“I’m just saying, we could if we wanted to.”
“We don’t want to,” I assure him.
He looks down at me. “You do want kids, though, right?”
I nod. “One or two. Definitely not 12. You?”
He nods, pulling me closer to him on the bed.
I give up getting dressed for the moment and throw my leg over his again so I can cuddle up close to him.
“I’m not really trying to do it all right now. I mean, we can if it comes up, but…” He begins to absently rub the thigh I have thrown over him. “Yeah, I want to have kids someday and actually be around for them. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone but you,” he says, glancing over at me as he caresses my leg. “Not kidding about that part, either.”
I sigh, laying my head against his shoulder and wrapping my arms around him.
“I wish I could stay here and laze around with you all day.”
“I mean, you could,” he tells me.
I shake my head faintly. “I have a job now.”
“You can quit. I’ll give you money.”
“Stop trying to buy me, mister. I’m not for sale.”
“Not for sale, for rent,” he teases, giving me a playful squeeze. “I’ll pay for your time.”
I smile. “I’m not a courtesan.”
“You would use the word courtesan instead of hooker.”
I nod. “It’s classier.”
“Think about it from an academic perspective. I’m offering you the chance to walk a mile in shoes you’ve never walked in before.”
I can’t suppress a smile at his playful argument. “Life as a sex worker? My, how you aspire to broaden my horizons.” I press a hand to my chest and bat my eyelashes at him. “I may swoon.”
Hunter smiles. “You wouldn’t be a sex worker. Guys with money have professional girlfriends all the time. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it. If it works for them, who cares?”
“Professional girlfriends?”
He nods, giving me a little squeeze. “You can be my professional girlfriend. How about it?”
I pretend to consider it. “Hm. What’s the job description like?”
“You let me fuck you and call you my girlfriend, I give you whatever you want.”
My laugh is smothered against his chest. “Sounds like a sweet gig.”
“It is. You should snap it up before someone else does.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Is the position open?”
“To anyone named—what’s your middle name?”
“Anne.”
“To anyone named Riley Anne Bishop.”
I smile. “That’s pretty specific.”
“I’m a man who knows what he wants.”
“Well, I appreciate that and the very generous offer, but no. I am perfectly capable of working.”
He kisses my neck. “So are professional girlfriends, they just have better things to do with their time.”
I smile helplessly, sighing as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot. “Like you?”
I feel him grin against my skin, hear the note of amusement in his voice. “Exactly.”
“As tempting as that offer is, I’m afraid I must decline.”
“You sure?” He shifts our bodies so that I’m cradled against him with his arm secured around my back. His large hand cups my breast. As he kneads it, he brings his face close and hovers his perfect lips mere inches from mine.
He got over the “I can’t kiss you” thing last night during round two, so I don’t hesitate to lean in now and kiss him.
His eyes close as he kisses me back.
He pushes me back on the bed, still squeezing and caressing my breast. My nipple has hardened, so he runs his fingertip over the sensitive nub and I gasp against his mouth.
Hunter breaks away from my lips, moving lower and making his way down my neck. I shiver every time he kisses me there.
I still have my leg thrown over his. Between his lips on my neck and his hand on my breast, he’s making me squirm. I use the leg hooked around him to pull my body closer to his.
He kisses his way across my collarbone, then lower. When his mouth gets to where his hand is, he replaces his teasing finger with his hot tongue.
I gasp and arch against him and he circles the tip of his tongue around my sensitive nipple. He licks harder and my eyes close. I moan softly, sliding my fingers through his hair.
He lavishes attention on my bare breasts, teasing and tasting my responsive nipples, kissing and caressing the soft mounds. As he works, he shifts me more and more until he has me flat on my back. He climbs on top of me, pinning me beneath his weight and feasting on my breasts.
“I could kiss your tits all day long,” he murmurs roughly, a beautiful contrast with his gentle lips pressed against my sensitive flesh.
“Mm, you’re making that professional girlfriend gig sound really tempting.”
He looks up and flashes me a charming smile. “Hey, it’s got to be better than waiting tables.”
“And you have seven showers. We can christen at least six of them.”
He sucks on my nipple and takes my breath away, then pops off long enough to say, “An ambitious task. It would take us all day to accomplish.”
I laugh a little. “Just one day?”
“Hey, you’ve been holding out on me for a long time. I have a lot of pent up stamina to spend.”
“Hm, this job sounds pretty demanding.”
“Very demanding,” he agrees, tenderly kissing my chest again. “Very rewarding, too.”
“What’s the retirement plan like?” I tease.
“Oh, I think you’ll be quite pleased with it.” He squeezes my left breast, then gives it another kiss. “As long as my mom doesn’t have another kid, I’m set to inherit her entire fortune. My dad obviously has other obligations, but I’m sure he’ll set something aside for me. One of his houses, maybe. We haven’t really talked about it, but if I never saw a penny from him, I’d still have more money than we’ll ever need, and that’s before I start making more money of my own.”
“A house, he says. How many houses does the man have?”
“I don’t know, at least four.”
I sigh as he starts to kiss his way toward my abdomen. “We never did get to have Italy pillow talk.”
“Even more reason for you to call off and stay here with me.”
I suck in a breath as he kisses my stomach. “You are a terrible influence, Hunter Maxwell.”
“Your mom tried to warn you,” he teases.
He tries to tempt me even more, kissing lower and lower, his lips venturing below my belly button. It gets harder to breathe when he kisses my hipbone, then moves his face between my thighs.
“Hunter,” I say, trying to squeeze my legs closed even though he’s between them.
“Yes, Riley?” He looks up at me, so devilishly handsome, I must be out of my mind to stop him.
But I have to.
“If you do that, you’re going to fuck me again.”
“I fail to see the problem.”
“Your day pass has expired,” I tell him.
“Nah,” he says dismissively. “I checked the fine print while you were sleeping. It’s good for 24. I’ve still got a good 12 hours left.”