Sex, Not Love E-Book

Vi Keeland

• Herausgeber: C. Scott Publishing Corp.
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

From #1 New York Times Bestseller Vi Keeland, comes a new, sexy standalone novel.
My relationship with Hunter Delucia started backwards.
We met at a wedding—him sitting on the groom’s side, me sitting on the bride’s. Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction.
I caught the bouquet; he caught the garter. Hunter held me tightly while we danced and suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us. His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off. But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me.
We ended up back in my hotel room. The next morning, I headed home to New York leaving him behind in California with the wrong number.
I thought about him often, but after my last relationship, I’d sworn off of charming, cocky, gorgeous-as-sin men. A year later, Hunter and I met again at the birth of our friends’ baby. Our attraction hadn't dulled one bit. After a whirlwind trip, he demanded a real phone number this time. So I left him with my mother’s—she could scare away any man with her talks of babies and marriage—and flew back home.
I’d thought it was funny, until the following week when he rang the bell at Mom’s house for Sunday night dinner. The crazy, gorgeous man had won over my mother and taken an eight-week assignment in my city. He proposed we spend that time screwing each other out of our systems.
Eight weeks of mind-blowing sex with no strings attached? What did I have to lose?
Nothing, I thought.
It’s just sex, not love.
But you know what they say about the best laid plans…

Leseprobe

Copyright © 2017 by Vi Keeland

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

SEX, NOT LOVE

Edited by: Jessica Royer Ocken

Cover model: Fabian Castro

Photographer: Rafael Catala

Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative

Proofreading and Formatting by Elaine York, Allusion Graphics, LLC

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Mailing List Signup

Other Books by Vi Keeland

Life isn’t about the big win.

It’s about the person you call first to tell that you’ve won.

— Natalia —

“Do you think there’s any correlation between intelligence and being good in bed?” I inhaled from the tiny remnant of rolled-up paper and held it in my lungs as I passed the joint to my best friend. At least this round I didn’t choke and cough for five minutes. Neither of us had smoked pot in ten years, not since high school. It seemed fitting to mark the official end of our childhood by lighting up what Anna had confiscated from her sixteen-year-old brother yesterday.

“I’m about to marry a man who creates robots that can learn how to think. Of course I’m going to say smart guys are better in bed. I mean, Derek can solve a Rubik’s Cube in less than thirty seconds. A vagina is a lot less complicated.”

“His friend Adam’s sweet. But he spent the last hour talking to me about some algorithm he’s building for an artificial intelligence robot named Lindsey. My only contribution to the conversation was alternating between wow and that’s fascinating. Can you tell Derek he needs to find stupider friends?”

Anna inhaled and spoke while trying not to exhale, causing her voice to rise two octaves. “He went to MIT and works at a tech firm—not much of a pool of stupid people to pick from.” She bumped her shoulder with mine. “That’s why I need you to move out here. I can’t handle being surrounded by smart people all the time.”

“Very nice.” I sighed. “At least Adam is sort of cute.”

“So, I take it you’ll be breaking your dry spell tonight?”

“Maybe tomorrow night after the wedding.” I smirked. “If he’s lucky. I’m still on New York time. Tonight I’ll be ready to go to bed alone by the time they serve dessert.”

The bride-to-be and I were hiding from the rest of the rehearsal dinner guests behind an ivy-covered lattice arch in the courtyard of the restaurant. A deep, throaty voice scared the heck out of me, and I almost knocked the damn thing over.

“He’d be the lucky one, huh? Do you look as good from the front as you do the back, or are you just full of yourself?”

“Who the hell…?” I turned to find a man walking toward us in the dark. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

The guy took a few more strides and stepped into the overhead spotlight Anna and I had attempted to avoid. My eyes nearly bulged from my head. He was gorgeous. Tall, damn tall—I was five foot four and had on five-inch heels and still had to crane my neck to look up at him. He had dark, sexy hair that looked like it could use a haircut but totally worked for him. Tanned skin, carved square jaw, a five o’clock shadow that probably grew back in two hours from all the testosterone this guy exuded. His eyes were a light blue that popped out from his dark complexion, and tiny crow’s feet flawed the skin around his eyes in a way that made me think he smiled often. And that smile. It wasn’t really a full smile—more of a crooked, cat-that-swallowed-the-canary smirk.

The entire package of man was a lot to take in at once. But while I stood there speechless, Anna threw her arms around his neck.

I hoped she knew him and wasn’t just more wasted than I thought.

“Hunter! You made it.”

Whew.

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss my best buddy tying the knot with his girl. Sorry I’m so late. I was up in Sacramento on business and had to rent a car and drive back when they canceled my flight this afternoon.”

