Page 74 of Not in My Book

“The minute you walked in with your sweet southern smile. I was a goner when that smile was aimed at me.”

“Do you really mean that?”

I was asking as Rosie now. Surely he was caught up in the scene, and I was just reading into it. But Maxine wasn’t from the south. Both of them had been born and raised in California; it was a strategic plot point for us.

“The whole time,” he promised, leaning down for a kiss.

I gasped when he finally,finallyentered me. I stretched slowly around him, feeling just a hint of pain at his size. Desperate whimpers escaped me the more he moved.

“Hunter,” I gasped, my head falling back onto his pillow.

He paused for a moment, letting me adjust. “Can you take more?”

I nodded, desperate for him to keep moving. Slowly, he pushed further inside me and when his hips settled against mine, I cried out in relief, biting my lip. I reached for his shoulders, my hands running up the landscape of his body until they settled around his neck.

He smiled down at me. His hand caressed my cheek, holding my head so gently.

I turned my face into his palm, kissing it.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” I smiled. Slowly, he began to move his hips. I gasped, clutching at his shoulders. He started slowly, but eventually we built to something so much greater. “More,” I begged.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he said, still holding my cheek with one hand, his other falling down to rub my clit in circles.

“Please.”

Both Aiden and I were breathing heavily now. Our fingers were moving rapidly across our keyboards. Heat was rising to my cheeks. It was a mix of sexy and pure mortification writing this with Aiden.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said, groaning. “Anything you want. You want me to smile? I’ll never stop. You want me to go harder, faster? I’ll exhaust myself. Just for you.” His hips moved faster, and I writhed underneath him, gripping him hard. My hips bucked up to meet his, seeking more and more from him.

I pulled him closer to me. I needed all of him, every part of him touching me. His face fell into my neck, kissing behind my ear.

I felt his breath hot on my skin. “Are you close?”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded, my eyes squeezing shut.

“Look at you, writhing on my cock. Fuck,” he bit out, moving faster. “You’re so fucking tight.”

My head fell back onto the pillow, my hips twisting. “Oh God, Hunter. I can’t take it.”

“You’re taking it right now. Every inch of my cock, baby,” he repeated. I squeezed down on him, and he drove his hips forward, groaning. “You’re so fucking sexy, Max. I’m losing my mind over here trying not to come.”

“Fuck,” I whimpered. “Hunter, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me.” He rose up and watched me as we moved together. “Come on baby, come. Come for me.”

Pleasure wracked my body, my legs shaking. Hunter’s movements quickened, the strength of them nearly pushing me further up the bed. With a jerk of his hips, he groaned as he spilled into me.

He collapsed on top of me, pushing my sweaty hair away from my forehead. I could tell it was on the tip of his tongue. Everything we meant to each other, ready to burst from him.

He wasn’t ready to say it, though, and I wasn’t ready to hear it. But I knew I wanted this—and so much more—with him.

I wanted Sunday brunches.

Lazy Saturdays.

Writing together in a living room.

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