Hunter and you both walk down to the pool, and it looks like you have the place to yourselves. Those naughty thoughts you were having earlier come back in full force. The empty pool gives you plenty of other ideas about how you could wake up.
He sits at the edge of the pool and you dive into the deep end, sliding under the water into a silent world of watery calm. When you pop back up on the surface your mouth drops open and then twists down hard in the corners as you see a sexy woman sitting down next to your man, you mean Hunter. It’s not just that she’s sitting next to him, she’s clearly flirting. The way she keeps touching his arm and giggling. It makes you boil up inside, anger swelling in your chest.
You swim over to Hunter and force yourself to smile. “Hey, come on in. The water is nice.” You look up at him.
He looks drained. Like all the happiness and life he has been bursting with since you met him has been sucked dry. You look over at the bombshell blonde, who’s watching you like you’re a mouse that just crawled out of her kitchen cupboard.
“Myra, this is my beautiful fiancée, Meghan.”
“Oh, I see.” The way she says it is so cold you’re suddenly chilly.
“Hey.” Your voice is flat. You’ve lived in Hollywood for years, you know a judgmental, snarky bitch when you see one. The way she’s looking at you is like someone who’s sniffing at a container of milk to check if it’s spoiled. You didn’t like Myra before, based on what Hunter told you, but now you can’t stand her.
“Um, ‘hey’ yourself. Didn’t you do well? Getting engaged to Hunter. It must be so nice for you to have a man like him.” She doesn’t come out and say the words, but her meaning is clear: a man who’s better than you.
“Yeah, I think I’ll hang onto him. I’d be a fool to toss away someone so sweet and sexy.” You look up at him and he gives you a wink that almost makes you melt. Suddenly, you’re sick of Myra. Not just Myra, but all the bitches like her you’ve met over the years. The ones who tell you you’re pretty for a girl with, fill in the blank.
“Oh, aren’t you pretty for a girl your size.”
“Such a pretty face.”
“You’re pretty for an older girl.”
Fuck them. And fuck her.
“Plus, the way he keeps me up all night, well, honey, I won’t be letting go of a man who makes me feel that good anytime soon.” You reach out and slide your hand up Hunter’s leg and then grab his hand, tugging him into the pool next to you. The fact the water splashes her in the face wasn’t planned, but fuck, does it ever make you smile.
“Ugh!” Myra frets about like a human cat that just got pushed in a bathtub.
You’re so caught up in the theatrics, you don’t even notice the man who walks up to her. Not until you hear his voice.
“Hey, babe, I’m done in the sauna. How about we get back upstairs and have one more romp before the big ceremony?” Bryce smirks down at Myra.
Your jaw hangs open so far that some pool water gets in your mouth and you sputter. Seriously? Bryce is her fiancé? The same Bryce who was just trying to buy you shots so he could see you naked? Your coughing makes his eyes narrow down into the pool on you and he steps back with surprise when he sees you.
You give him a little wave and tilt your head as wicked thoughts swim as freely as you do in this pool. Myra is obviously a condescending bitch who broke Hunter’s heart. Maybe you should let her know just how bad of a life choice she made and fill her in on Bryce’s offer last night. Or you could be happy to know she’s marrying the exact guy she clearly deserves. Besides, you did accidentally splash her in the face when you pulled Hunter in the pool. That was a little victory too.
Your thoughts bounce back and forth in your mind. What should you do? Lay down some serious, eye-opening snark? Or leave it be?
Chapter 5
“Babe, don’t be rude,” Myra purrs at him. “Say hi to Hunter and, sorry, what’s your name again? It slipped my mind.” She literally looks down her nose at you in the pool.
Bryce has gone about three shades paler as he watches you. It’s almost as if you can see his thoughts playing out on his face. He’s practically waiting with his breath held, wondering if you’re about to rat him out.
