I don’t want him to think I don’t see the villainous gallantry in his gesture. I just… don’t want Valerie to have any part in what happens between us, whether it’s a revenge thing or not. I don’t want her to have any relevance to our story, whatever our story turns out to be.
Seeking to metaphorically kiss any wound I may have unintentionally inflicted, I soften, leaning into him and sliding my hand up to caress his jawline. “It’s a little romantic, though. In a… bad romance kind of way,” I assure him. “It’s just not how I want to remember our first time. It shouldn’t have anything to do with her.”
He looks down, but doesn’t say anything.
There’s a weight on his shoulders that wasn’t there before I said that, though.
I find it a little distressing how much his response distresses me. He hasn’t even confirmed I’ve hurt his feelings or made him feel in any way rejected—and for that matter, I can’t imagine Hunter being someone who can’t handle a little rejection, even if he’s probably not used to it—but it’s like I’m 14 again. Hunter might be feeling some kind of hurt, and my protective instincts are rearing up, suggesting it’s my fault.
My chest feels tight, my heart a little heavier.
It’s terrifying how much my own feelings are wrapped up with his.
I’m an empathetic person, sure, but not to this degree. Not with anyone else. It’s only Hunter who impacts me like this. I actually considered myself a bit chilly with Anderson, I would have never felt anything like guilt in a situation like this… hell, I would never be in a situation like this. No other man could ever even jokingly convince me that I owe him anything, let alone my innocence.
Hunter isn’t any other man.
The realization melts away some of my hesitance.
I’m still not sure this is the right time or place or even way to do this, but maybe those aren’t the details that really matter. I never fantasized about a darkened hotel room decked out with rose petals and candles, I just wanted my first time to be with someone I loved, someone who reached me like no one else could.
Someone like Hunter.
I didn’t think it would be him because he hated me, but now it can be. Maybe that’s all that matters. Maybe I shouldn’t overthink it.
No longer awkward due to conflicted feelings and virginal hesitation, I lean up on my tiptoes and press my forehead against his. I close my eyes for a moment, just enjoying the closeness.
“You know what?”
“What?” he asks.
“A wise man once told me to go big or go home.”
His perfect lips curve up. “Oh, did he?”
I nod, easing back a little, but staying within kissing range. “Mm-hmm. He was a reasonable man, too. Fully willing and able to compromise when the situation called for it.”
“Anything else you like about this guy?” he asks, playing along. “Sounds like I might wanna beat him up.”
I try to bite back a smile, but I don’t try very hard. “There is this one other thing.”
“I’m listening,” he says, his tone playful as he mimics my words from the library.
“It’s been a while so I can’t be completely sure about the veracity of this one, but if memory serves…”
“If memory serves,” he murmurs, locking an arm around my waist and pulling me closer.
I meet his gaze, a playful glint in mine. “I remember him being a really good kisser.”
It’s all the invitation he needs. Whatever weight I inadvertently added to his shoulders, either it fell off during our back and forth or he figured out how to carry it.
He brings his face so close to mine, I can scarcely breathe.
He cradles my face in his hand, gazing at me with so much affection, my heart feels like it might explode.
His voice sends shivers down my spine as he playfully murmurs, “Let’s see how good your memory is.”
And then he kisses me.
Chapter Twenty One
Riley
Two trillion monarch butterflies somehow find space inside my stomach.
They flutter madly, almost violently as Hunter presses his lips against mine.
Just like the first time, his kiss starts off slow and gentle. Hunter has the most perfect lips—soft and overpowering at the same time. When he kisses me, I can’t even breathe. It shouldn’t be so incapacitating, but the way he tastes my lips, the way his mold so perfectly against mine as if chiseled by the Gods for this specific purpose…
I can’t breathe, can’t think. All I can do is hold onto him. I feel his hands slide under my ass, feel him pull me tightly against him.
A thrill shoots through me when I feel how hard he is already, knowing it’s because of me.
All the resistance melts out of me. He didn’t even have to reason with me, he could’ve just kissed me and my “I’m not sure” would’ve turned into “yes.”
My heart races as his hands roam my body. I want to explore his body, too, but it’s hard to focus on anything when I’m being so thoroughly kissed.
“God, I love your mouth,” I murmur against his lips when I finally need to take a breath.
It’s the wrong thing to say if I wanted a break. He pushes his fingers through my hair, gently tugging my head back and crushing his lips against mine.
His kiss is like being pushed under water with no warning. A burst of panic ripples through me. I’m gripped by enough awareness to know I could drown in these waters and I need to escape. But it’s like being drowned by a Siren. Who needs air if it means leaving him?
When his lips leave mine again, he looks down at the buttons on my shirt with fixed intensity as he slips the tiny discs through their holes. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about doing this?”
My heart flutters happily. “I’m surprised you had time with all those gorgeous Italian girls you seemed to be juggling,” I murmur.
Hunter smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement as they meet mine. “You kept tabs on me, huh?”
My cheeks heat, undercutting my denial. “I didn’t keep tabs on you… I checked in on occasion.”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs, unconvinced, as he frees the last button and pulls my shirt open. His gaze drops to my breasts. They’re still covered by a nude-colored bra, but I have a feeling not for long as Hunter tugs off my white button-down top.
“I missed you,” I admit. “I wanted to see if life was good for you in Italy.”
He slides his hands around my back to unclasp my bra. “It was better than I expected it to be.”
“I want to hear all about it.”
His lips curve up. “Maybe not right now.”
“Are you sure? I’m an excellent multitasker,” I tell him as I peel off my bra and toss it off to the side.
Hunter shakes his head at me, grabbing me around the waist and tugging me close so he can bend his head and kiss the swell of my bare breast. “I promise you all the Italy pillow talk you desire as soon as we’re done.”
I miss a beat as he presses those incredible lips of his to my skin. “Be careful what you promise,” I say with some effort as my heart rate picks back up. “I could keep you here all night, and this isn’t our house.”