The gorgeous eavesdropper turned his attention to me. Starting at my feet, he did a slow, incredibly rude, yet seductive sweep over my body. My nipples hardened while I watched his afternoon-blue-sky eyes darken to hazy sunset as they traveled all over me.

When he was done, our gazes met. “Yep, you do.”

Huh?

Reading the confused look on my face, Hunter clued me in. “You look as good from the front as you do from the back. You’re right. Whoever you’re planning on sleeping with is damn lucky.”

My mouth hung open. I couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy…yet my skin was beginning to tingle.

“Adam,” Anna offered. “He’s her partner in the wedding. She’s going to sleep with Adam tomorrow night.”

Hunter extended his hand to me with a nod. “Hunter Delucia. Got a name, beautiful? Or should I just call you the Adam-fucker?”

For some inexplicable reason, I knew in the pit of my stomach that putting my hand in his was a bad idea. My body and his should never touch, not even once. Yet I did it anyway.

“Nat Rossi,” I said, giving him my hand.

“Nat? Is that short for something?”

“Natalia. But no one calls me that.”

He smiled again. “Very nice to meet you, Natalia.”

Hunter kept my hand cupped in his as he turned his attention back to Anna. “And why is Adam paired up with the beautiful Natalia and not me?”

My friend snorted. She was definitely stoned. “Because you two would kill each other.”

He seemed to like that answer. His eyes crinkled, and he returned his gaze to me. “Is that so?”

I felt electricity zapping between us, although something told me this was electricity harnessed from lightning in a storm. The last time I’d felt a physical reaction so strong to anyone was when I met Garrett. My delicate heart still had a hole in it from that lightning bolt.

“Do you remember when Derek’s brother Andrew lost his job and was having a hard time in social situations?” Anna asked him. “He started to stay in too often, and I was nervous he was turning into an agoraphobe?”

“Yeah,” Hunter said. “I remember. It was a few years back.”

“I suggested he find a therapist to work with, help him get over a difficult time and his fears. And what did you say?”

“I said you were nuts, and he needed a swift kick in his lazy ass and a job.”

Anna smiled. “Nat here is a behavioral therapist. She visits people with anxiety disorders and works on breaking the habits that cause them stress.”

His brows rose. “That’s an actual thing?”

I slipped my hand from his. “It is. I work mostly with people who have obsessive-compulsive disorders.”

“Well, whatta you know? I thought you were making that shit up.”

“Hunter is a builder,” Anna continued. “He builds large projects like shopping malls. You know, the kind where they need to clear the land of all the trees to build a mile of Gap, Baby Gap, and Abercrombies. He built the one that took over part of the park we used to go to uptown as kids—Medley Park. He and Derek grew up together. They don’t get to see each other often because Hunter travels around the country for months at a time on projects.”

Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome seemed proud of that résumé.

I offered him a sugary smile. “I loved that park. Good job blowing up the carbon footprint of the Upper East Side and desecrating our environment.”

“Tree hugger, huh? Sounds like Anna’s right. We might kill each other if we were partners.”

“Mmm…I want cheesecake. Are you thirsty? I’m so thirsty.”

Yep. Anna was definitely stoned. “We haven’t even had dinner yet,” I pointed out.

“Who cares? Let’s go get some dessert. Come on!” Licking her lips, she started back into the restaurant without us.

Hunter chuckled. “It was nice to meet you, Natalia. And if things don’t work out with that boring shit, Adam, I’m in room 315 at the hotel.” He winked and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “We might kill each other, but fucking to death is the way I want to go.”

“Are these seats taken?”

Adam and I were just finishing dessert when Hunter walked over and pointed to two empty chairs across from us. The couple inhabiting them had skipped out a few minutes ago.

“Yes,” I lied.

Adam was kind enough to correct me. “Actually, Eric and Kim were sitting there. They just said goodbye two minutes ago, remember, Nat?”

A wide, gloating smile spread across Hunter’s face. He pulled out a chair for his wedding partner and seated himself directly across from me. “This is Cassie. She’s a tech goddess—graduated from Caltech. Have you met Adam, Cassie?”

Adam’s interest piqued. “We met briefly this afternoon. But I hadn’t realized you were in tech. I’m MIT. I work with Derek over at Clique in robotics programming.”

Conversation between Adam and Cassie took off like a runaway train. Neither of them even noticed the scowl I shot at the architect of this match made in geek heaven.

I leaned forward and smiled, speaking through my teeth. “I know what you’re doing.”

Hunter sat back in his seat with an ear-to-ear pompous grin. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“It’s not going to work.”

“Whatever you say. But I’m here if you need an alternate later.”

