Page 104 of Hunter

“You started it.” I nip his bottom lip once. “With that hoodie. And those jeans. And the way you keep pressing your ass back against me like you’re testing my patience. Besides, I’m pretty sure we are one of the few people at the zoo today. Everyone else is doing something that’s a little warmer.”

“I can think of something warmer to do.”

“Jesus, Charlie,” I groan as he spins in my arms again, facing away. Then he deliberately grinds back against me.

“Oops,” he says, all fake innocence. “My bad.”

I tighten my arms around him, one hand splaying possessively over his stomach. “You’re lucky we’re in public, trouble.”

Charlie tilts his head back against my shoulder, looking up at me with dark, hooded eyes. “Am I?”

The look he gives me over his shoulder is pure sin. I have to take a slow breath to keep from kissing him stupid right here in front of the entire zoo. Even if there aren’t many people around.

“You’re going to pay for this later,” I warn, voice low.

His grin turns feral. “I’m counting on it.”

We stay like that for a few more minutes—me wrapped around him from behind, hands under his hoodie, trading whispered filthy promises and soft kisses to his temple while the wolves pace in front of us. Every now and then, he’ll roll his hips back against me just to torture me, and I’ll tighten my grip in retaliation.

Eventually, he turns in my arms again and looks up at me with a softer expression.

“Take me home, Hunter,” he says quietly, no teasing this time. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

I search his face for even a flicker of hesitation and find none.

“You sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The door to Charlie’s apartment barely clicks shut before I have him pressed against it.

My mouth is on his the second the lock turns, hungry and deep, and he meets me just as fiercely. His hands fist in my shirt, yanking me closer, while mine slide under his cropped hoodie and spread across his warm, bare skin. He tastes like the mint gum he popped on the walk home and the faint sweetness of the iced tea he drank at the zoo. I groan into his mouth when his tongue slides against mine like he’s been thinking about this the entire way back too.

“Fuck, Charlie,” I rasp against his lips. “Tell me again you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he breathes, already tugging at the hem of my shirt. “I want this. I want you. All of you.”

I pull the hoodie over his head in one smooth motion and drop it to the floor. My hands are everywhere—mapping the lean lines of his chest, the dip of his waist, the way his ribs expand with every shaky breath. He’s gorgeous like this, flushed and eager, pupils blown wide. I kiss down his throat, sucking lightly at the spot that always makes him whimper, and he does exactly that, head falling back against the door with a soft thud.

Sofia meows somewhere near our feet, clearly annoyed at being ignored, but neither of us stops. Charlie laughs breathlessly into my mouth and kicks off his shoes, then tugs me toward the bed.

“Bed,” he pants. “Now.”

We stumble the short distance, shedding clothes as we go. My clothes hit the floor. His jeans are next—I peel them down his thighs, dropping to my knees to help him step out of them. The sight of him in nothing but black briefs, hard and leaking against the fabric, makes my mouth water.

I look up at him from the floor. “Still okay?”

Charlie threads his fingers through my hair and nods, eyes dark. “More than okay. Get up here.”

I stand and kiss him again, my fingers going into the band of his briefs and pushing them off while walking us backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He falls onto it, pulling me down on top of him. Our bodies slot together like they were made for this—skin on skin, heat against heat. I grind down against him once, and he arches up with a broken moan.

“Lube,” he gasps. “Nightstand. Top drawer.”

I reach for it without breaking the kiss, fumbling the cap open one-handed. Charlie takes the bottle from me, slicking his fingers first before handing it back. He watches me with heavy-lidded eyes as I coat my own fingers, then slick up my cock.

“You’re in charge this time,” I tell him, voice rough. “Whatever you want. However you want it. I’m yours.”

His breath catches. He pushes me onto my back and straddles my hips, knees bracketing my waist. The sight of him like this—flushed, hard, hovering over me with that mix of nerves and hunger—is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.