“Hey, Bryce.” You smirk and he winces painfully. “Long time no see. We graduated high school together. I’m not sure if you remember.” You have to stop yourself from bursting out laughing as you watch him come to the realization that you just threw him a lifeline. Sure, you could’ve watched him drown in a sea of misery he caused himself, but he is marrying Myra. You’re sure he’ll be plenty miserable for years to come.
“Yeah.” He rubs his hand over the back of his neck and nervously darts his eyes down to his bride-to-be before looking back at you. “Meghan, right?”
You nod.
“Go Eagles, right?” He chants the rallying cry you haven’t heard since you walked down the busy halls of your high school.
“We should probably get back to the room.” Hunter pulls you into him possessively. He wraps his arms around you and twirls you in a slow, weightless circle in the pool.
Your fake smile slides off your face and is replaced by very real desire. You press back into him and get lost in the simple pleasure that just being held by Hunter can bring. For a moment, the audience, the pool, and everything around you fades. You’re lost in the warmth of his embrace. You’re overtaken by how comforting and how incredibly peaceful you feel in his arms. Do you feel a surge of desire too? Of course. Just looking at Hunter makes every cell in your body dance with life. But this feeling of being exactly where you’re supposed to be. Of being safe. Of being so much more than a temporary fake fiancée. It’s impossible not to get lost in it.
“Mmmm, let’s go.” Now you’re the one purring. You catch a quick glimpse of Myra’s twisted, sour face as you and Hunter head toward the pool stairs and it makes this moment that much sweeter.
“Congratulations, you two,” you call out over your shoulder as you wrap the towel Hunter handed you over your dried off body. “You are really just perfect together.” You smile.
Myra sits up a bit straighter and flips her hair over her shoulder with a sniff as Bryce comically tenses up like a human cardboard cutout of himself.
You walk out of the room with Hunter and can’t help but giggle.
He looks over his shoulder and then down at you. “Tell me I’m not imagining things, but wasn’t that the same guy who was talking to you at the bar?”
“Exact same guy.” You laugh. Same guy as last night, same guy as the piece of crap who left you heartbroken and dateless for the prom. Same guy he’ll be when Myra catches him fucking around with the nanny in five more years. A leopard can’t change his spots.
“That’s what I thought.”
Hunter grows silent and you stop feeling the wonderful high that’s been surging through your veins. He looks like he’s deep in thought. Is he okay with all of this? You’re ashamed that you didn’t really wonder what he was feeling, being faced by the woman who broke off their engagement while he was on deployment. This might not give him the same sense of satisfaction or feel the same kind of karmic ass-kicking it does to you.
Wordlessly Hunter opens the door to the hotel room and holds it open for you to come inside. He paces around the floor and you watch him closely. Clearly he’s working something out and you don’t want to interrupt him. Still, you need to apologize.
“Hey, um, sorry if that was weird or whatever,” you start, but he grabs you so fast all you can do is gasp.
Hunter lifts you from the floor and blankets your lips in the most intense kiss you’ve ever felt. You would think he was heading off overseas now. His lips part yours and you sink into him as his tongue explores your mouth.
“Don’t be. I’m glad we ran into them,” Hunter finally answers you, gently putting you back down on the floor.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, that was exactly what I needed. You know what? I’m not going to their wedding.�
� He juts out his jaw and a fire burns behind his dark eyes.
“Really? Why?”
“Well, I only wanted to go to prove to myself I could move on. That whole closure thing, you know?”
You nod.
“But, I don’t think I’ll have any problem moving on at all now.” He drags his thumb over your bottom lip but then stops and studies your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you lie. You don’t want to tell him the truth. That you aren’t ready for him to stop needing you. That you expected to spend the rest of the day with him and it makes your heart hurt to think about leaving now.
“I think we could both use some fresh air.” He runs his hand over your hair and leans in, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. “What do you say we take a spin and grab some food somewhere?”
“I’d say that sounds perfect.” Joy bursts inside your chest like little bubbles in a champagne glass. Hunter wants more time with you too. He’s not ready to see you go either.
