Page 48 of Hunted, Season Three

Kipp

“Kipp Nolan,” I murmur out loud to the group as much as myself during our ascent up to our apartment.“That sounds weird.”Bunny’s face cranes backwards over her shoulder to meet my gaze.“Doesn’t that sound weird?”

She simply giggles and squeezes my hand instead of answering.

“Is that how I’m supposed to introduce myself?”The click of our door opening occurs in my very brief pausing.“Is that how you’re gonna introduce yourself?”Our fiancé – that also feels weird – pushes open the blockade prompting me to point out, “You’re not NolanNolan‘cause your first name is Miles-”

“Kinda forget you don’t just have one name like Cher,” teases my other fiancée while being guided by the hand into our home.

“Cher?”Sneers our grumpy ring giver.“You chose to compare my ass to Cher instead of Sting or Bono or Prince?”

“He changed his name to a symbol.”

“Mine would be a wrench.”

“Screwdriver,” corrects the woman we love at the same time I shut the door with us inside.

“Because I know how to screw?”

“Because you’re probably more useful to me as a drink.”

His heated growl becomes an easy opportunity to step back into the conversation.“You always introduce yourself as Nolan,” I continue, encouraging them to stop moving and redirect all their attention to me, “but you bein’ like ‘I’m Nolan’ and me bein’ like ‘I’m Kipp Nolan’ is fuckin’ weird.”

“This conversation is weird,” mumbles Nolan under his breath.

“It’s adorable,” argues Bunny.

“It’s like…are we brothers?”my head bounces around in contemplation.“Cousins?”

“Just gonna skip past the obvious other option given that he’s so many more tax seasons ahead of you?”

Abandoning his hold on her hand occurs to deliver a scolding swat to her ass.

“And who marries who on paper?”Questions continue to effortlessly rev at the starting line of my mind.“Are we doing any of that?Don’t you get money back or pay less money or something for technically being married on paper?”

“That’s not…quite…it,” our fiancée slightly cringes.

“Would being married on paperbebeneficial for us?Andhowbeneficial?We talkin’ like how a lift kitcanadd value to a truck depending on its make, model, and condition or more like how a roll cagedefinitelyincreases value for those wanting a performance centered vehicle?”There isn’t time for either of their mouths to even consider moving.“And whose name goes on our son’s birth certificate?Can you put two names on there?Is that legal?Is thatpossible?Is that-”

“Kid,” Nolan mirthfully grunts in an abrupt nature, “less talkin’.” One finger forcefully hooks itself through my belt loop to yank me towards him.“More fuckin’.”

Between the delicious grab and even more delicious tone, I’m incapable of not quietly surrendering, “Yes, Sir.”

“Such a good, little, filthy fuck,” is purred prior to his mouth capturing mine.

Spreading my lips.

Sliding his tongue inside, allowing it to reiterate the bluntly spoken point.

Yeah.

He’s definitely right.

More accelerating.

Less breaking.

Having his wet muscle sloppily swirl around and around and around, poking holes in my thoughts and words and actions and body until I’m left on all flats, leaves me no choice but to reach out for stability, yet rather than grab a fist full of him, I grab a handful of Bunny’s dress.

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