by Becca Taylor
“Hunter, don’t leave.”
I ignore it.
“Please, don’t walk away from me.”
I say nothing. I force myself not to respond. If I do, it won’t be pretty.
“Talk to me!” She screams it at the top of her lungs.
There is only one place I can go to get some peace and quiet. It was going to be a ‘renovate and sell’ project, but it is about to become my new home. I pause a minute before walking out the front door. “Goodbye, Gabby.”
MY WEEKEND SHOULD have been relaxing, but I spent most of the time aggravated. I cleaned out some shit in the house and made it comfortable enough for me to sleep and take a shower. Monday rolls around, and I go back to my workweek: prep, cook, clean. I’m still seething about what went down with Gabby.
Josh comes in along with the lunch crowd. We split grill duties at Butter My Bread, and he’s been a buddy of mine since as long as I can remember. Everyone thinks Mondays are the slowest days in the food service industry. For us, it’s busy as hell. Other than a quick grunt hello, I don’t talk. He gets it. We’ve been friends long enough for him to know that now’s not the time for bullshitting.
The crowd dies down long enough for me to get out from the back and grab a bottle of water from the cooler. The bell dings as the next customer comes in. She’s been coming in for a few months now. The first time I saw her, my heart jumped, and the breath I was taking lodged in my lungs. Every man here took notice of her that day. She was and still is drop-dead gorgeous. The minute I start to feel guilty for looking, I think of Gabby’s lips on another man.
A few weeks ago, I learned who she is. Turns out, not only is she friends with Bentley’s girl, Aly, but she is also friends with Caleb’s girl, Kat, too. Now, I have a name for the striking beauty—Alexia.
Lexi comes bouncing into the place because that’s what the woman does when she enters a room. She makes herself known. I force myself not to groan. Her sports bra is looped behind her neck and is cut low, showing off her perky breasts that move with each step she takes. Fuck me. My favorite part, however, is her fiery red hair. It’s piled high on the top of her head today, which is unfortunate. I like the way it looks trailing down her back.
Like every Monday, she’s dressed in running gear, which is usually pants and a tank top. But this is Florida. It’s damn hot here in the summer. And today, this woman is taking workout gear to a whole new level. Her shorts are bright green with white around the edges. That shit is too tight and way too short. When she bends to grab a bottle of water from the cooler, I can practically see the bottom of her perfectly round ass sticking out.
As I make my way back to the grill, she greets the guys with her secret fist bump before kissing them on the cheek. It pisses me off but only for a second. I have no rights to her or to her hot body. And fuck, her body is something else. Then she looks up at me with her gorgeous green eyes. “Hey, Hunter. Can I get my usual?”
Of course, I know her usual: grilled turkey, loaded with grilled vegetables, on whole grain bread, avocado instead of mayo, and grilled with coconut oil not butter.
I respond with my standard answer. “Anything you want, darling.” I throw in a wink for good measure.
She replies by fanning herself. I chuckle for the first time today until she talks again. “Hunter, when are you going to leave your girlfriend and run away with me?”
And goddamn, the only reason I don’t tell her I already have is because I know she’d ask Josh the same question if he were back here cooking, but he’s doing inventory in the walk-in fridge. “Darling, you don’t want me. I’m broken goods.”
Lexi presses herself higher on the counter, looks me up and down, and licks her lips. “You don’t look broken to me, Big Boy. You look more than fine.”
Goddamn motherfucking hell. My dick chooses that moment to perk up. You have no idea, Lexi.
The phone in my pocket vibrates, bringing me out of the moment. It’s like Gabby knows something because the same shit happens every Monday: she texts me at the exact same moment. There’s no need to look at it since every text from her has been the same.
I’m sorry. Take me back, please?
HUNTER WALKS OUT onto Aly’s deck; I want to follow him. He’s one good-looking male specimen. Tonight, one of my best friends is in a funk. I have many friends here in Florida, but I will drop everything for four girls: Kat, Aly, Jade, and Dani. Almost four years ago, we met at a club and just clicked. Some of us have been friends longer than that, but it didn’t matter.