The two of you quickly dress and you tie back your damp hair in a low-slung ponytail rather than waste a bunch of time blow drying it out. Hunter looks like the bad boy every good girl dreams of in his fitted jeans and leather jacket. You can’t help looking at him like the delicious eye candy he is. You have half a mind to drop your clothes back down onto the floor and toss your panties on top, begging him to fuck you, but you blink and manage to get the fantasy under control.
“Ready?”
For you. For your cock. For your hands on my body. For your lips on my skin. For your weight sinking between my legs. Yes.
“I am.” Your voice crackles and you clear your throat.
“Good, let’s go.”
Chapter 6
The two of you slink out of the hotel like a couple of high school kids cutting class. It’s weird how taking off with him has that same feeling of exhilaration or adventure. It’s like anything is possible with him, even if it’s only fleeting. Just like when you used to cut school, you know real life and real consequences are waiting for you, and you must face them eventually, but right now you only care about the present.
You follow Hunter to where he parked his motorcycle yesterday and hop on the back, holding him tight. The roar of the engine can be heard clearly, even through his helmet he insisted you wear. He pulls out of the parking lot and onto the busy city streets with ease.
Normally you’d be twisted up inside, wondering where he’s taking you. Wondering what he has planned. Wondering if you’ll like it or whatever. However, right now, you’re just enjoying the sensation of his bike rumbling between your thighs and his hard body pressed into yours. It’s so reassuring to hold on to him. He’s like a pillar, like a rock. Your rock. And you’re not ready to let him go.
Hunter glides through Phoenix easily, navigating the congested roads like he’s been living here his entire life. Perhaps he did, before he joined the military. You stop at a red light and the smell of fat and sugar tempt your senses. Your stomach gurgles loudly and you turn your head toward the funky donut shop, smiling when Hunter pulls in there. He parks the bike and helps you off the back before leading you to the door and opening it up for you before you have a chance to try to reach for the handle.
“After you.” His eyes twinkle and you scoot through the open door before him, knowing full well he’s scoping out your ass as you do.
“This is my favorite place to grab donuts and coffee.” He nods up toward the board behind the counter with all the selections written on it in chalk. “They do all kinds of crazy ones, not just the regular chocolate or jelly filled. Like, I’m getting the Cap’n Crunch one and the Dead Elvis.” He points to the huge donuts under the glass.
“The Dead Elvis?” Your eyebrow shoots up.
“It’s so good, you have to try a bite. It’s filled with custard and has peanut butter and jelly drizzle on top and then bacon chunks to top it off.” He looks from you to the lady behind the counter. “Can I grab one of those and that one there.” He points at the largest donut you’ve ever seen. “And a couple coffees too, please.” He smiles and she lights up.
“Absolutely,” she answers cheerfully.
You study the board. There are a lot of options and they all sound incredibly decadent. Finally you decide on one.
“I’ll have a wasabi-blueberry donut, please.”
The girl behind the counter is much less enthusiastic about grabbing your order, but she does it anyway.
“Wasabi-blueberry?” Hunter makes a face.
“I guess I like a little spice with my sweet,” you murmur.
“So, just to make sure I have this straight, you’re more of a sausage girl who likes it spicy and sweet, is that right?” He wiggles his eyebrows and you burst out laughing.
“If you’re keeping track, then, yeah, you’re right.” You giggle.
“Oh, I’m keeping track.” He smirks at you and then pays the girl who got the order together. She looks at him like this transaction is the highlight of her day, and since the day is early, it probably is. But her shy smile and flushed cheeks tell you it’s more like the highlight of her week.
You wrap your arm through Hunter’s and walk with him to a table across the shop. He takes off his leather coat as you both sit down and you soak in how his tight, white T-shirt clings to him. You twist up one of your fingers in your ponytail, playing with your hair as you possessively own him with your shameless stare.
He doesn’t miss your look. Straightening up in his chair, he leans into you. “See something you like?”