I finished off the coffee in my cup and adjusted the front of my dress to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage. Then I took my napkin from the table and discreetly dropped it on the floor. Picking up my fork, I scooped up a small piece of cheesecake and accidentally dropped it onto my cleavage.

Hunter watched the entire show with interest.

Leaning in, I wrapped my hand around Adam’s bicep. “Do you have a napkin? They must’ve taken mine when they cleared dinner, and I seem to have made a mess.”

Being a gentleman, Adam excused himself from his conversation and turned to give me his attention. His eyes dropped to the cheesecake, and I knew instantly that I’d won. Triumph roared from my smile as I allowed the techie to help me clean off. Hunter’s scowl felt like a victory.

To be honest, during dinner I’d decided I wasn’t sleeping with Adam anyway—I needed some sort of physical chemistry with a man, even for a one-night stand. But I enjoyed screwing with Hunter anyway.

“I’m a butterfingers when I’m tired,” I said to Adam. “I’m still on New York time. I think I’m going to head back to the hotel.”

“I’ll join you,” he promptly replied. Cassie who?

Hunter didn’t give up easily—I’d give him that much.

He stood. “I have a car here. I can give you two a ride. Are you ready to go, Cass? The four of us are all at the Carlisle, I’m assuming?”

I flashed Mr. Persistent my pearly whites and hooked my arm through Adam’s. “I have my rental car here, so Adam and I are good. Thank you so much for the offer, though, Tanner.”

“Hunter.”

“Right.” I smiled.

The hotel was only a mile up the road. As we entered, I spotted a few familiar faces—friends of the groom—in the lobby bar. The party seemed to have moved from the rehearsal dinner to the hotel. As we passed, one of the guys I recognized yelled for Adam to join them for a drink.

He looked to me before answering. “What do you say? You up for a nightcap?”

“I’m actually wiped out—time difference and all. But you go. Have fun.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. I’ll be sleeping before my head hits the pillow.”

Adam gave me a quick hug goodnight, and I headed to the elevator alone.

I really was exhausted. Anna and Derek had reserved the top floor of suites for guests traveling in from out of town, and I’d forgotten that I needed to insert my room key into the little slot on the elevator panel to gain access to the floor. After pushing the button a few times, I finally realized and dug into my purse to find the swipe card. I was preoccupied with the search until I heard that voice.

“Natalia.”

My head flew up to find Hunter standing in front of me with a shit-eating grin.

“You…”

“Me,” he said.

I looked around his wide, imposing frame. “Where’s your partner?”

He winked. “Left her at the bar with yours, so the two of them can get to know each other.”

“Won’t you be lonely, then?” I said with sarcasm.

“I might. But I can think of a way to fix that.”

“Going to take matters into your own hands, huh?”

I finally located my room key in my messy purse. Hunter chuckled and took it from my hand to slip into the slot. Of course we were on the same floor since we were part of the same wedding. When the doors slid closed, the elevator suddenly seemed very small. It didn’t help that Hunter hadn’t bothered to turn around when we started to move. He faced me, standing very close. My body definitely took note of the proximity.

“Don’t you have any elevator etiquette?” I asked. “Turn around and stare at the numbers like a normal person.”

“Why would I waste my time looking at that when the view is so much nicer facing this direction?”

“I’m not sleeping with you, you know.”

“Why not? You were gonna sleep with Adam.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“I’ve met Adam before. He’s a nice guy.”

“I’m a nice guy.”

“I don’t know you.”

Hunter slipped his hands into his pockets. “Hunter Delucia, age twenty-nine, single, never been married, no kids. Went to Berkeley for undergraduate and grad school. Degree in architectural engineering. Grew up next door to Derek, been friends since we were in the carriage. He’ll vouch for me as a decent guy. Own a home in Idyllwild, about an hour from the happy couple, with no mortgage. I also built it myself and have lots of trees on my property—that should get me extra points, by the way. Last doctor’s appointment was a month ago—clean as a whistle. And, most importantly…” He took a step closer to me; our bodies were practically touching. “I think you’re extremely sexy. There’s some insane chemistry here, and I think we should explore it.”

I swallowed. Luckily, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open on the top floor. Needing some air that didn’t smell like Hunter Delucia, I sidestepped around the tree of a man and exited. He followed right behind me. When I abruptly stopped, realizing I was going the wrong way, he walked right into me. His hands caught me, fingers pressing into my hips to stop me from falling forward.

“Wooo. You okay?”

“What the hell? You almost knocked me over.”

“You stopped short.”

“If you weren’t up my ass, you wouldn’t have walked into me.”

We were still standing in the middle of the hall, and he still had a firm grip on my hips…and it felt really good. God, it had been a long time for me. More than two years.

