Rough Possession was the title. Hunter quickly threw it down and picked up another. Day for Knight. That sounded innocuous enough.
He began to read.
Across the room, May furtively eyed Hunter.
He was engrossed in his book and he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her.
Good.
Her hand inched slowly to the stack of papers on her lap. The stack that was hiding the half-eaten package of M&M's she had found in the bottom of her purse this morning.
She was starving.
In desperation she had tackled her pocketbook for booty and had come up with a small treasure trove.
Covertly she rooted around in the little bag, her finger snagging the small candy-coated jewel. Glancing his way one more time to be certain the coast was clear, she secretively brought the nugget of heaven to her mouth where she sucked on it for five minutes, savoring every molecule.
When it was over, her eyes were dilated with chocolate satisfaction.
Hunter was still engaged in the book. And looking damn fine, she thought resentfully. Those black sweat pants had been a mistake. Instead of covering him up and removing temptation from her sight, they seemed to be doing the opposite. The clingy material delineated every muscle in his strong thighs.
Every muscle.
May fanned herself with a sheet of paper. Hunter was packing.
She rummaged around for another M&M.
“What are you eating?”
May's head snapped up, her face flaming guiltily. “What?”
Hunter's silver eyes narrowed. “Don't what me— you've got something stashed away under those papers. What is it?” He tossed his book down. Rising to his feet, he began stalking her.
She didn't know why she did what she did.
There must have been a little devil on her shoulder.
She looked the publisher square in the eye and, parting her lips, she stuck out her tongue and flaunted the yellow M&M at him.
It was like waving a red flag at a bull.
Hunter charged her.
Squealing, May bolted out of her chair and took off. The papers and the candy package which had been on her lap toppled to the floor.
Hunter stopped briefly to grab the empty M&M wrapper. Then he turned and sets his sight
s on her.
“Last one,” May taunted around the candy in her mouth.
Hunter lunged for her.
If she hadn't backed herself against a wall she might have escaped.
His palms came down on either side. He pinned her in place with the lower half of his body. Even through her jeans, May had no trouble feeling the hardness that pressed against her. Her breath caught in her throat.
She looked up into his face. A lock of mahogany hair had fallen over his forehead, giving his face a definite rakish cast.
As he bent his head, May noted that he didn't seem to be thinking about candy anymore. By the glint in those silvery eyes, it appeared that Hunter had decided to substitute one gratification for another.
May squeaked, the sound distorted by the candy in her mouth. “Hunter, you shouldn't—”
His mouth sizzled over hers.
There really was no other way to describe it.
A hot flame shot down the center of her body to her toes. Which began to wiggle.
May moaned into his mouth. There was only one other man who had ever made her toes wiggle… and not nearly this much.
Hunter removed one of his hands from the wall and cupped the back of her head, holding her to him. He strengthened the kiss, probing between her slightly parted lips with his tongue. Sinking deeper and deeper with every delving thrust, he forced her to open her mouth wider, to accept him…
He plunged into her with rough expertise, neither too naive nor too practiced. His movements were honest and raw. He explored her thoroughly, leaving her totally breathless and wanting more Hunter.
May thought he tasted sweeter than any candy, and she clutched at his shoulders to bring him closer.
This time it was Hunter who groaned. His other hand left the wall to capture her waist, clasping her tight against him.
She didn't know how long the kiss went on but when they came up for air, May was feeling somewhat disoriented. She placed her palm against his chest to steady herself.
He was breathing heavily, but was curiously silent. Warily she glanced up at him.
His eyes glimmered with heat and… something akin to mischief. He quirked his brow in a cocky way, then slowly opened his mouth.
The yellow M&M dangled impudently from his tongue.
“Hunter!”
He grinned roguishly at her.
“That was a dirty trick!”
“Mmm… best M&M I ever had,” he drawled. He made a great show of savoring the candy, even to the point of licking his lips when he was done.
May's face flamed.
He chuckled, leaning back into her. “Seconds?” he asked innocently.
“No!” She shoved his chest, pushing him away.
“You mean you don't like the heated press of my masculine lips against the soft fullness of your ripened mouth?” He spoke from behind her.
“Don't you dare!” she gritted out, refusing to look at him.
“Surely you felt the savage intensity of my raging hunger as I claimed you with the brand of my desire?”
“You are horrible!” She walked to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
His low laughter followed her.
May winced. The truth was she had felt all those things.
She splashed cold water on her face.
Chapter Seventeen
“What's wrong with Benny?”
Hunter had just come out of his nightly shower and when he bent down next to her, May caught a whiff of soap and after-shave. Old Spice. Billy's choice, she knew; Hunter was definitely not the type to buy Old Spice.
For some reason, the spicy scent reminded her that it was Christmas Eve.
She delicately inhaled more of the scent. It brought her back to her childhood when she had lived by the coast in a small New England fishing village. A lot of the men had worn Old Spice back then, and she rather liked the old-fashioned scent.