Dani couldn’t come because of her recent job location, and it feels odd she’s not here. Tonight, we are here to support Kat. Currently, Kat and Aly are sharing an apartment owned by Bentley, who happens to be Hunter’s boss. Kat and Caleb have hit a rough patch, one that I know they will get over in time. But until it does, drinking and getting crazy are great ways to recover. We just start to liven the party up with some games when Bentley and Hunter come downstairs and join our little pajama party.
The first time I ate at BMB, I thought the place was made for me. It was like a meat market, and I’m not talking about just the food. Every man behind the counter was gorgeous. Much to my dismay, most of them are taken in some way, shape, or form. Caleb and Bentley are spoken for. Caleb was taken from the moment he saw Kat; Bentley is completely smitten with Aly. But then there’s Hunter.
Supposedly, the man is engaged, or engaged to be engaged. Whatever. From what I hear, it’s not the best of situations. When my eyes found his for the first time, I felt this unfamiliar zap. Like someone snapped a rubber band against my skin. It’s wrong. The man is taken with a capital T.
Something about him brings out my flirty nature more than usual, making me extra feisty. As he leans against the railing of the deck, I watch him. Tall compared to my five-foot-five frame, he has broad shoulders that fill his t-shirt, stretching it to capacity along with his muscled chest and arms. Usually, he keeps his head shaved clean, but I can see a faint speckle of dark hair. Tattoos cover those massive arms I mentioned a second ago, and I want to explore each one with my tongue. I want to climb him like the tree he is and check out his wood. Bad, I know, but it’s the truth. I lick my lips at the thought of it. Our eyes connect when he looks up. He gives me one of his smiles, the kind that draws your eyes to his full lips and shows his perfectly white teeth; the type of smile that, when directed at her, makes a woman have to change into a fresh pair of panties.
Thankfully, I’m not wearing any.
He says something to Aly and Bentley then starts toward the stairs. I try to get outside before he leaves, but I’m too late. As I walk out the door, I overhear something about a bitch.
“Who’s a bitch? I love gossip.”
A questionable look passes between Aly and Bentley before anyone talks.
“Hunter’s a free man,” Aly says.
“Interesting.” Hearing that puts a whole lot of naughty and wonderful images in my head. “Very interesting.” Bentley takes that as his cue to go back to his place upstairs. Aly and I head back inside to continue our girls’ night.
We turn down the music a little since it’s getting late, but the party is far from over. There’re still plenty of shots and drinks to go around, and I have one more game up my sleeve. I go to my bag and pull out a roulette wheel that is carved out for shot glasses. I found it online and was saving it for a night like this. I randomly pour vodka in some glasses and water in the others. The girls give me a questioning look as I place the wheel on the dining room table.
“Okay, girls. The game of the night is vodka roulette.”
“Where the heck did you find that?” Jade asks.
“It came up as a suggested item. You know me, anything that involves drinking and games screams buy it. Now, here are the rules. Anytime someone mentions a boy, that person has to spin the wheel and drink. Good luck, ladies.”
We make it through a half hour before someone slips.
“Guys, do you think I fucked it up with C
aleb?” Kat asks
“Spin the wheel.” I point at the table, and she sticks her tongue out at me. By the way her face turns up after she drinks, I can tell that she picked vodka.
“That is nasty. Anyway, what do you think I should do about Caleb? Goddammit.” No one says anything when Kat realizes what she said. She just spins the wheel and gets vodka again.
We start talking about having a birthday party for Aly. It’s coming up in a few weeks and is the perfect excuse for me to bump into a certain man again.
“You should invite the guys. Bentley, Jeremy, Josh, and Hunter,” I say without thinking.
“I count four. You guys heard that, right? Or was it eight? I think I’m hearing double,” Kat says with a slight slur.
I make my way to the table and spin. Three out of the four are vodka. The warmth of the alcohol spreads and my vision slightly blurs, making its way through my system. Why did I come up with this game?
The next person to falter is Aly. The only one of us who gets away free is Jade. Kat and I tie at four vodka shots, which has us stumbling to the bedrooms. Aly plays the good host and loads everyone up with hangover medications. I’m pretty sure I pass out as soon as I hit the bed.
THE NEXT MORNING, I crawl out of bed, mentally kicking myself. I hit the bathroom before heading for the kitchen. Coffee is a must right now. Aly has breakfast out on the table—a spread of cinnamon rolls, bacon, eggs, and orange juice.
“I’m going to get you back for this, Lexi,” Kat says.
“Come on. It was fun.”
We all laugh softly, recalling the events of the night as we dive into breakfast. Nothing fixes a hangover better than Aly’s cooking. Bentley knocks and walks into the apartment like he owns the place which technically he does.
“Morning, ladies. How are we feeling today?”
Everyone gives him a look. One that says shut up and stop being so chipper this early. He grabs a cinnamon roll, pops the whole thing in his mouth, and smiles. Aly moves over a seat, inviting him to join us.
“Do you mind if we throw a party in a few weeks?” Aly asks.
“As long as I’m invited. What kind of party?” Bentley says.
“It’s Aly’s birthday, and we want to have a big bash: drinks, food, friends. You should invite the band and the guys from BMB,” I say. Bentley is in a band called Slither; the same band that Hunter plays the drums for. I haven’t seen them play yet, but I heard they are really something.
“It’s all set then.” Bentley claps his hands together, loudly. Everyone grunts from the noise, and he just laughs. Mentally, I start planning Aly’s birthday. I plan to make it an interesting evening for everyone.
SINCE GABBY AND I split because of her “mistake,” I’ve thrown myself into work even more. Not just at the deli. I am officially a homeowner. After spending a few weeks here, cleaning up the place and making it livable enough for me to crash, I decided it’s mine.
The location can’t be beat. It’s across the street from the Gulf and comes with private beach access. There is plenty of space for me to change one of the bedrooms into a studio room to drum in. Even though the place looked like a dump at the time I bought it, the bones are good. Eventually, I’ll start remodeling, but for now, I have running water, electricity, a giant king-size bed to myself, and a television where I can watch sports.
Tonight, I’m taking a much-needed night off with my friends. The other day, Bentley called me, and he flat out told me I was going to Aly’s party, which is happening tonight. I arrive armed with two gifts. When Aly greets me at the door, I hand her one of them.
“Hunter, oh my gosh. You shouldn’t have.”
A jar of pickles should not make a woman smile that much. It’s a running joke between her and me, though. Simply put, she wants my secret recipe, and my lips are shut tight. I hand her the backup gift too. A bottle of wine—the same kind she had in her refrigerator the other week.
For thirty minutes now, Josh, Bentley, and I sit at the breakfast bar bullshitting while each of us nurses a beer. When she walks in the room, I stop drinking. I’ve never seen the woman in anything other than her running gear and that fucking nightie she had on the other week, but what this woman does to a pair of jeans is something else. The only way to describe them is a second skin.
From bottom to top, I scan her body. Black shoes lace around her feet, showing off her brightly painted toes. The sway of her hips as she walks shouldn’t be turning me on, but it’s sexy as hell. Her top looks like nothing more than a black scarf that she’s thrown around her neck and tied together. When she turns to hug Aly, I notice the string that is holding the shirt closed. At the same time, it leaves her back completely exposed, which leaves me with three thoughts. One: the woman has the softest looking skin, two: she isn’t wearing a bra, and three: I could snap that thing with one finger. Fucking hell. I take a long pull of my beer, hoping to cool down, and I wind up draining the rest in one swig. It didn’t help. The fucker is piss warm by now.
Bentley leans his arm against the bar and taps me with the neck of his beer bottle. “Now’s your chance, man. Ding-dong, the witch is dead. Go have some fun.”
He knows I’ve been lusting after this girl. Even though he’s single, I’m not blind, and I can see him sneaking glances at Aly since I arrived.