Those fingers squeezed a little harder, and his head dipped to whisper next to my ear. “You smell incredible.”

A fire burned under his touch. I shut my eyes. Hmmm…. He and Derek have been friends since they were little. He can’t be that bad of a guy. Maybe—

Thankfully, the other elevator saved me from doing something stupid. A few of Derek’s friends stepped off and didn’t seem to notice what was going on between Hunter and me.

“Hey, Delucia!” An arm wrapped around his shoulder. “Shots in our room.”

I shook some sense back into my head and used the opportunity to escape, practically running down the hall toward my room. Of course, my room had to be the last one at the end. Hunter yelled my name as I fumbled to get the key in the door. I ignored him and rushed inside. Leaning against the closed door, I let out a breath of relief.

What the hell am I doing? Get a grip, Nat. Literally running away from a man instead of just declining his offer or telling him to screw off? But something about this man made me feel restless and nervous—like I needed to run the other direction.

A soft knock at the door I was still leaning against made me jump.

“Natalia.”

Why the hell did he have to call me that? “I’m sleeping.”

I heard him chuckle. “Just wanted to tell you, my room is right next door. Even the hotel thinks we should sleep together.”

I shook my head, but smiled. “Goodnight, Hunter.”

“’Night, Natalia. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

— Natalia —

A team of people worked on the bride-to-be. Jack Johnson crooned about making waves, and the enormous bridal suite smelled of lilac—Anna’s favorite scent in the world. Every time I walked through the flower district in New York in the spring, I expected to see her around the corner.

Seeing me come in, she held a champagne flute up in her reflection in the mirror. “I’m getting fucking married.”

Normally, anything to do with marriage brought out my bitter and pessimistic side, but I tamped down my feelings on the subject for Anna’s sake. I took the flute from her hand and smiled back. “You’re getting fucking married.”

The stylist busy with her hair grinned and shook his head.

“We’re classy, what can I say?” I offered.

In two hours, my best friend would be walking down the aisle to marry a rich, nice looking, young techie, who worshipped the ground she walked on. It was a far cry from what my sham of a marriage had been.

“I saw Hunter follow you out the door last night,” Anna said. “Poor Cassie could barely keep up with how close he was to your tail.”

I needed my own mimosa for a discussion about that man. I finished Anna’s drink and went to the pitcher on the bar to refill hers and grab my own glass. “Do you remember when we were seventeen and I had that crush on Mr. Westbrook, the English substitute?”

“How could I forget? He was twenty-three and gorgeous.”

“Hunter’s…well, I’m not sure what to make of him, to be honest. He’s lewd, forward, persistent…sexy as hell.”

“Gorgeous, financially sound, confident, sexy as hell,” Anna added.

I sighed. “Yeah. All those. But there’s something about him…something I can’t put my finger on, that makes him feel as forbidden as Mr. Westbrook did in high school.”

Anna’s eyes flared at my reflection in the mirror. “Really?”

“What the hell are you smiling at, weirdo?”

“He feels forbidden because he gave you butterflies.”

“He did not,” I lied.

I wasn’t even sure why I was lying about it. Besides, the butterflies he gave me weren’t the usual kind that fluttered in your stomach—these flew a little farther south.

“Did too.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Then why not give in to it? You just said yourself that you thought he was sexy. You were thinking about sleeping with Adam, and he’s not half as sexy as Hunter.”

I thought back to the way Hunter’s hand had felt on my hip last night, and my belly fluttered once again. The damn things were teaming up with Anna to prove a point I wasn’t willing to accept.

“He’s too cocky for me.”

“You like cocky. In fact, every guy you’ve ever gone out with has been cocky.”

“Exactly.” I nodded. “I’m over cocky.”

Anna smirked and turned to her hairdresser. “She’s totally going to sleep with him.”

He looked up at me, then back to Anna. “I know.”

Derek and Anna married on a bluff overlooking the ocean. Even with my disdain for the institute of marriage, I cried tears of happiness. I’d noticed more than one of the groomsmen’s eyes filled, too. One, in particular, seemed to hold my attention. After the second time Hunter caught me checking out how handsome he looked with his tux and slicked-back hair, I’d managed to avoid making eye contact for the rest of the ceremony and the first hour of the reception. It wasn’t easy, considering we were in such close proximity for wedding-party duties, but somehow I succeeded.

Until I was dancing a slow song with Anna’s dad.

“Can I cut in?” Hunter tapped Mark on the shoulder. “You’re hogging the most beautiful guest all to yourself.”

Anna’s dad smiled and wagged a finger at Hunter. “You’re lucky you said guest, considering my bride looks so beautiful tonight.”