The word old-fashioned brought to mind how gentlemanly Hunter had been these last few nights, letting her shower first, giving her best crack at the hot water, which had a tendency to suddenly give out.
She adjusted her nightgown as she sat cross-legged on the floor.
“He has a tummy ache.” She continued to rub the dachshund's belly.
Benny lay on his back, short feet up in the air, in what May was beginning to think of as his dead cockroach position. The wiener dog's expression was a carefully balanced blend of ecstasy at what she was doing— combined with the sad “I'm a poor puppy” face which instantly produced a feeling of guilt in humans.
“How did he get an upset stomach?” Hunter had the nerve to ask that seriously.
May threw him a look. “How many pieces of apple did you give him today?”
A dull bronze colored his cheekbones. “I… ah… don't remember.”
Benny gave a little whimper right on cue.
Hunter was consumed with remorse. “Hey, there, fellah.” His hand joined hers on the dog's belly, rubbing. “Will he be all right?”
With all the attention, Benny was in puppy heaven and trying hard not to show it, while the man leaning over him had an expression of concern which only comes from an owner of a beloved pet. May smiled inwardly. Hunter was as good as gotten.
“Yes, but you shouldn't keep tossing him food; he probably can't eat so many strange combinations.”
Hunter nodded, continuing to rub the dog's stomach with her. Every now and then their hands brushed against each other.
“How come you didn't do this for me when I had a tummy ache?” Hunter murmured next to her ear.
“Because you don't keep my feet warm at night,” she replied without thinking.
May realized her mistake as soon as she saw those dark lashes lift languorously and those silvery eyes met her own.
There was such a frankly sexual look in them that her breath stopped in her throat.
“I'd be happy to keep you warm at night.”
He did it. He spoke in a husky murmur.
And it sounded exactly the way she had imagined a perfectly executed husky murmur would sound. It even sent shivers down her spine.
He leaned toward her just a bit, and May knew he was going to kiss her. Instinctively she moved her head back a few inches.
His hand came over hers on top of Benny.
His other hand cupped the back of her neck, bringing her up against his descending mouth in a seamless move. She opened her mouth to attempt to object, but Hunter was already there.
His lips covered hers in a gentle press that was somehow persuasive at the same time. The tender act turned May into.… a bowl of mush.
Her mouth softened beneath his, returning his kiss.
Like any red-blooded man, Hunter took this as encouragement. He went from softly coaxing to “seize-the-moment fire” in the blink of an eye.
May gasped. What were they doing? She began to pull back.
“Hunter, stop!” She tried to speak between the molten imprint of his ongoing kisses. It was almost impossible; the man was definitely charged up.
“We shouldn't be doing this,” she managed to croak just before he swept inside her mouth, staking a devastating claim. She moaned in response.
“Why not?” he whispered a few seconds later, not stopping in the least.
The question had been rhetorical, but May attempted to respond any way. “Be-because… you're only doing this because you're hungry! You're substituting—”
He chuckled, a low rumble against her lips. “I'm hungry all right.” His mouth moved along her jawline to her throat.
May sucked in her breath. That was a very sensitive area. She closed her eyes, desperately trying again. “You see? You admitted it. You've been complaining how starving—”
He stopped. Raising his head, he looked at her, desire and something akin to amusement lighting his features.
With his lips a mere heartbeat away from hers, he purred, “I'm hungry for May.”
Then his mouth seized hers and that wa
s the end of that objection.
How did the man kiss like that? May was devastated and knew it. Especially since her toes were wiggling like mad under the hem of her nightgown.
His lips moved back to her throat, and May actually arched her throat to give him better access.
Hunter breathed in her flowery scent and went as hard as a brick.
Earlier, in the bathroom, he had opened her jar of floral scented cream and had inhaled deeply. It had not had the same effect on him and he realized that it needed the added factor of May. Her personal, sexy scent which had been driving him crazy since that first night.
His mouth closed over the spot of tender skin under her ear and he felt her tremble. She was responding to him.
“Hunter… ” It was the sound of a woman in the throes of desire; however, there was the faintest hint of underlying protest.
He did not want her to stop him. Not now. Not ever. C. Hunter Douglas wanted May “Forrester” Bea.
So, clever strategist that he was, he decided to make absolutely sure of her compliance.
He was going to pull all the stops out and completely test his new theory. He was going to follow the directions that had been handed to him in the books he'd read. He was going to make love to her with romance.
He leaned over and, gathering her in his arms, he stood, without breaking the kiss. It was not an easy thing to do from a sitting position, but Hunter was a strong, large man. He hoped the small pop he heard in his back had been the settling of his joints and not a disc compressing.
Benny gave one bark of protest at the loss of his belly rub, then gave up, apparently recognizing when it was pointless for a dog to bid for attention.
Hunter carried her to the bed, gently depositing her in its center. He immediately came over her, his silk boxers sliding against the flannel of her gown.
His mouth fused with hers as he laced his fingers through her hair and kissed her senseless.
May's hands reached for his bare shoulders. They were muscular and hard, yet so very warm.… And the way the man kissed should be illegal!