Bury the Hatchet (15 page)

“Will you kiss me again? I really want you to kiss me right now.”

Hunter searched my eyes for so long he must have been looking for a sign. That I’d lied about Lance? That I was telling the truth? That I really wanted what I’d asked him for? I couldn’t be sure, but then he moved one of his hands up to cup the back of my head, and his mouth was on mine.

It was a greedy kiss—not even remotely gentle—his tongue demanding entrance against the seam of my lips until I opened for him. He delved inside, our tongues tangling until I could do nothing more than hold on for the ride. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bracing myself against his assault even as I drew him closer. My nipples peaked, hardened nubs pressing into his muscled chest, and I could feel wetness accumulating in my bikini bottoms.

I let out a sigh, much like the ones I’d released as I’d read earlier. I couldn’t help it. That only seemed to goad him further. He growled from somewhere deep in his chest, drawing me off the beach chair until I was on my knees in the sand in front of him, our bodies pressed tightly together.

He nipped my lower lip, and I gasped at the sharp sensation. It was more surprising than painful, just a slight sting that turned to a deprived throb a second later. I could feel his male grin against my skin as he kissed the line of my jaw and down my neck, nibbling just often enough to keep me on my toes.

I splayed my hands over his shoulders, marveling at the corded strength under my touch. Everything about him was hard.
Everything.
Especially his cock. It was hot, pressing into my belly. I stretched up as far as I could, instinctively grinding my hips into him, trying to get my heat lined up with his.

And just like that, he broke it off, separating himself from me like I’d struck him.

Still in a daze, I stared at him while I tried to steady myself. His chest was rising and falling, his breathing as harsh and ragged as mine. His pupils were dilated, more black than green visible in his eyes. He wanted me. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, but he didn’t want to. That much was obvious.

I pushed up from the sand, wobbling slightly as I brushed it from my legs before I sat on the beach chair again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of gravel.

Not nearly as sorry as I was.

I FUCKING LOVE
eating pussy.

There are few things in life I enjoy more than going down on a chick and hearing her sounds of pleasure, feeling her hands fisting in my hair as she directs me where she wants me, and tasting the fruits of my labor. Watching a woman come? Feeling her sex clench around my fingers, my tongue, my cock? It’s fucking heaven. There are times I’d rather take a woman to orgasm than find my own.

And right now? Tallie was aroused as all hell. I could tell. She was hot and ready, so much so that I could feel her heat and smell the evidence. If I wanted to take her back to our suite, strip her down, and lick her pussy until she experienced climax after mind-blowing climax, I had no doubt she would let me. She wouldn’t stop me if I wanted to fuck her afterward, either. I had no doubt I could pound into her as long as I could keep it up, and considering I was harder than steel right now, I knew I could go a long fucking time.

I was ready. She was ready. More than that, she was willing. I’d done that to her.

She was also drunk as all hell.

I’d done that to her, too.

We’d been sitting by the bar on the beach for hours, and I’d brought her cocktail after cocktail even though she’d long since had more than enough. I couldn’t seem to help myself. After I’d brought her the first one, and she’d acted like I’d just handed her the keys to the castle, I’d just wanted to do whatever would make her happy. Her face had lit up like a fucking fireworks display the second she’d taken a sip of that fruity drink, brighter than the sun overhead. It was like she’d never had a cocktail before.

And once I thought about that, I realized that might very well be the case. She might not have ever had a cocktail in her life, or if she had it had likely only been on extremely rare occasions. Lance probably didn’t let her drink because alcohol had too many calories or some other shit like that.

Thinking about him had only pissed me off. I was even more pissed off because I’d finally had the opportunity to talk to Carrie since the wedding. Just as I’d expected, she’d thought it was for the best to stay home with Kaylee once she’d found out that Kade would be there. I couldn’t disagree with that. Keeping Kaylee away from her father needed to be the number one thing any of the responsible adults in her life would do.

The fact that, once again, my brother had put himself and what he wanted before everyone else—at Mom’s urging, no less—made me see red, so I’d tried to drown my anger in my beer. Then I wanted another, and every time I’d gone back to get myself a beer, I’d brought her another umbrella drink. She’d downed each and every one of them with the same sweet glee, but she was well past her limit right now, and that meant I should have kept my fucking hands and mouth to myself, no matter what she asked me to do.

It didn’t matter that she was technically my wife; consent from a drunk didn’t count as consent. If I took her back to the hotel and fucked her now, I would be no better than Kade with the way he’d treated Chantel. I’d be damned if I was going to stoop to his fucking level. Not going to happen.

Tallie’s sexy pout was going to kill me, though. I wanted to kiss it right off her lips. “Come on,” I said, reaching out a hand for her to take. “We should go inside.” She needed to sleep her drunk off, and I needed a cold shower.

“But you just put more sunscreen on me.”

That had been part of the problem. Once I’d gotten my hands on her skin, I hadn’t wanted to stop. It was like silk beneath my touch. I didn’t know how someone could get to be a teenager, even, with skin as perfect as hers, let alone someone who spent so much time caked with makeup and all sorts of other shit that she didn’t need at all. It was smooth to the touch, though, and hot. Not just from being out in the sun, either. Apparently, Tallie’s libido liked booze.