The two men did a bit of backslapping, and then I was in Hunter’s arms. Unlike Mark, who’d kept his body a polite distance from mine as we danced, Hunter took one of my hands in his, slid the other down my back and used it to pull my body flush. Damn, that feels good.

“You’re holding me a little tight.”

“Just making sure you can’t run away again.”

I pulled my head back. “Again? I’ve never run away from you.”

“Call it whatever you want, but you’ve been avoiding me like I have something contagious.”

I mumbled. “You probably do have something contagious.”

He ignored me. “You look beautiful tonight. I like your hair up.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled me still closer, forcing my head to turn into his shoulder, then dipped down to whisper in my ear. “I can’t wait to yank it down later.”

What balls on this guy.

And, God, why the hell did I want him to yank my hair down?

“You’re out of your mind. In fact, just about everything you’ve said to me since we met has been inappropriate.”

“So only you can talk about your plans to fuck someone? I can’t?”

“I haven’t talked about my plans to sleep with anyone.”

“You were talking to Anna about sleeping with Adam when we met.”

“That was a private conversation.”

He shrugged. “So’s this.”

“But…” I was at a loss—partly because he was sort of right. In my mind, it was okay to talk about sleeping with someone to a third person, yet it was wrong for him to be so blunt when speaking directly to the party potentially involved. It didn’t really make sense, but I grasped at a reason that sounded logical. “You’re crass about it. I wasn’t explicit. It’s how you say it that’s offensive, not what you say.”

“So you don’t like dirty talk? Maybe you haven’t had it done the right way before.”

“I’ve had it done just fine.”

“You do like dirty talk, then?”

This man was impossible. Luckily for my sanity—and possibly my willpower—the song we were dancing to ended, and the DJ announced that it was time for dinner. Although Hunter still didn’t loosen his grip.

“The dance is over. You can let go now.”

“Save me another one later?”

I smiled broadly. “Not a chance.”

Of course, Hunter liked that answer. He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Bet you’re a firecracker in bed. I can’t wait.”

“Enjoy your evening, Mr. Delucia.”

I felt his eyes on my ass every step I took to exit the dance floor.

I’d only been legally single for not quite eighteen months. I had no intention of remarrying, so when it was time for the obligatory tossing of the bridal bouquet, I stayed in my seat. Of course, Anna wasn’t going to allow that. She grabbed the microphone out of the DJ’s hand and insisted that I, along with a few others who were shying away from this particular festivity, get our asses out on the dance floor. Rather than make a scene, I complied, though I intentionally stayed all the way off to the side by myself. I wanted nothing to do with that bouquet.

The DJ prompted the audience to count down the toss as Anna stood in the middle of the floor with her back to all the anxious, single ladies.

“3, 2, 1!”

The big toss over the bride’s head never came. Instead, she turned and threw the damn thing directly to where I was standing off to the side. On instinct, I caught the hurtling bundle of flowers.

Grrr. I wanted to kill her.

Especially when I looked across the room and saw Hunter exaggerating the cracking of his knuckles with a big ol’ smile on his face as he stared back at me.

Ten minutes later, I stood by Anna’s side watching the dance floor fill up with single men eager to catch the garter her husband had just removed. My hand clutched a strong vodka cranberry, should I need some liquid courage.

“If Hunter catches that thing, I’m going to kill you.”

“Those who protest the loudest generally have the most to hide.”

“Those who cause trouble get their skinny little asses kicked,” I tossed back.

“He’s a really great guy. I could think of worse people to stick their hands up your dress.”

“If he’s so great, tell me again why he wasn’t my partner?”

Anna sighed. “He’s smart, confident, and a total charmer.”

“And…”

“And I’ve also known him for four years now, and every time I see him, he’s with a different beautiful woman. I thought after Garrett, you might want a different type.”

I downed half my drink at the mention of my ex-husband. “Why am I attracted to assholes?”

“Because they’re attractive. That’s part of what makes them turn into assholes. And Hunter’s not a bad guy. He’s really not. I bet he’s great in bed, too. If I were in your shoes, I’d pick Hunter over Adam for a one-night stand.” She turned to face me. “Hunter’s sex, not love. As long as you go in with that frame of mind, I bet he blows your mind.”

A sudden loud roar called our attention back to the action. We’d missed Derek’s toss of the garter, but there was no missing the cocky smile on the man twirling the garter on his finger and looking in my direction.

“Any chance you aren’t sticking with the East Coast tradition where the guy who catches the garter puts it on the leg of the woman who catches the bouquet?”

Anna smirked. “Not a chance in hell.”