“You know I do,” you answer truthfully.
“God, you’ve got some kind of crazy power.” His voice is tight.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, just a look from you has me so fucking hard, my cock might burst through my jeans. That’s some high school shit right there. I haven’t had so little control since I was a bumbling teen surging with hormones.”
“I like that I can do that.” You don’t break eye contact with him. Instead, you lift up your donut and lick a long, sensual line with your tongue over the glaze. It was meant to be sexy. To be suggestive. But as your eyes line with water and you stick out your tongue like a cartoon dog, waving at it with both hands, it’s anything but those things. You completely forgot about the wasabi in the icing! Damn, your sinuses run and fat tears squeeze from your eyes as you swallow the burning concoction.
Hunter can’t help but laugh. He’s practically busting his gut and struggling to stay on his chair. Tears are also lining his eyes, but they aren’t like the ones traveling over your cheeks. You take a huge mouthful of your coffee and luckily it isn’t hot enough to add insult to injury. It helps wash away the heat of the glaze, but it does nothing to wash away the heat of your embarrassment. You can feel the stain of red that’s climbed your neck and cast over your face.
“I’m sorry.” Hunter manages to speak through his laughter. “That was just, oh my God, your face!” He cracks up again and you sulk across the table from him.
“I’m glad you found it funny.” You purse your lips together into a flat line.
“Oh, don’t be like that. What would you do if it was the other way around and that happened to me?”
You play it out in your mind and you can’t help but join him in his laughter. He’s right, it was ridiculous.
“Thanks, I needed that.” He finally manages to get himself under control. He takes a huge bite of his Dead Elvis donut and then holds it out to you. “Give it a try,” he talks to you with a full mouth.
You look at him skeptically but lean in and bite off a piece. It’s a lot nicer of a flavor burst than the wasabi icing. “Mmm.” You nod enthusiastically as you savor the bacon and peanut butter mixed in with custard. “That is good!”
“See?”
Suddenly the old, ingrained habits from living in LA haunt you. Whispering doubts and criticisms in your ear. You can’t help but frown as you mentally try to tally the calories in this stuff.
“What’s wrong? You look upset.” Hunter narrows his eyes at you.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” He drops his donut and focuses on only you. “Spill it.”
“I guess I was just thinking how last night I had beer and pizza and today I’m eating donuts.” You shrug. “I just don’t want to end up looking like Elvis in his Vegas lounge singer days.”
Hunter laughs but stops when he sees you aren’t joking. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? How long did you say you lived out west? They got to you. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, Meghan. Nothing you change, not your hair or your clothes or your waistline is gonna change that. You do remember you can make my dick hard with just a look, right?” he murmurs.
Your lips cock into a half smile as pride swells up inside you. It will probably take a while to fully shake off the nonsense that casting directors have put in your head, but Hunter sure has a way of putting things back in clear focus.
“Thanks.” You beam at him. “Still, I don’t want any more of this one.” You push away the burning donut of death you licked. “But I’ll take another bite of yours, if you’ll share?” You tilt your head and Hunter holds it out to you, like a groom offering the first bite of wedding cake to his wife.
“You’re lucky you’re so damned beautiful,” he growls. “I don’t just share my Dead Elvis with anyone.”
“That sounds really weird.” You laugh and take a bite.
“Yeah? Well, let’s get out of here before it gets weirder. I don’t need Moby springing up and making it worse.” Hunter stands up and takes a long gulp of his coffee before tossing the empty cup and napkin his donuts were on in the trash.
“Moby?”
“You know, Moby Dick?” He nods down to his tight jeans and gives you a wink. You can’t help but laugh. “He’s my white whale.” He smirks.
“You got that right.” You shake your head and toss your uneaten donut and follow Hunter back out to his motorcycle.
“Come on, I’ve got somewhere I want to show you.” He helps you back onto his bike and carefully secures his helmet over your head.
Night Time Rendez-Vous: 3 sizzling novellas that will keep you up all night Page 9