The Boyfriend Diaries: A Romance Box Set Collection

by S. E. Law

  Hunter smirks and I could slap him. Literally, my fingers twitch at my side.

  “It’s a pleasure,” Hunter says smoothly, giving me a long, appreciative look as he reaches across the table to shake my hand. I have to fight not to do something crazy. I hope to god nothing seems off to either of our parents. “I think we’re going to get along just fine, Frankie,” Hunter continues slyly, and before he lets go of me, I feel one of his fingers brushing the inside of my wrist. It sends a delicious shiver up my spine and bite my lip to keep from gasping.

  I look around and realize too late that the only seat left at the table is the one right next to Hunter. Feeling stiff and on edge, I drop into the chair, acutely aware of his presence next to me. How is he so composed?

  More importantly, how am I supposed to get through this meal, let alone the rest of the summer? Hell, the rest of my life, if things between my mom and George are actually serious? I can’t believe this is my new stepbrother.

  As if reading my mind, Hunter turns to me and smirks, that same crooked smile he had on his face last night. He looks like he’s about to say something when Mom says, “So, Hunter, tell us a little about yourself. Your dad says you’re an entrepreneur?”

  He gives her a polite smile and nods.

  “That’s right. I founded a company called Revival Footwear. Maybe you’ve-”

  She cuts him off, her face lighting up.

  “Oh my god, you’re kidding! I have four pairs of your shoes, I think. Frankie, can you believe this?” She turns to me, but before I can answer, she’s back to fawning over Hunter. “So successful for someone so young! How old are you, anyway?”

  “Thirty,” Hunter replies. If I thought my cheeks couldn’t get any redder, I was wrong.

  “You know, Frankie here is a junior at Berkeley,” Mom is saying. “Maybe you could give her some advice about transitioning to post-college life.” She looks between the two of us, me staring at my lap and Hunter, as cool and composed as ever, looking like the cat that ate the canary. “Go ahead, Frankie. Say something. I have a feeling you guys are going to get along well.”

  Too well, I think, and that’s when I feel Hunter’s hand on my thigh.

  I start, jerking in my seat like I’ve been given an electric shock. But Hunter’s not even looking at me. He’s looking innocently at my mom, like nothing’s wrong.

  “I agree completely, Ms. Fordham,” he says. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you guys.”

  “Please, Hunter, call me Gertie,” Mom says, flapping a hand at him. “We’ll be family soon; no need for the formalities.”

  “You’ve got it, Gertie,” Hunter says, and as he speaks, I feel his hand travel further up my leg. I turn to look at him, and he meets my eyes, his eyebrow quirking up just a little. I could swear I see the hint of a smile on his face, but it’s not enough for either of the adults at the table to notice. I can feel my face heating up again, only just having cooled down from the initial shock of seeing him here, and his blue eyes are like fire in the dim light of the restaurant.

  “So, Frankie,” George says, turning to me. It’s my turn to be interrogated now, and I couldn’t be in a worse position if I tried. “What made you decide to come back to Granite Heights for the summer?”

  Struggling to keep my composure, I reply.

  “I guess it’s mostly because my friends from high school are here. I figure I’ll see all of my college friends when I get back in the fall, so this is a good opportunity to-”

  I gasp, my eyes going wide. Hunter’s hand has slid up higher, and is resting dangerously close to the hem of my skirt. Why did I wear a skirt? More importantly, why am I not moving his hand? I can feel his eyes on me, under heavy lids, that same almost-smirk still on his face. He’s teasing me, I realize in shock.

  “Are you okay, Frankie?” Mom says, peering at me closely. I turn to her, acutely aware of how warm Hunter’s hand is. “You’ve gone red.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, struggling to keep my voice level, “I just remembered something. A… a summer reading assignment. Talking about school reminded me.”

  “Oh,” says George, brow furrowing. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought it up.”

  “Yeah,” I say, giving him a strained smile. “A really good thing.”

  The rest of the meal continues that way, with both of our parents asking us questions and talking excitedly to one another, completely oblivious to my embarrassment and Hunter’s dirty touches. His hand remains on my thigh the entire meal, just grazing the hem of my skirt, and I don’t once try to move it. I would be lying if I said the danger wasn’t sexy.

  What the hell is going on with me, anyway?

  Eventually George pays the check and we all stand up, filing out of the restaurant. Hunter shoots a glance over his shoulder at me, making me duck my head, and I see a satisfied grin cross his face as we head out the door. Back in the parking lot, my mom spreads her arms to Hunter.

  “This is so exciting,” she enthuses. “Come here, Hunter. Can I give you a hug?”

  He smiles politely. “Sure, Mrs. - I mean, sure, Gertie.” He goes to her and gives her a brief hug, his eyes flashing at me as he does so.

  George extends a hand to me, smiling warmly.

  “It really has been nice to meet you, Frankie. I’m glad that we could finally get together like this. I want this to work out, and I would have been disappointed if we couldn’t all see how we got along before your mother and I tie the knot.” He nods at me approvingly and then turns to Mom so they can debrief on how the meal went.

