Page 120 of Hard to Handle

HUNTER’S SITTING AT THE KITCHEN table with the soft glow of the overhead fixture the only light in the room. He’s slumped in his seat, but his attention is completely fixed on the laptop in front of him.

He’s exhausted. I can see it in his eyes, in his posture, in the way he crashed when he hit the pillow earlier tonight.

So why’s he up now?

This second round of playoffs has been grueling for him. With Finch out from a blown knee and Katz limping to the finish, if the Jacks can clinch a spot in the finals tomorrow, they’ll have a few extra days rest while the other series still has at least two games left.

Regardless, the pressure on Hunter is tenfold, whether it’s self-inflicted or not.

Not wanting to disturb him, but also wanting to be near him, I stand where I am at the bottom of the stairs and look around the common area of his house. Where my place is orderly and every piece has its place, his is an array of mismatched things that don’t look cluttered when they should, and that shouldn’t fit together, but do.

Kind of like us.

“Hey,” he murmurs and pulls my attention to him.

“What are you doing up?” I ask as I move toward him. “You’re exhausted.”

“Can’t sleep.” He smiles as I lean my butt against the table so I can face him. My love for him is growing each and every day in ways I’m not sure I could ever have imagined. “Trying to crack their defense.” His hand flicks to his laptop where he’s watching film of the Eagles. “It looks so simple watching it but when you’re on the ice, when you’re bearing down on it, it feels fucking formidable.”

“You’re pretty formidable yourself, Maddox.”

“I didn’t feel like it last night.”

I run my fingers through his hair and he lets his head fall back with a sigh. His eyes close, and I can see the wear and tear from his need and will and want and drive for this to happen.

I know it’s for him, but I also know it’s for Jonah too.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” I murmur, and lean over and press a kiss to his lips. His body jolts with awareness and his eyes flutter open. “You know, you said your dad used to train you hard for hours and hours. Does he know the game as much as you do? Would he have insight you can’t see being so close to the ice? Would he have any suggestions for you on how to break the defense?”

I’m not sure how he’ll take my question, but a part of me feels like this fence needs to be mended if it can be for him to heal and move forward.

“Not an option.” He moves the laptop out of the way and then uses his hands to guide my hips so I stand before him, his hands dipping beneath the hem of my shirt. “How about you sit right here and let me taste you.”

Well, that’s a change of topic if I’ve ever seen one. I thought he might be angry at my suggestion or stalk off and go to bed, but this? This is definitely him deflecting, and who am I to tell him no? Hell no. Not with a tongue like Hunter’s.

I scoot up on his table, my bare ass feeling the chill of the wood beneath me, lean back on one of my hands, and spread my thighs.

That sigh. That smile. I’m thinking that sex might tire him out, relax him, and get him to sleep.

“You need some inspiration, huh?” I murmur as our eyes hold and I slide my finger down between my slit. A moan falls from my lips as my eyes close. My head falls back when I rub the pad of my finger on my clit and down to find myself already wet for him.

His groan matches how I feel sitting here, bared to him and so very aroused.

“Inspiration?” he asks, his eyelids falling heavy with desire as one hand reaches out and squeezes the tops of my thigh.

“Mm-hmm.” The lazy friction mixed with his hands on me and his eyes a reflection of his own desire, is extremely arousing. Even more so is feeling comfortable to do this in front of him, the vulnerability of it only making it seem so much more.

“First little victories and now inspiration?” His smile widens.

“At your service,” I murmur and sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “Inspiration comes in so many different places.”

“Like here?” he asks, and I suck in a breath when Hunter’s thumbs slide up and down the side of my sex. It’s a hint of touch, but I feel it in every nerve all the way to my toes. “Or here?” His fingers push my hand out of the way and part me so the cool night air hits my most intimate parts.

Hunter looks up at me, a devilish grin on his lips and unmistakable desire in his eyes. They hold mine on the slow descent of his head between my thighs. “I’m thinking right here is an even better place.”

And when his mouth touches me, when the warmth of his lips close over my clit, and then the heat of his tongue slides down its path to my core, when his fingers join the mix in an all-out sensual assault, all I can do is brace myself on the table behind me and let him find all the inspiration he needs.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR