Captivated

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by Scarlett Avery


  So I’m not the only one affected here? That understanding sends a jolt of confidence through my body. I’m fueled by his reaction and before I can even process my thoughts to prevent myself from making a complete fool out of myself, the words fly out of my mouth. “Teach me.”

  He blinks, and then blinks again. I guess my request surprises us both. “What?”

  Shit. Is it too late to backtrack? From the look of disbelief on his face, I’d say it is. Might as well jump in with both feet. “I said teach me.” Yup, I’m pressing on. I desperately want this man to break me free from the confinement of my inexperience. It’s all that I’ve been able to think about since Saturday night.

  Hunter pulls his brows together. “I don’t follow.”

  I place my hand against his chest and push him away. If I’m going to do this, I need to be able to think clearly. Having Hunter this close isn’t going to help me in my crusade. “Before you, I thought there was something seriously wrong with me,” I start. “I thought there was a medical reason preventing me from…” I stop, unsure if I should keep talking or run out of this SUV.

  “From?” he presses.

  “From, um… I… I mean… It’s just that…” I trip, trying to find my footing. Since this has been all trapped inside my head for the past forty-eight hours and never in a million years did I ever think I’d have the guts to actually articulate my desires, it’s not coming out as fluidly as I’d hope.

  “What is it, Miranda?”

  “I’ve never…” Okay, breathe. “It’s usually a waste of time…”

  “Woman, just spit it out.”

  His impatience detonates something in me. “I can’t come.” I exhale. “With a guy,” I add.

  “Huh? But you did with me…” He’s puzzled by my admission. Suddenly his rich mocha-brown eyes turn ebony. “Were you faking it?” He blinks, torn. Jesus, he looks so hurt. If I could just take my foot out of my mouth, maybe I might be able to express what I really want from him.

  “God, no. There’s no faking what you did to me.”

  His expression changes and I can tell he’s just clued in. “Are you saying you’ve never been able to come with another guy before?”

  “Not with another guy and not on my own. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like you’re having a heart attack at twenty-two.”

  He grins from ear to ear. “So I’m your first?”

  “You don’t have to look so smug.” I roll my eyes. God, I’d love nothing more than to fuck that smirk off his face. The truth is he deserves to feel this proud. His prowess is nothing shy of a miracle.

  “As flattered as I am, I still don’t understand what you want me to teach you.”

  I look out the windshield hoping to make this conversation less awkward. “Yesterday, it was impossible for me to be in the moment. My hike with my best friend was supposed to be an escape. But I was incapable of getting you out of my head. There was only one thing consuming me all day.” I inhale deeply.

  “Our encounter?” He finishes my sentence.

  “It’s more than that. I was thinking that since you’re only here for another three or four weeks and then you’ll be back in Colorado…” I stop, laughing a little at myself, because I’m about to make the most outrageous proposition to a man. “I want you to teach me everything there is to know about pleasing a man,” I blurt out in one shot before losing my courage.

  Hunter’s jaw drops as his eyes widen at the realization of what I’ve just asked. “You… You’re asking me to…”

  I nod, coaxing him. “I don’t know how to satisfy a man in bed and I want you to be my coach.” There. I said it. “I’m fully aware women must throw themselves at you all the time. I mean look at you. Why wouldn’t they? I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you or anything of that nature. It’s a no-strings-attached deal.”

  “Are you fucking with me right now?”

  I shake my head vehemently. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  “Holy shit.” Letting his words resonate inside the vehicle, he reaches up to scratch his jaw. Clearly he’s shocked. “I don’t want this to come across the wrong way, but why me? What about guys your own age?”

  I turn my body to face him. “In my lamentable experience, guys my own age don’t always know what they’re doing. The reason I’m asking you is simple, really.” I put up five fingers in the air. “One, I know you’re not a serial killer because you live with my boss.” I grin.

  “I’m relieved to find out you have very strict criteria,” he mocks.

  I continue, ignoring his cocky comment. “Two, if I don’t know how to satisfy a man, how am I ever going to be able to hold onto one? Three, since you’re here temporarily, we walk away from this at the end. No harm, no foul. Four, I want to be that girl. The one man can’t get enough of her because her confidence level in the bedroom is off the charts. And finally, five, at the gala you made me feel like a woman for the first time in my life.”

  “But you already know all that, sweetie. From where I’m standing, you’re all woman,” he says, fixing his eyes on my breasts.

  “No. I want to be sensual. I want to learn how to feel.” I wince, looking away. It’s hard to maintain his inquisitive stare.

  If Hunter agrees to this, maybe I’ll finally learn how to exude the kind of confidence of the type of women Julian goes after. Maybe then he’ll finally give me the time of the day. It’d be so amazing for once to have a guy I really want as opposed to settling like I usually do.

  “Do you realize what you’re really asking me?”

  “I do.” I nod.

  Hunter swallows hard, his eyes dropping to my lips for a beat. “I don’t do vanilla sex, Miranda.”

  His words are a lot to take in. “That’s okay,” I babble.

  “The missionary position bores me.”

