The Play (Briar U, #3)(96)

“Mmm-hmmm.” I absently hit the automatic button, but I press it the wrong way and end up opening the window fully rather than doing the opposite. “Oh shoot. Sorry, Mom.” I drop my phone on the seat beside me and click the button again.

“Who are you texting with?” she asks curiously.

“Just a friend.”

Dad pounces instantly. “This Hunter boy you mentioned earlier?”

I wrinkle my forehead. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment. When he does, suspicion colors his tone. “Nico doesn’t think much of him.”

Interesting. Looks like Nico had more to say when the men went out for their second round of cigars.

“I see.” I nod politely. “Because Nico’s opinion is the mantle by which we measure all wisdom and purity.”

“Demi,” Mom chides from the passenger side.

“What? It’s true? His moral compass isn’t exactly in working order.” I meet Dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “When you were outside talking about my friend, did Nico also tell you how he beat Hunter up?”

Mom gasps. “He didn’t! Did he?”

“Oh yeah. Hunter was the one who gave me the heads up about the cheating. Nico didn’t like that, so he tracked Hunter down and roughed him up with four of his friends. Five against one, Dad. That’s how mature adults deal with their problems, right?”

Dad’s cheeks hollow as if he’s grinding his teeth. “Well. That aside, I wonder if perhaps you should keep your distance from this Hunter.”

“Why? This is coming out of nowhere. You don’t even know him, and I don’t think you should be taking Nico’s word for anything, please. He’s a liar.”

“He lied to you, yes. But that doesn’t make him a liar.”

“Daddy. If I murdered you, I’d be a murderer. He lied to me, therefore he’s a liar.”

“Semantics.”

I heave a sigh. “Look, I like Hunter, all right? He’s great.”

“Are you dating him?” my father demands.

“Not really.”

Mom twists around in her seat, her meddlesome instincts kicking in. “‘Not really?’ Dios mío! You are dating 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 before I can 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 thing off.” 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.