“I want you in my bed. I’m not gonna get you off in a damn barn with Molls and Lucky watching us.”
My jaw drops. “Is that what you want? To get me off?”
Hunter laughs, though it sounds strained and harsh. “I want to make you feel so good you sob, sweetheart.”
My dick jerks, largely on board with that plan. But just because it is right now… “Sometimes I have a hard time… uh, getting hard, and also, well… coming.” Fuck, that sucks to admit.
Hunter slides a hand down my stomach, and I don’t flinch even though I want to. My problems with my body are my own, and given the way his eyes are boring into mine, he’s not bothered.
Besides, he doesn’t linger. He just keeps going until he’s cupping my dick through my jeans. I gasp, my hips jerking forward.
“Doesn’t seem to be a problem right now, does it?”
I shake my head, barely resisting the urge to thrust into his hand. “No. It’s not a problem right now.”
“So let me take care of you, and if it becomes a problem, then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Leaning in, he rubs his nose along mine again. “Do you want that, sweetheart? Do you want me to lay you out in my bed and make you feel good?”
I let my head fall back, and Hunter uses the opportunity to press his warm lips to my throat.
“Yeah, I do.” Fuck, I really do. So much. “Please.”
“Let’s go.” I let out a surprised sound when Hunter dips down and lifts me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, an almost manic giggle bursting from my lips.
“God, most beautiful sound around. I’m getting you from point A to point B as quick as I damn well can.”
Who the hell am I to argue with that?
Hunter carries me all the way into the house and straight up the stairs. Honestly, I figured the detour would trip up my dick, and it would be over it. If anything, though, I’m more turned on now than I was before.
He drops me onto the bed, then crawls over my body, pressing his weight down on mine. “Triggers or anything I should know about?”
“Don’t wrap your hand around my throat. That’s it.”
“Got it.”
Hunter slams his mouth down on mine, and my back arches. Fingers tangle in my hair, and moans vibrate in my throat, and everything is so much and somehow not enough.
Pulling back with a broken groan, Hunter stares down at me. “What about your stomach?”
God, I fucking hate this so much. “Sometimes the scar is sensitive. It’s mostly just really ugly.” I turn my head to avoid his gaze, but he grips my chin and turns me back.
“Nothing about you is ugly.”
Agree to disagree, but I’m sure that’s not what he wants to hear. “Okay.”
Climbing off me, Hunter strips his shirt over his head, and holy fuck. His muscles are defined, his shoulders broad, and his chest covered in a light dusting of hair. I’ve seen him without a shirt before, but I was mostly trying to not ogle him. This time, I look my fill.
He unbuttons his jeans, then works them free of his body, leaving him in only tented boxer shorts.
“Can I undress you? If you feel better about leaving your shirt on, we can.”
I shake my head. No. I want him to see everything. “You can undress me. That way, if you don’t like what you see… we know. And then we don’t have to do this again.”
His brow furrows, but he doesn’t respond to that. After sitting me up, he pulls my shirt over my head. I lie back on the bed, breathing deeply so I can appear as calm as possible.
I chance a look at him. He’s staring down at me, his chest heaving and his eyes trained on my body. I’m not sure what I expected. Disgust, maybe? What I get instead is pure lust. His pupils are so wide I can’t make out the color of his eyes, and his bottom lip is wet, like maybe he licked it.