  “See. That. I need to know that.” I throw my hands up in the air. “I only know the bedroom. Me on my back and him on top of me.”

  “If I take you up on your offer, I’m going to teach you what it feels like to fully surrender control to me, Miranda. Are you willing to go there with me?”

  “O-okay,” I whisper, suddenly very turned on. I’m not sure what he means by surrender, but it sounds outrageously dirty.

  Damn, this is going to be amazing. My stomach twists and a delicious heat spreads from my chest all the way down to the neglected ache between my legs.

  “I fuck one way—hard. I don’t do the sweet lovey-dovey stuff. And if you’ve only been fucked on your back so far, be prepared to expand your repertoire in a big way.”

  “God,” I hiss.

  “There’s no point in sugar-coating this. You’ll eventually discover my feral side.”

  Coughing, I say, “Oh, shit.” I’m totally taken aback. I mean the few guys I’ve been with were very gentle. I’m not sure if it was just their style or if their youth and inexperience was to blame.

  I’m aware Hunter is watching my reaction. I’m not sure if he’s saying this stuff for shock value or if he’s giving me a way out. I spent the better part of yesterday thinking about this and I’m not about to back away now. “I can do hard. And yes, yes, yes to every position in the Kama Sutra.” I purse my lips, narrow my eyes and lower my head slightly, looking up at him from under my lashes. I’m breathing heavy through my nostrils, not because I’m scared, but because I’m so ready for this.

  Hunter licks his lips, reaches to massage the back of his neck before meeting my eyes again. “You’re serious?” I guess he reads my fearless determination.

  I fix him with a steely gaze. “I am.”

  “Wow.” He nods, obviously impressed by how unwavering I am about this.

  “I want you to make me the perfect lover.”

  “That’s a tall order.”

  Okay, maybe this is too much even for a hunk like Hunter. “Listen, you don’t have to answer me right away. I’m sure this is coming from left field and it’s most likely not the type
of request you get every day.”

  “You got that right,” he teases.

  “Sleep on it. Maybe we can meet tomorrow after work and you can let me know,” I suggest.

  “I will definitely think it over, but tomorrow morning I’m off to San Fran.”

  Shit. “You can let me know the next day.”

  “I’ll be there until Friday.”

  “I see. Well—”

  “I’m not going to make you wait the entire week for an answer, Miranda. That wouldn’t be fair,” he interrupts. “I have a jam-packed day tomorrow and I’m sure Riley will keep you quite busy. Why don’t we talk when I get back to my hotel? Let’s say seven-thirty, eight o’clock?”

  I grin from ear to ear, unable to contain my excitement. He hasn’t said no. “That sounds great.”

  We sit in silence, choosing to focus our attention on the people walking up and down the beach for a few long minutes, absorbing this unlikely conversation before Hunter speaks again. “Well, this turned out to be a very different date than I expected.”

  “In a bad way?” I turn my head towards him so quickly, you’d think I have whiplash.

  ‘No, not at all, sweetie. Don’t look so worried. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you asking for what you want. I’m flattered. No one has ever asked this of me before. The question is, can I measure up?”

  I widen my eyes. Is he for real? “Are you kidding me? I think we both know you can.”

  “You’re right. I just wanted to hear you say it.” He winks.

  “Cocky bastard.”

  We both laugh.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Hunter

  I haven’t even been in San Francisco for twenty-four hours yet, but this trip is turning out to be far busier and far more beneficial than I expected. After a frantic day running from one meeting with new restaurateurs to another, I finally step inside the lobby of the Four Seasons hotel—my stomping ground when I’m up here for business. This is one of the most luxurious hotels in the city. Everything is meticulous—from the attentive staff, to the personalized touches, to the extravagant amenities, to the irresistible menu that keeps me coming back time after time, to the breathtaking view from the upper penthouse suites. Luckily, I’m alone riding the elevator back to the thirty-eighth floor. God knows, I’ve been talking all day and the last thing I want is idle conversation.

  Once I step inside the room, I don’t waste time making myself comfortable. I get out of my corporate suit, my tailor-made white shirt and my Italian shoes. Heck, I even remove my boxer briefs before pulling on a pair of old loose-fitting running shorts. I don’t even bother slipping on a t-shirt. I’ve had to dress up like a businessman since I set foot in LA. It’s so foreign to what I’m used to in Colorado. By the end of the day, I can’t stand it anymore.

  While I was riding at the back of the cab, I called the concierge to order a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley. I don’t waste my time with the minibar when I stay at a hotel. There’s usually not much to my liking.

  I walk to the bed, pull off the covers, fluff up the pillows and jump onto the mattress. I wiggle around until I find a comfortable position. When I do, I sigh with relief. I reach out for the bottle, uncork it, pour myself a generous glass, grab the remote and flip through a few channels while I take my first sip. Ah, finally. I’m dead set on putting this grueling day behind me and chilling for a bit. I try to find a show that might hold my attention, but it doesn’t take much for my mind to veer towards one person—Miranda.

