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I sink my teeth into my lower lip, caging those words inside.
“You fucking want me,” he snarls. “I bet you want me more than any other guy.”
I close my eyes and grip him tight. Those talented fingers don’t stop moving. The heat of his stare doesn’t fade.
I’m falling, yet soaring. I’m hurting, yet drowning in the most exquisite pleasure. There’s no life. No past. No future.
There’s only now. Only ecstasy. Only sexual possibility.
We should take this upstairs. We could. If only my secrets weren’t scattered over the floor in a mass of devastation.
The door swings open in a swoosh of noise and displaced air. I snap my eyes open and freeze when I see a woman standing there, gaping.
Mystery man shoves his shoulder into the wall, plastering his body to mine. He covers me, hiding what he’s doing without stopping the pulse of his fingers for even a second.
“Get out of here,” he snarls at her.
Protective. Oh, so protective.
I could swoon. Instead, my body trembles. I know nothing about this man, and yet he slays me. “Tell me your name.”
His fingers plunge deeper as he holds my gaze. “Why? You’ve never shown any interest before.”
I pant, my breathing fractured. “Well, I’m interested now.” I need something to call him. Something other than ‘my mystery man.’ I have to dissociate him from being mine at all.
He releases a barely audible chuckle. “If I tell you my name, will you promise to scream it when I make you come?”
I shake my head. “No.” No way in hell. I’m out in the open, probably in view of Brent and those drunks who would be getting the show of their life. Not to mention the current state of my soaked panties is already a big enough compliment to satisfy even the largest ego. “I won’t.”
His fingers stop moving in a harsh threat. “Then whisper it for only me to hear.”
Oh, God. My restraint snaps, and I moan in agreement. There’s no will to deny him. Not when it’s a mere whisper of surrender.
“Promise.” His thumb flicks over my clit, igniting a pulse of wildfire.
“I will,” I blurt. “I promise.”
“Good.” He leans closer, the rough stubble of his cheek brushing mine. His lips gently slide over my ear. “You can call me Hunter.”
I whimper.
Hunter.
What a fucking seductive name. So much better than Jim or Jeff or Bill.
He twists those fingers, deeper, faster, the pad of his thumb pressing harder on my clit.
“Hunter,” I whisper in warning. I’m close, nudging the precipice.
He inches back and gazes down at me, his eyes intent, his lips tight. God, I want to fuck him. I want to pull him close and kiss and kiss and kiss until I feel my soul return.
“What, princess?”
“Hunter.” I can’t say anything else. I can’t think anything else. “Oh, God, Hunter.”
I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall as my pussy clamps tight. My core contracts over and over, the height of bliss hitting me as he leans his body into mine to keep me upright.
He doesn’t stop fingering me. Those digits pulse. His thumb continues to work my clit.
I cling to him, my mouth finding his neck, my teeth digging into his flesh. I taste. I feel. I become invigorated. All because of this man.
The realization lessens the bliss, guiding me down from my peak in a gentle descent. I whimper as he holds me in one arm, his other hand still filling me.
“You done?” he murmurs.
My voice is lost to pleasure, my throat too tight to speak. I nod and meet his taut expression, noticing the wild, restrained lust in those harsh eyes.
“Good.” He pulls away and steps back. His jaw ticks as he adjusts his cock, the thick outline of his erection bulging at his zipper. Then, without a goodbye, he turns and walks away muttering, “Tell your boyfriend I said hi.”