  “Well, Frankie,” Hunter says, deliberately exaggerating the sound of my name. That wicked glint is back in his eyes, and he spreads his arms. “It was great to meet you.”

  “Great to meet you too, Hunter,” I say, and even though I feel tentative at first, I can’t stop my feet from moving and crossing over to him. I want to feel his toned abs against my body again, and the feeling of his hand on my leg has been at the forefront of my mind. Hoping I don’t come across as too casual with someone I’m supposed to have only just met, I wrap my arms around him in what I’m guessing will look like a friendly hug.

  It’s fine. He’s huge and warm, and I lean briefly into his embrace. Then, I move to pull away, but Hunter holds me close, his strong arms still wrapped around my back. I glance over at Mom and George, who are still in their own little world, talking animatedly to one another. They don’t seem to notice the fact that their soon-to-be step children are embracing like they’ve known each other a lot longer than one evening.

  Then I gasp, hissing as my body spasms. Hunter’s hand has dropped between us and gone under the top of my skirt. My eyes go wide, and I pull back to look him in the eyes. His expression is unreadable, and he’s still aggravatingly calm as he slides his hand lower under the fabric, his body obscuring what he’s doing - both to our parents and to everyone else in the parking lot. I suck in a breath as I feel him toying with the hem of my panties, and after a moment’s consideration, his hand slithers further in so it’s flush with my exposed pussy.

  My cheeks go red for the millionth time in the past hour when I realize that I’m soaking wet, all just from being near him, from feeling his hand on my leg. And now, Hunter can feel it, too.

  The corner of his mouth turns up and I feel him run his hand over me before dipping a finger between my lips and sliding it back up the length of my womanhood. His finger settles on my clit and remains still for a moment that feels like a lifetime before beginning to move in slow, tight circles. I feel taser shocks racing up and down my body, going weak in the knees, and all the details of where we are or who we’re with have gone out of my mind. I’m paralyzed, lost in the sensation of him fingering me, and I have to stifle the noise that comes out of me when he dips a finger inside me.

  Fuck, I think. Oh, fuck.

  I bite my lip to keep from moaning, the area below my stomach heating up, struggling not to move even though I’m desperate for more friction. How is
he doing this? How is he managing to make me come undone at the seams, without even breaking a sweat? And why doesn’t he seem to care that our parents, who are going to be married soon, are standing less than ten feet away from us, capable of turning around at any minute?

  But there’s something sexy about the danger, and that’s why I don’t pull away. Still, I feel like I’m coming unglued from the pleasure that’s shooting through me, the same pleasure he made me feel last night, for the first time, ever. I’m frozen in time, unable to bring myself to move.

  When I feel climax building, threatening to come tumbling down on me at any moment, Hunter withdraws his hand from my panties. He holds it in the air between us, glistening with my fluids, and he looks down at it appreciatively before saying in a low, husky voice, “This is going to be fun.”

  And then he’s turning back around to join his father, who has finally finished his goodbye to my mom.

  “Well,” Hunter says, still unbelievably cool under the circumstances. “Are you ready, Dad?”

  George nods and claps his hand on Hunter’s back.

  “Let’s go.” He raises a hand to me once more, smiling politely, and then they turn and make their way towards a silver Range Rover that’s parked not far from Mom’s car. After they zoom off, Gertrude turns to me with a bright smile on her face.

  “Well?” Mom asks, turning to me and putting her hands on her hips. “You were pretty quiet back there. What did you think of George and Hunter?”

  Oh, Mom, I think. If only you knew.

  116

  Hunter

  I’m quiet during the drive home, and I think Dad notices.

  “What is it?” he asks finally.

  “Hmm?” I turn to look at him, not having been listening to his question. “What is what?”

  He gestures at me with a hand.

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You seem really distracted, Hunter. I know you said you had a long night last night, but still. What’s going on?”

  “Dad,” I say. “It’s fine. Is there something else on your mind?”

  George snorts impatiently.

  “Nothing,” he replies. “I guess I was just worried you wouldn’t like them. That’s all.”

  “What?” I raise my eyebrows. “No, no, no. Dad, don’t worry. I like them just fine.”

  “Then why were you so quiet during the meal?” he asks. “You’re usually the life of the party, so to speak.”

  I clear my throat.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just really wanted to listen to Gertie and Frankie. I figure if they’re going to be family, I should probably learn as much about them as I can, you know?”

  “That’s fair,” George says, seeming to relax a little. “So you liked them okay, then?”

  “Definitely,” I say, nodding. “I’m glad you’ve found someone you get along with so well. It’s been a while since Mom.”

  “It has, hasn’t it?” asks George reflectively. “But Gertrude has really made me feel like a human being again. She matters and she cares so much about so many different things, from wildlife conservation to the City Council’s annual budget. And what about Frankie?” Dad asks. “I thought you guys might have more to talk about, but you guys seemed pretty quiet.”

  “Yeah,” I dissemble vaguely. “She looks so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Hmm,” Dad says. “Well, I guess it’s just one of those things. Anyway, I hope tomorrow you’ll be more talkative.”

  I raise my eyebrows, turning to look at him.

  “Tomorrow? What’s going on tomorrow?”

  Dad nods.

