Then her gaze snagged on Rome and she blinked again.
“Can I sketch you?” Then she shook her head and stood. “Sorry, I’m still in the zone.”
Rome smiled. “I’m Rome Nash.”
She held out her hand. “Savannah.”
“Listen to Rome, and stay out of trouble,” Hunt said.
Her nose wrinkled. “Damn, and here I was thinking of running around the streets. You’ve crushed my plans.”
Rome gave a low chuckle.
Hunt tapped her nose. “I like it when you’re sassy.” He kissed her, and made it long and thorough.
Savannah looked a little glassy eyed. “You should come with a warning label, Detective.” Her face turned serious. “Be safe.”
“I will. I promise. See you later.”
Savannah was sitting on the floor in front of the living room windows. The late afternoon light was just right.
She’d sketched Rome—big, tall, stoic, gorgeous Rome. He’d been good company. He talked when she wanted to talk, and he stayed quiet when she got busy with her art.
She’d worked like crazy to keep herself distracted. She was working on a series of sketches of Hunter. She shaded in one image of him.
These were just for her.
She realized her neck was stiff and she stretched it. That’s when she noticed Hunt sprawled on the couch, watching her.
She jolted. “How long have you been there?”
He smiled. “Not long. I like watching you work, especially when you’re so caught up in it.”
“I didn’t even hear you arrive.” She scanned around. “Where’s Rome?”
“Gone. He said to say goodbye. Actually, he said goodbye, but you didn’t hear him, and he didn’t want to disturb you.”
She rose. “I got super inspired and lost track of time.”
He cocked his head. “I hope Rome wasn’t the cause of the sudden burst of inspiration.”
She grinned. “No. I did sketch him, looking every inch the hunky bodyguard.”
Hunt frowned.
“But someone else left me very inspired.” She held out her sketchbook.
He took it and flipped through the pages. She watched his rugged face freeze.
“I’m…naked. I never posed like this.”
She bit her lip. “Don’t worry. They’re for my eyes only.”
She leaned over. The image he was looking at showed him sprawled on the bed, naked and gorgeous. Like a big, satisfied lion.
In the next one, he was standing by the windows, naked, a glass of his beloved Blanton Gold in hand.
“I’ve never stood like this, either,” he grumbled.
“Artistic license. I have a good memory.” Especially when it came to all things Hunter Morgan.
The next image made him suck in a breath.
He was naked under the shower, side on, cock very obviously hard. She felt the burn of desire and pressed her thighs together.
“Look at the next one,” she said.
He flipped the page. He was sprawled on the very couch where he sat now, naked again, powerful thighs spread and his thick cock in hand. As he stroked, he was looking straight ahead.
He dragged in a breath. “No one but you ever sees these.”
She nodded. “Of course.” She licked her lips, feeling desperate for him. “Although I could probably make a small fortune—”
He growled.
Savannah wanted him, she always did, but she also wanted to keep from thinking about everything.
Hunter was the perfect distraction.
“Want to help make my vision a reality, Detective?” she asked silkily.
His eyes narrowed and he tossed the sketchbook aside. “You want to see my cock, beautiful?”
Her chest hitched, and she felt a flood of dampness rush to her panties. “Yes.”
He eyed her for a beat, then unbuckled his belt. Electric tingles washed over her. Her gaze stayed locked on him as he opened his pants, then freed his cock from his boxers.
She swallowed a moan. He was already hard.
He stroked lazily. “Now, I want you to take your shorts off.”
Her skin was on fire, and she quickly flicked them open and kicked them down her legs.
“Panties next. Hand them to me.”
The deep, authoritative tone made her shiver. She hooked her fingers in the side of her panties and pushed them down.
Then she nabbed them and handed them to him.
“They’re already wet.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He pulled a condom out of his pocket, and she squirmed a little as she watched him roll it on.
“Shirt off next,” he ordered.
She yanked it off. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She felt his gaze on her, her nipples pebbling. As she watched, he gave his cock another lazy stroke.
“Touch your sweet pussy, Savannah.”
His voice was so gritty, and her belly was full of heat and flutters. She slid a hand down her belly. His green gaze stayed glued to it. She stroked through the curls at the juncture of her thighs, then she let out a little gasp.
“That’s it,” he drawled. “Stroke yourself.”
She did, feeling how wet she was. She moved up to her clit and let out a low moan.
Hunt cursed. “So damn beautiful. Look how hard you’ve made me, Savannah.”
She stared blindly. He was pumping his cock and she thought he was the beautiful one.
“Come here,” he growled. “I want you to straddle me.”
She closed the distance between them and eagerly straddled his lap.
This man, this good, solid man, had seduced her. She trusted him with everything. She knew in her bones that he’d never let her down.
She felt his hard cock beneath her. She shifted her hips, trying to get it right where she needed it.
“Uh-uh.” He squeezed her hip. “Not yet.” He took her hand, the one she’d used to touch herself, and sucked her fingers into his mouth.
Oh, God. Her belly clenched hard. Then he pulled her closer, and sucked her nipple into his mouth.
“Hunter.” She slid her hands into his hair, holding him to her.
Savannah moaned. She was entirely pure sensation. He moved to the other side, his big hands cupping her breasts as he sucked on her nipple.
She writhed, and let out a garbled cry.
Hunt tore his mouth free. “Put me inside you, Savannah, then sink down on my cock.”
God, she’d never liked bossy men before, but these sexy orders left her panting. She grabbed his thick cock and shifted until it caught in her folds.
She bit her lip, then lowered down.
They both groaned.
Needy, hungry, she rocked on him, savoring the way he stretched her. She lifted her hips, expelling a sharp breath, then sank back down.
As always, she felt like her desire went from simmer to inferno. She rode him faster.
“No.” He gripped her hips.
She froze. “What?”
“Slower. I want to make love to you. We’ve been all fire and flash.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. He’d said the L word. Panic took flight. “I like flash and fire.”
He moved her body up, then eased her slowly back down on his cock. She moaned.
“There’s no rush, baby. I’ve got you. Just feel.”