“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “Ride me just like that. God, I could stay inside you forever.”
My head falls back, lost to the feeling, lost to him. I’m soaked from more than just the tub. I’m dripping with need, with love, with everything I never thought I’d get to feel.
And when I come—again—it’s with a scream and a happy sob. I collapse against his chest, panting, trembling.
He doesn’t stop moving, even then. He wraps his arms around me and thrusts up, chasing his own release.
“I’m close,” he groans, voice wild. “You want it, baby? Want to feel me?”
“Yes,” I whimper. “Inside. Fill me up.”
With a growl, he slams into me one last time and holds me there, locked to his body as he spills inside me in hot, pulsing waves.
We cling to each other, breathless, wrecked, and brand new.
It’s everything I never knew I needed.
Now I just have to tell my parents.
36
FAITH
Iwake to the smell of coffee.
It’s rich, dark, comforting. I stretch beneath soft sheets, every muscle deliciously sore, and let my hand drift across the space beside me—empty, but still warm.
I hear him in the kitchen, humming under his breath.
Padding out in one of his oversized tees, I find Hunter at the counter, shirtless, hair still a mess, pouring two mugs like this is something we’ve done a hundred times. Like this is normal.
Like this is us now.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he says, handing me a mug.
I take a sip, then immediately grimace. “Do you have any sweetener?”
He pauses. “Sweetener?”
“Yeah, like…stevia or whatever.”
He raises an eyebrow, sets down his mug. “You think Thor the Trucker keeps stevia in his pantry?”
“I think Hunter the Heartbreaker maybe should.”
He grins. “You want some, I’ll go get you some.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” he says simply. “Come on. We’ll make it a morning adventure.”
Ten minutes later we’re walking the aisles of a tiny local grocery store, barefoot in sandals, hair damp, clothes casual. I grab the sweetener. He grabs a pint of ice cream and a bottle of whiskey.
“For breakfast?” I ask, smirking.
“Emergency stash. Just in case you leave and I spiral.”
We’re standing in the refrigerated section, our little morning errand turning into a full-on adventure. The fluorescent lights flicker softly above us, the store mostly quiet except for the hum of coolers and the low murmur of old country music drifting through overhead speakers.
