Page 31 of Fumble

Chapter Nine

FAITH

Hunter hasn’t letme out of his sight all weekend. The doctor was happy to discharge me on Saturday morning, and Hunter has been playing nursemaid ever since. I’m supposed to take it easy for a few days, but I need to be ready to work tomorrow morning because I have no idea how I could explain this away to the rest of the staff. I was supposed to be in Tennessee. Malcolm would know something was off if he heard I was here.

When Hunter changed my flight, I felt certain this was going to be it. I’d lose my V-Card and win the wager, but the past two days have been surprising. Afraid to touch me, Hunter and I have done nothing physical beyond him letting me drift in and out of sleep in his arms. I didn’t realize how intimate sleeping next to someone can be—the smell of Hunter soothing me, body and mind.

We’ve talked for hours at a time, getting to know each other. I’ve only ever known Hunter through my father’s eyes as his protégé football star. He has none of that pretense or bravado inside the walls of this hotel suite. In here, he’s just a guy—smart, funny, and sweet. Coupled with insane good looks and a body you want to lick all over, he’s a formidable man.

With my eyes closed, I enjoy the lazy way his fingers trail up and down my arm in measured, even strokes.

“Hey, sleepyhead. It’s close to dinner. What do you want to eat?”

“Mmm.” I reach out, running my hand along the length of his corded forearms—an innocent caress. Eyes still closed, my senses are heightened as the smell of his cologne hangs in the air between us, teasing me. His skin is warm and taut beneath my fingertips, and he catches me off-guard with a gentle kiss—chaste—needy but restrained, soft and sweet with all the hallmarks of a panty-melter. Nibbling at my bottom lip, he seeks entrance before flicking his tongue over mine, sending delicious licks of fire throughout every nerve ending in my body. I pull him closer, deepening our kiss, my fingers moving over smooth muscle before tangling in his messy hair.

A small groan escapes him, and it’s so goddamn sexy. This is allowed under the terms of our wager. Kissing is a baseline. Making his step over it is the challenge, but as he leans in, bracing his arms on either side of me, I can feel his resolve lessening. Our tongues twist and tangle, dancing an elicit tango as his body covers the length of me, his cock straining against my thigh through the covers.

“I want you.” My voice is unrecognizable, breathy and consumed by lust. His pulse is racing as he forces himself to stop grinding into me.

“Faith, you can’t keep saying that. You’re rigging the game already.”

“I don’t care! I want you.” I tilt my hips up, relishing the effect I have on him. I feel powerful in this exchange. Watching him bite down on his lip as he struggles for control is almost more than I can take. He bit so hard he drew blood. “Hunter!”

I push him with every ounce of strength I have, but he barely budges.

“Shit. Did I hurt you? I shouldn’t be grinding on you right now. You’re injured.”

“Not me. My va-jay-jay is fine. You’re bleeding. Your lip.”

“What?” Rolling off me, I’m left wanting as he swipes a finger over his lip. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

“If I hadn’t been dry humping you, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s starting to swell. You should ice it.” He looks dumbfounded as he stares at the blood on his hand. Without thinking, I slip my hand under the covers and grab the ice pack he gave me earlier for my bruised lady parts.

Works like a charm.

I’m pretty sure the guests on the floor below us can hear his belly laugh.

He looks younger, throwing his arm up over his eyes, his smile beaming brighter than I’ve ever seen it. Leaning over, I put the now less-than-freezing pack on his lip.

“It’s warm!” He throws it back at me with a playful ease, his barriers down.

“What can I say… my pussy is hawt! And apparently, this is as close as you’re getting anytime soon.” This time I mash it all over his face, descending into a fit of the giggles.

“Touché, Miss Fairchild.”

“Don’t you mean douch-é?” I’m rewarded with a genuine smile as he rolls back on top of me. I can’t stop laughing as his hands roam my body—he’s tickling me! My squeals only fuel his playful deviance.

When he finally relents, I catch him staring at me with something that resembles affection.

“God, you’re gorgeous when you laugh.” He stills, running his fingers down my cheek. It’s so disarming. The intensity of his gaze is unnerving, and yet I can’t take my eyes off him. I instinctively chew on my lip, desperate to have just one more taste. His lips brush mine in a sensuous caress, his mouth speaking a language that my body is beginning to understand.

I lose myself in the moment, everything around me fading into the background of this one, earth-shattering kiss.

Hunter pulls back with a lazy grin before his eyes become wide as saucers, his hand shooting up to his lip.

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