The drinks went straight to my head. After I downed the vodka cranberry I had while standing with Anna, I proceeded to order another and finish it off in record time. Which meant I had a nice buzz flowing by the time the DJ set up a lone chair in the middle of the dance floor and called my name. Derek and Anna also joined us as the entire wedding guest population looked on.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Nat?” the DJ said, tapping the chair. “Our beautiful bride left it up to the gentleman who caught the garter to select the song. I figured we’d give you a sample and see if it works for you since it’s your dress he’s gonna be under.”

The DJ pressed a button on his iPad, and music began to blare—AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long,” to be specific. After ten seconds, he hit another button, and the music silenced.

He spoke into the microphone again. “So what do you think? Has Hunter here picked the right song for the evening?”

I shook my head as the crowd laughed, and Hunter’s eyes gleamed.

“Alright then. Maybe we’re better off letting you pick the song. You have something in mind that seems more fitting, perhaps?”

I thought for a moment and then waved the DJ down so I could whisper in his ear.

He smiled and pushed more buttons on his iPad before speaking to Hunter. “I’m starting to pick up on a little disparity here—maybe some messages you two are hiding in your song choices.”

Hunter looked at me, and I shrugged just as the DJ started my song choice. Jason Derulo’s “Ridin’ Solo” blared overhead, and Hunter bent his head back in laughter. After everyone got a good laugh, the DJ told the crowd he thought things would run smoother if he picked the song.

So Hunter kneeled down on one knee to Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies.” Of course, he was quite the showman. He twirled the garter around on his pointer finger while gracing the onlookers with a megawatt smile. Then, he slowly lifted my foot, dropped a soft kiss on the top of it, and slipped the garter up my calf.

“Do we have a gentleman today?” the DJ asked over the microphone. “Will he go any higher?”

The wicked gleam in Hunter’s eyes told me he was not planning on being a gentleman. For the next few minutes, through chants of higher from the male portion of the wedding party, Hunter inched the garter up my leg. And he wasn’t just moving it along. His thumb lazily stroked the inside of my leg as he went. When he reached mid-thigh, he squeezed my leg to get my attention, and our eyes locked.

Then his hand kept going.

I hated that I didn’t stop him. I hated that my hands just sat dutifully by my sides, and my normally boisterous voice seemed to have been muzzled. But the reaction of my body made it impossible to object. The effect of his one hand was profound. My nipples pebbled, my breaths grew shallow, and goose bumps covered my skin. I was way more turned on than I should’ve been. And it wasn’t just his hand—it was the way he watched me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was just as aroused as I was—and that really worked for me.

Hunter’s fingers grazed along at a slow and sensual pace, reaching the tippy top of the inside of my thigh. I could feel the heat of his hand radiating between my legs.

Even though we had a crowd watching, thanks to my bridesmaid’s dress, no one could see how far he’d gone. And while the entire crazy scene played out in erotic slow motion for me, Beyoncé wasn’t even done singing to the single ladies yet.

Hunter let his hand slip down to my knee and squeezed as he leaned in. “Don’t try to tell me I was the only one to feel that.”

The DJ asked everyone to give a round of applause, and Hunter kissed my cheek, stood, and held out his hand to help me up. I was still in a complete daze.

Anna’s brows drew down. “You okay?”

I cleared my throat. “I need a drink.”

“How about the four of us head to the bar for a drink?” Anna’s new husband said.

One drink led to two, two led to three, and three led to…

— Natalia —

God, I feel awful.

My head was pounding, and my muscles ached. There was a damp spot on my pillow from where I must’ve drooled half the night. Without lifting my head, I glanced around the room and saw my suitcase on the stand in the corner—Jesus, I don’t even remember coming back to my hotel room. But I was damn glad I was here, rather than next door. I tried to think back to the last thing I remembered. Catching the bouquet, Hunter catching the garter, his hand under my dress.

Oh God. I felt like royal shit, yet that memory still stirred something inside me.

I remembered the four of us going to the bar—me, Anna, Derek, and Hunter. Hunter toasting to the three things you need most in life—a full bottle, a faithful friend, a beautiful woman—and to the man who has it all. I remembered Anna and Derek being called away for some pictures, and Hunter ordering us another round and telling me stories about him and Derek when they were little. He was definitely a natural charmer, but there was also something very endearing about the way he talked about his friend.

After that, things got fuzzy. I couldn’t for the life of me remember leaving the wedding or coming back to the hotel. Reaching over to the nightstand, I grabbed my phone to check the time. Shit. It was almost ten, and my flight was at one. I was just about to drag my lagging ass out of bed when a noise stopped me in my tracks.

It almost sounded like a snore.

A snore with deep vibrato.