  “Didn’t you hear what Gertie and I were talking about back in the parking lot?”

  “No,” I say. I wasn’t listening at all. My mind was consumed by how delicious Frankie’s pussy felt against my fingers, and how wet she was for me. “I was busy saying goodbye to Frankie.”

  “Well, that’s good, I guess,” George rumbles. “Anyway, we’re going over to their place tomorrow for wine and cheese. I think it would be a good idea to get to know them better in a less formal setting. I hope you don’t mind that I said you would come along, too.”

  “Of course not,” I mutter, smirking a little. “I’d love to.” The truth is, I have about a million things to get done over the next few days, but suddenly, none of them feel important in the slightest. I could let it all go for a month at this point and not be broken up about it because I feel like the universe has conspired to bring me and Frankie back together. All day today I was thinking about the night we had, wishing there was a way to see her again even though it goes against every personal policy I’ve had ever since I started going to swinger parties. It’s supposed to be anonymous, no strings attached fun, but somehow, at some point, this girl got her hooks into me, and I don’t even know if she realizes how much. I want to claim her again as she moans my name. I want to get to know her. I want to be around her more. I don’t care how, or in what context, and I don’t care that at this point it’s becoming clear that I see her as more than a fling.

  None of that matters. All I know is that I want Frankie Fordham, possibly more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.

  When we get back to our house, the neighborhood is quiet. It’s funny how these quaint little suburban houses can hold such dirty secrets, but I guess that’s part of the fun of this whole sex club thing. They’re a chance to cast off your everyday life and be someone else for a while. Someone adventurous and filthy, with no holds barred. It’s like a game.

  Dad goes upstairs, but I linger in the living room, staring at the fireplace and thinking about the meal. I know that unfinished work is piling up as I sit here, and I’m going to have a headache to deal with in a day or so if I don’t address it, so in a desperate attempt to think about something other than Frankie for a few minutes, I pull out my laptop and begin to absently check my email again. It’s the least I can do, I figure.

  I listen to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the front room as I work, throwing myself into it, and soon, the moon’s rising in the sky outside the window. Before I know it, it’s going up on ten, and I can feel myself starting to nod off as I look over invoices, order confirmations, and meeting dates. I really need to get a secretary, I think. God knows I can afford it.

  It’s as my head is dropping against my chest, my eyes starting to drift close for the umpteenth time while I try to finish the last few email responses, that my cell phone rings. Frowning, I glance over at the seat next to me, where it’s vibrating over and over again. I don’t recognize the number on the screen, but that doesn’t mean much; it could be any one of my business contacts or colleagues. Shaking the sleep away and stretching for a moment, I reach over to pick it up and hold it up to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi!” It’s a female voice that sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t place where I recognize it from. “Is this Hunter Martin?”

  “Yeah,” I say, taking a deep breath and rolling my shoulders. “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “Right to business, I see,” the woman says, laughing. “Well, I should have figured. I’m Cassie Princeton - I think we met briefly at my party last night.”

  “Oh,” I say, and it all clicks into place. Cassie. The flirty, slim brunette woman who let me into the house when I arrived yesterday night. “That’s right. Sorry, Cassie. I, uh… I ran into a lot of people last night. It’s hard to keep them all straight.” I leave out the fact that the real reason I’m having trouble focusing is one person in particular.

  “Don’t sweat it,” Cassie says nonchalantly. “That’s kind of the point, right?” She chuckles again, a light, tinkling laugh that might once have had me intrigued, but it doesn’t do much for me this time. “Anyway,” she says, her tone turning businesslike, “I wanted to tell you how happy I was to have you show up. You’re famous in these circles. Or should I say infamous?”

  I laugh at that.

  “The pleasure was
all mine, really.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” she says, “because I’m having another get-together tonight, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming.”

  “Tonight?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Same place?”

  “Same place, same time,” she answers without missing a beat. “Maybe this time you and I could get to know each other a little better,” she says slyly.

  The corner of my mouth twitches a little. This could be just the distraction I need, something to get a sense of normality back in the aftermath of everything that’s happened with Frankie. The truth is, I’m reeling a little after finding out that she’s going to be my step-sister, and even though that’s not stopping me from fantasizing about everything I still want to do with her, maybe another party could be good for me right now.

  I open my mouth to tell her yes, but then stop myself. Then something twists in my breast, and I find myself saying words that even I can’t believe.

  “I’m sorry, Cassie,” I growl, “but I actually have something I need to do tomorrow. I can’t afford to be out too late.”

  What the hell? Since when is too late an issue for Hunter Martin?

  “It doesn’t have to go on late,” Cassie laughs, bargaining. “Just an hour? I’m sure the rest of my friends would love to have you there.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head, “but I can’t. I’ve still got a ton of work I need to catch up on. Maybe some other time, yeah?”

  “Okay,” she says, still very merry. “I’ll let you know the next time we’re having one, I guess. Don’t be a stranger, Hunter.”

  “Never,” I say, and hang up the phone. I stare at it for a long time before setting it down and running a hand through my hair. When have I ever turned down that kind of an opportunity? I would never have said no before… but that was before meeting my beautiful stepsister.