And mine liked Tallie.

I helped her to her feet, putting my arm around her waist to keep her upright. That only caused her scent to waft up to my nostrils and taunt me. She smelled like fruity drinks and sex, a potent combination.

I gathered up my phone and her iPad, tossed them in the beach bag with our towels and sandals, and slung the bag over my shoulder. Then I started hauling her back toward the hotel.

“You’re no fun,” she said, coming along beside me.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me for the next year.”

She took a deep, sighing breath. “I’m going to need a lot more mai tais to get through a whole year of you being so cranky all the time.”

Was I cranky? She probably wasn’t too far off the mark, and the fact that I wanted to toss her on the bed and relieve all the sexual tension between us likely only intensified the effect, since that wasn’t going to happen. Not any time soon. Particularly not while she was so toasted.

I dug the key card out of the pocket in my swim trunks and swiped the door handle, pushing it open. Our suite had a door that opened out right onto the beach, so we never had to go too far for some fun and sun. Tallie nearly tripped on her way across the threshold, so I picked her up to carry her inside.

She put an arm around my shoulder, her face mere inches from mine. The look in her amber eyes was just as heated and needy as before, and her lips were parted. Ready. Waiting.

Fucking hell, she was going to kill me.

I kicked the door closed behind us and tossed the bag on the closest chair before carrying her to her room. Then I set her down on the edge of the bed.

She’d tangled her hand in my hair, apparently, and she tried to tug me down with her, lying flat on her back and drawing her legs up around my waist.

“Touch me,” she said, her voice all sultry and husky and slurred.

“I can’t tell you how bad I want to do exactly that,” I muttered.

“So do it. I want to feel your hands on me.”

She was using hers to great effect, one gripping my hair and keeping me trapped, the other trailing down my chest and exploring my pecs. She kept moving lower with it, too, and I had to grab her wrist to stop her before she reached my cock. She pouted, trying to free herself, but I held on tight. If I gave in, if I let her touch me like that, I’d be a goner, no matter how fucking noble my intentions might be.

“Hunter,” she whined. “I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you inside me.”

Methodically, I worked myself free from her grasp, one determined limb at a time. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

She shook her head, eyes serious as a heart attack. “Mama would kill me. She wouldn’t let me date. Said my reputation was too important for pageants, and pageants were everything. And Lance kept me busy with all my training so there wasn’t time for it, anyway. I didn’t even go to prom.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin,” I ground out. The thought that she might never have been touched intimately by another man did crazy things to the fucking protective streak that had reared its ugly head recently, but at the same time, I wasn’t in the business of fucking virgins. I liked a woman who knew what she wanted in bed and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. Tallie was asking for it, but that didn’t mean she knew what she needed.

She squirmed and got one of her hands free from my grip, immediately reaching for the waistband of my trunks. “Not a virgin,” she said. “Not since Cancun.”

Well, that was just perfect. So she’d gotten drunk and naked in a hot tub with some asswipe who hadn’t understood the basic fact that a drunk woman couldn’t consent, no matter how horny she might be.

I felt her fingers beneath my shorts, reaching for my straining cock. He definitely wanted to take her up on whatever she was offering. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, so I decided to throw my weight into my efforts. I dragged her hand up from between us, stretched it overhead to join her other hand, and flattened myself over her, letting my bulk push her down into the mattress.

Bad call. Seriously bad fucking call. She snaked her legs up and around me, locking her ankles together behind my waist. My cock was nestled right at her sex, with only our beach wear stopping me from being inside her. The hard peaks of her nipples strained against my chest, driving me wild as she squirmed beneath me. And those eyes. Good God, those eyes. They were like liquid gold, glazed with lust.

“Please,” she whispered, grinding her hips up into me, and it nearly did me in.

“Not like this.” I tried to lift some of my weight off her so I wouldn’t crush her, but her legs were scissoring so tight around me it was almost impossible. I ignored the deflated look on her face. “I will fuck you,” I said, “but it’s going to be sometime when you’re sober. When you know it’s me inside you. When you’re wild with need, and I know it’s because of me and the things I’m doing and not because of how much you’ve had to drink.” At least I would if she still wanted me to. Right now, I wasn’t sure if it was just the booze talking or if she really, truly wanted it. Wanted me.

“I don’t want to wait.”

Neither did I, but telling her so wouldn’t help anything. I kissed her again, the taste of her lips even more intoxicating than all the beers I’d had since we’d arrived in Hawaii. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but her pout was too fucking sexy for me to ignore.

When I broke away from her, she bit down on her lower lip.

“You’re too damn hot for my own good,” I grumbled, finally extricating myself from her grasp.

“Then why won’t you fuck me?” she demanded, rolling to her side as though trying to follow me as I stood. She propped her head up on one hand, and the top of her bikini shifted, almost exposing her breasts to my hungry eyes.

I forced myself to look away and adjusted my painfully hard cock. If I didn’t get out of there soon, I was likely to forget about everything I’d been telling myself.

“Sleep it off,” I said. “We can talk about it later.” Not that I expected her to remember any of this after her drunk wore off. If I told her, she’d probably be mortified. No, better to just pretend none of this had ever happened, because, unless I got her drunk like this again, she probably wouldn’t remember a bit of it later.