  “No strings attached,” I say aloud, remembering our conversation. Is she the type of woman who can really do that? She comes across as a girl who’s looking for Prince Charming. What a dichotomy, considering what she wants from me will never have a fairytale ending. It would be much easier to bounce this off someone else instead of having this conversation with myself, but who the hell do I call? And what would I tell them? This girl I just met wants me to fuck her and shape her into the perfect lover? I laugh aloud at how preposterous that sounds. No one will believe me. Not even Collin. But, damn, the thought has been consuming me.

  I’ve been horny since I dropped her off at her place last night. Let’s be honest, there’s not a man on this planet with a functioning cock who could resist a sweet girl like Miranda. She’s the perfect combination of eagerness, willingness and innocence. Her proposition is so outrageous, I might just accept. I check the time on the radio clock to my left. Seven-thirty. Instead of fighting this, I decide to see if she’s back from work. Not to mention I owe her an answer. I turn off the TV, take a few sips of wine, grab my phone from the nightstand and text her.

  Did Riley cut the umbilical cord for the day yet?

  Miranda responds immediately.

  -----

  Barely. She didn’t spare me one bit today.

  -----

  Are you back at your place?

  -----

  I am. Finally.

  -----

  Can I call?

  -----

  Absolutely.

  “How was day two at Food TV?”

  “Exhausting.” She breathes out.

  “I bet. Give it time. You’ll be a pro before you know it.”

  “I really hope it gets easier. Can I ask you a question just between the two of us?”

  “Of course. Shoot.”

  “Is Riley plugged into a power circuit?”

  Her question takes me by surprise. I laugh my head off for what seems like a solid minute, unable to stop. Damn, this girl is spunky. “Let’s just say she has a very high level of energy.”

  “Does she ever.”

  “The funny thing is she doesn’t see it. She’s constantly lamenting and wondering why her twins are so rowdy. The rest of the world knows why—they take after their mom.”

  “She’s great, but she’s something else.”

  “She totally is. You have to remember that despite the theatrical exterior and the Energizer bunny exuberance, she has a huge heart. Once you’ve won her over, you’re set for life… unless you betray her, of course.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.” Miranda laughs. “How was your day?”

  “Good. Long. Draining.”

  “Sounds like you had it rougher than I did,” she sympathizes.

  “Don’t get me wrong, it was an extraordinarily lucrative day, but it was really high-paced and very demanding.”

  “So no big plans for tonight?”

  “Nope. I was very tempted to stop by the Slanted Door, a sophisticated bar I usually visit when I’m up here for a few drinks, but I knew that one thing would lead to another so I restrained myself. Frisco is a great place to party, but I’m here on a mission. Today is the first of a mini-marathon week and I need to pace myself. Each client I meet has to have the feeling I’m presenting my company, Totally Natural Meats, for the first time. I can’t afford to come across tired or blasé. Therefore, I’m skipping the nightlife and I’m staying in. I’m going to savor my wine, enjoy this conversation with you and unwind. I’ll order dinner a bit later, then I’ll call it quits for the day and go to sleep.”

  “No woman has thrown herself at you today?”

  Once again, she catches me off guard. I roar in laughter. “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know. You seem like the type of man who can’t walk a block without a woman dropping her underwear.”

  Just hearing her voice hardens my cock. She’s doing a pretty good job at fueling my fantasies because right now the only thing I can think of is her with her panties off, her dress hiked up to her waist and her legs perched on top of my shoulders as I gorge on her sweet pussy. Fuck.

  “You know what? You come across as naïve and all, but there’s a little devil inside waiting to come out.” I’m doing a terrible job at hiding the lust in my voice.

  “You caught me red-handed. No, seriously, I’m just making conversation to avoid asking what I really want to know.”

  “And what’s that?”


  “You know…” She lets her sentence hang in the air.

  “I’m not a mind reader, Miranda.” I mischievously pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about.

  “So…”

  “So…” I mimic her. I could make things easier for her, but this is way more fun.

  “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.” I hum.

  “Did you have a chance to think about what we talked about yesterday?”

  I’m still not sure why she thinks she needs a coach. She’s gorgeous, curvy, delicious, sexy and incredibly passionate. She didn’t even bat an eyelash when I told her I’d expect her to submit to me. It’s as if she’s giving me carte blanche to do whatever I want to do to her.

  “You mean about me teaching you how to fuck?” She left that door wide open. I couldn’t resist.

  She gasps on the other side. “You’re taking a lot of pleasure out of this. This is awkward enough, did you have to pour salt on my bleeding wounds?”

  “Oh, please. Spare me, Jane Austen. First off, can you blame me? Second off, I’ve already told you, the only way you’re going to get what you want is if you go after it. And that’s what you’re doing.”

  “I guess,” she says in a meek voice. “Did you decide?” she presses without missing a beat.

  Someone’s quite eager. “Before I give you an answer, I have a few questions.”

  “Sure. Ask me anything.”

  “I assume you’re not a virgin, but I want to make sure.”

  “I’m not.”

  She might not be one, but given her limited experience, if I were to agree, it would be like popping her cherry and then dragging her with me to the dark side. The only difference is, I’d bypass all the drama associated with being her first. The thought of corrupting her is extraordinarily arousing.

 

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