“Nah, man, I’m good.”
He hands me another beer from the bucket on the other side of the counter. “You mean to tell me, all these months you’ve wanted this chick, and now that you can do something about it, you’re going to chicken out.”
I glance at him, letting him know I’m not going to be taking his bait.
Lexi walks over to us. “Hey, boys. How about doing a shot?”
Kat runs up behind her. “Did I hear the word shot? I really need one of those.”
Lexi looks at me while licking her lips. “How about a blowjob?” And damn if I don’t spit my beer all over the place.
“I think we’ll leave that one to you, ladies. We’ll drink this,” Bentley responds as he grabs the whiskey from the counter.
Kat whips out her phone and mixes some stuff together, making a shot up for each of them. After lining four up on the counter, Aly comes over to join the party. The girls lace their hands behind their backs as Lexi says, “Ready girls, on the count of three. One, two, three.”
Damn, if the show couldn’t get any better. Lexi sticks her tongue out, making contact with the glass. Her lips wrap completely around the glass, her head tilts it back, and she swallows the liquid inside. When Lexi drains the glass of its contents, she slams the glass on the bar area, and looks right at me, before licking off the whipped cream coating her top lip.
“You toying with me, Lex?”
She runs her finger from my shoulder down my bicep. “Maybe, Hunter. A little birdy told me you’re a single man now.”
Goddamn, if my dick didn’t just jump from just that light contact. She has never touched me before, at least not like that, but if I have anything to say about it, she’ll be doing it a lot more.
“You heard right.” I look down at the finger she has resting on my arm and try to get control of my body. It wants me to grab her, take her to nearest bedroom, and show her just how single I am.
She grabs my hand, pulling me up from my chair. “Then come on, Big Boy, show me your skills.”
I down the whiskey Bentley poured me before she drags me out where everyone is dancing. The woman has moves. That hot little body of hers rubs against me in all the right places. Lexi’s hands are touching me everywhere, causing my jeans to get slightly tighter in the front. When she turns her back to my front and grinds her ass on me, I know she feels me. A man can only take a woman rubbing against him for a short time. I pull her back to my chest and move her hair out of the way, allowing me to whisper in her ear. “Lex, you’d better cut that out. I can only be a nice guy for so long.”
She turns around, wraps her hands around my head, and pulls me closer. “Who says I want you to be nic
e?”
Game on.
For the rest of the night, she sticks close to me, very close. I want to see how this will play out. The party starts winding down, and I think my chances are looking good with her. I don’t mean just sex either. The chemistry between us is off the charts, but there’s more. I can’t put my finger on it yet, but it’s something I want to explore with her. Some of us decide to sit out on the deck and enjoy one last cocktail. Lexi positions herself on one of my legs, with her hand constantly touching the other. With my arms wrapped around her waist, I take every opportunity to lightly touch her body.
She turns her head to look at me. “You want to get out of here?”
“My place is right down the road.”
“Lead the way, Big Boy.”
Before walking the short distance to my place, we say our goodbyes to everyone. I open the door to my house, letting her in first. Just as I finish locking up, she makes the first move. It throws me off my game for a split second, at least until she wraps her legs around my waist, crushing her mouth against mine. With her ass cupped in my hands, I pull her closer to me. Lexi wraps her arms around my neck as she devours my mouth. Her smooth as silk tongue, soft lips, and teeth are everywhere. It’s the most fucking phenomenal kiss. Both of us are fighting for air, not wanting this to end. When she begins to grind on me, I stop the kiss.
“Damn Lex, I need to be in you. But I don’t want you out here.”
She bites my lip, sucking it between her now swollen lips. “Then take me to your room, Big Boy.”
Carrying her, I walk us to my bedroom and toss her on the covers. This is a sight I never want to or will forget: this woman on my bed.
I remove my shirt. My shoes and socks next.
“God, Hunter. If I had known what was under that t-shirt, I would have done this a lot sooner.”