I’d been lying on my side, and my head whipped around to look for the sound.

I froze, finding the source.

Froze.

I was pretty sure my heart skipped a beat or two.

A man lay in the bed next to me, facing the other direction. And from the width of his shoulders, I knew it wasn’t just any man. Yet I needed confirmation. Holding my breath, I leaned over the massive body and glimpsed at the face. Just as I caught sight of Hunter, he let out another loud snore, and I leapt from the bed. I stilled on my feet once I’d gotten control of myself, not wanting to wake him.

Shit. What did I do?

I tiptoed into the bathroom with my heart racing and my brain desperately trying to remember something from last night—anything that involved Hunter Delucia inside my room.

Inside me.

This was worse than my worst night in college. How could I not remember anything? My reflection answered me—I looked like death warmed over. My raven hair was a knotted ball—half up, half down with bobby pins falling out all over. My normally fair skin was paler than usual, and my green eyes were red and puffy.

It was then that I finally looked down. I was dressed in a T-shirt and sweats, but underneath I was still wearing a bra and panties. Forget that I didn’t remember getting dressed; this made me pause and wonder why I was dressed. Once my bra came off, it didn’t go back on. Not to mention, I wasn’t shy about my body—it wasn’t my M.O. to get myself fully re-dressed after a night of passion.

Is it possible we slept together and didn’t have sex?

I reached my hand down into my sweatpants and pressed against my privates. I wasn’t sore at all. Although that wasn’t proof positive—maybe the giant of a man currently snoring in my bed wasn’t anatomically correct and was a gentle lover. Neither seemed plausible.

I checked the garbage can for signs of a condom and the towel rack to see if any towels had been used to clean up last night. Nothing. But yet, I was a mess—it looked like I’d had wild and crazy sex…

Unfortunately—or perhaps it was fortunately—I didn’t have time to dwell on what had happened. If I wasn’t on my way to the airport in the next fifteen minutes, I was going to miss my flight.

After a quick shower, I dried off and tiptoed back out to my suitcase. I collected my clothes, but the garter that had started this mess was nowhere to be found, and I was disappointed I wouldn’t have it as a keepsake.

Hunter still hadn’t moved. In fact, he was snoring louder and more consistently now. I rushed to dress, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and rubbed some moisturizer on my face before shoving everything into my suitcase.

I was about to sneak out when I decided I needed to know what had happened. Leaving my suitcase at the door for a quick escape, I quietly walked over to Hunter’s side of the bed.

Of course, unlike me, he looked just as good this morning as he had last night. I took a moment to appreciate that. His coppery brown hair was disheveled, but somehow even sexier than it had been slicked back last night. Thick, dark lashes framed closed, almond-shaped eyes—eyes that I recalled were a startling light blue.

His gentle snoring continued at a consistent pace, so I took a deep breath and stepped closer. I needed to see what was under the sheet. His chest was bare, but was he wearing pants under there?

One more step.

I stopped again to stare at his face before making my final move. He was still out cold. Or, so I thought…

Reaching out, I picked up the edge of the sheet and lifted ever so gently. Then I leaned forward to peer underneath.

Holy shit.

He was wearing boxer briefs.

But…he had a morning erection. A huge bulge protruded from his tight underwear. There’s no way that thing had been inside of me. I’d have to be at least a little sore.

Feeling relieved (with an odd sense of regret and longing after seeing that behemoth of an appendage), I set the sheet back down and turned to walk away. A large hand gripped my wrist.

“You’d remember it, sweetheart. Trust me.” Hunter’s gravelly voice carried a hint of amusement.

“I…I was looking for something.”

One eyebrow perked. “Oh yeah? What were you looking for?”

“My shoe.”

His lip twitched. “What color is it?”

I scrambled to remember what shoes I’d even brought on this trip. “Black with a silver bar across the front.”

Hunter’s eyes dropped to my feet. Fuck.

He looked back up at me. “Found it for you.”

I trained my eyes down at my shoes to avoid his intense stare. “Oh. Silly me. I overslept, and I’m out of sorts. I need to run or I’m going to miss my flight.” I went to pull away, but his grip on my wrist tightened.

“You’re not going anywhere before you do two things.”

“Two things?”

“Leave your number and kiss me goodbye.”

“I…I…you haven’t brushed your teeth.”

Hunter chuckled. It felt like he could see through all of my bullshit. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed his phone and held it out to me before getting up. “Toothpaste in the bathroom still?”

“The little one the hotel sets out.”

“I’ll brush. You type.”

