Page 131 of The Play

“Are you dating him?” my father demands.

“Not really.”

Mom twists around in her seat, her meddlesome instincts kicking in. “‘Not really?’Dios mío!Youaredating him! When did this happen?!”

“We’re not dating.”Just having sex. Repeatedly.“But if we were, I’d expect both of you to give him a fair shot. Nico isn’t my boyfriend anymore, you guys. Eventually someone else is going to fill that role, and I need you to accept that and be open-minded about it.” I shrug. “As for Hunter, he’s a good guy and I like him a lot.” I meet my father’s eyes again. “And if you met him, you’d like him too.”

31

DEMI

NEW YEAR’S EVE

HUNTER HAS ME ON THE BED BEFOREICAN EVEN SAY HELLO.His greedy mouth latches onto mine, the kiss stealing the breath from my lungs.

“I missed this,” I whimper, and I feel his answering groan vibrate through my body. I wrap my legs around his trim hips and shamelessly grind against his very prominent bulge.

“Missed you too,” he mumbles. His lips are exploring my throat now. He sucks on the side of my neck, then rolls us over so that I’m straddling him.

His hands slide underneath my shirt to cup my boobs. I’m not wearing a bra, so his calloused palms are a delicious scrape over my sensitive flesh. My nipples instantly pucker and strain against his touch.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Take this infuriating thingoff.” He peels the shirt off me and whips it across the room.

A laugh flies out. “Hey, now, my shirt didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It was covering these perfect tits. I’m furious at it.” The hot whisper fans over my nipple and I moan when he draws it into his mouth and sucks deeply.God. I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen him. How have I gone without this for two weeks?

I roll my hips, grinding his covered erection. He cups and squeezes my breasts, then curls one hand behind my neck and tugs me down for a kiss. His tongue touches mine and it’s like a bolt of lightning directly to my core.

In an unplanned synchronized frenzy, we fumble at each other’s waistbands. He shoves my PJ pants down. I try to do the same with his jeans, but the denim snags on his thighs. He grins and lifts his ass to help me out. He’s still wearing a shirt, but naked below the waist, and his cock springs up, long and thick. My mouth actually waters.

“Fuck,” Hunter chokes out as his gaze roams my nude body.

Our gazes lock. A second ticks by, two, three.

And then we’re mauling each other again. I find a condom and put it on him. He pulls me back onto his lap. I impale myself on him, and off to the races we go.

I don’t know how long I ride him. It could be seconds, minutes or hours. All I know is that the knot of pleasure between my legs is almost painful, unbearable. My breathing is shaky. So are my hands. My fingertips tingle as I stroke them over his sculpted pecs. Lord, I know I’m close.

Pippa was right when she posited that maybe I’ve been having sex all wrong. Or maybe sex simply becomes predictable when you’ve been having it with the same person for years. With Hunter, it’s completely unpredictable, and right now I’m relishing the newness of it, all these firsts with him.

First kiss.

First fuck.

First orgasm while I’m riding his dick.

I come first, collapsing onto him, and he thrusts his hips, digging his fingers into my ass. He bites my shoulder as he comes, and I laugh breathlessly against his damp chest. We lie there for a moment, his arms wrapped snugly around me, his dick still buried inside me.

“Oh my gosh,” I say dreamily. “That was so good.”

“So good,” he mumbles.

We stay in that position for nearly a minute before he reluctantly withdraws. I sit up and help him remove the condom. “Here, let me get rid of this. I need to pee anyway.”

I return to the bed a minute later and we snuggle up, still naked. Hunter reaches for the fleece throw at the foot of the bed, pinches the corner and drags it up to cover us.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” he remarks.

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