While he was in the bathroom, I mulled over not typing anything into his phone. There was no way I was keeping in touch with a man living three-thousand miles away. A guy like him was the last thing I needed. But then I thought better of just telling him I’d put my number in. He seemed to have figured me out pretty quick. So instead, I typed my name and number, only I changed the last two digits.

And it was a good thing I did, because when Hunter returned from his bathroom trip, the first thing he did was check that I’d entered something. Luckily, he didn’t attempt to call me. Satisfied, he tossed his phone on the bed and nodded.

“Thank you. Now kiss me.”

I could see he wasn’t going to let me leave without this. So, sacrificing to make my plane, I pushed up on my toes and delivered a quick peck to his lips.

Mmm.... Nice and soft.

(And minty fresh.)

“Well…it was nice to meet you.” I turned to dart out the door, but Hunter grabbed my wrist yet again.

“I said kiss me.”

“I did!”

“Kiss me the way you kissed me last night.”

Before I could even attempt to let that sink in, Hunter yanked me against him. One of his large hands cupped the back of my neck, and he squeezed firmly to direct my head where he wanted it. Then, his lips crashed down on mine.

The shock of feeling his mouth against mine quickly dissipated as he licked my lips, encouraging me to open for him. His tongue dipped inside, and he groaned as he tilted my head and deepened the kiss. The vibration of the sound traveled between us and sent a hum through my body. Soft and gentle went out the window after that. He grabbed a fistful of my ass, and I lifted my body up onto his, wrapping my legs around his waist. As he backed us to the wall, a sense of familiarity overcame me. I couldn’t remember the specifics of our previous kiss, but I now knew deep inside what it had felt like.

My cell dropped from my hand so my fingers could tangle in his hair. Yanking on the soft strands, I couldn’t get enough. A moan from deep inside my chest moved through our connected mouths. Hunter pushed harder, his thick erection pressing into the center of my open legs. He rocked as he kissed me, causing a friction through two layers of clothing that was leading me to a place I didn’t think it was possible to go fully dressed.

It felt like he wanted to swallow me whole, and in that moment, I would have let him. My breasts were crushed to his chest, and a heartbeat raged out of control—only I wasn’t sure if it was my own or his. Jesus, where does a man learn to kiss like this?

I was breathless and stunned when our kiss broke. Hunter sucked on my bottom lip, tugging it before releasing my mouth.

His voice was strained. “Change your flight. We’re not done here.”

I swallowed, trying to gain some composure. “I can’t.” My voice was barely a whisper. It was all I could muster.

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

“Can’t. Izzy comes home today.”

Hunter pulled his head back, giving me some room to breathe, some room to speak. “Izzy?”

“My stepdaughter who hates my guts.”

— Hunter —

12 years ago

Damn. I’m going to the wrong school.

It was the hottest day I could remember. The car radio said it was already a hundred and four out, but it was the unusual humidity in Los Angeles that made it unbearable. Since I was a few hours early to meet my brother and didn’t know my way around his campus, I took a seat on a brick staircase across from a fountain in a wide-open field, hoping to catch a breeze. That breeze didn’t show, but something a fuck of a lot better did. The most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen walked up to the circular fountain a hundred feet away, slipped off her shoes, stepped up on the ledge, and jumped into the thing. She dove under and came up for air, pushing her soaked blond hair off her face.

People passing by glanced over at her, but she didn’t seem to notice or care one bit. She floated on her back in what was probably only two feet of water. The smile on her face was contagious, and I found myself mesmerized watching her. It had been almost a month since my mother died, and feeling that happy and free seemed like a lifetime ago.

After a few minutes, the girl sat up and looked in my direction. “Are you gonna join me, or are you just gonna watch from over there like a creeper?”

I looked around to make sure she was talking to me. No one else was in the vicinity. So I got up and walked over to the fountain.

“Is this some sort of a sorority-initiation thing?”

She smiled. “Will it make you feel better if I say yes? Because you were looking at me like I was a weirdo from back there.”

“I wasn’t looking at you like you were a weirdo.”

“It looked that way to me.”

I kicked off my shoes and climbed into the fountain. “I was looking at you wondering if you always smile this way or if cooling off just really made you happy.”

She tilted her head to the side, studying me. “What’s not to be happy about? We’re alive, aren’t we?”

The cool water felt damn good. We floated around in silence for a while, smiling each time one of us caught the other looking.

“I’m Summer,” she said.

“Hunter.”

“Do you like the heat?”

“Not like this.”

“What’s your favorite season, Hunter?”

I smirked. “Summer.”

She paddled over to the edge of the fountain and leaned her elbows on the brick, watching the never-ending spray of water in the center. I followed suit, positioning myself next to her and trying not to stare down at her nipples protruding through her wet T-shirt. It wasn’t an easy task.