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“Yess,” he hisses, his hands finding the curve of my back, pressing me forward to deepen the connection. “That feels so fucking good.”
The tension coils tighter with every movement, and when he grabs my hips and thrusts up into me, I lose myself entirely.
“Did you miss this dick?” he growls, his voice raw.
“Yes,” I cry out as the waves of my orgasm crash over me. “Yes!”
As his own release follows, I collapse onto his chest, both of us slick with sweat and grinning like fools.
“I love you, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hair.
“I love you more,” I reply, my heart full and my body sated. “Now that was worth the wait, wasn’t it, Mr. Middleton?”
“I’m not sure,” he teases.
“Wait, what?”
“I think I need more convincing.” He playfully slaps one of my ass cheeks.
I glance at the monitor. Deuce is still sound asleep. And honestly, even if he wasn’t, I don’t think I could deny this man.
Climbing back on top of him, this time face to face, I meet his smoldering grey eyes with a playful smile. “Let me try again. I can be very convincing.”
Hunter’s rare, infectious smile spreads across his face. It's a look he rarely gives anyone, and I feel special that he often shares it with me.
“Good answer.”
Chapter 32
New Blood In The Club
HUNTER
“Have a seat," I offer.
It’s been several months since the attempt on my life and the birth of my son, and all has been quiet with Fabre and his obvious attempt to make a power move in Los Angeles. While this moment of tranquility has my team a little on edge, I’m not fazed. This thing with Fabre is not a game of checkers but of chess. He comes off as this brash, overweight, uncouth slob, but really, the fucker is incredibly smart and deliberately patient. All this means is that I have more time to plan my offense instead of always playing defense against him. In the meantime, though, I have other little fires to put out in my life, starting with my sister.
“When your voice gets deep like that, I know I’m in a world of trouble,” Lena says with a giggle. I love that little laugh of hers and how our relationship has grown from a strained to a genuine sibling connection. It feels good to be the big brother—the role I was robbed of for much of Lena’s life.
“You’re not in any trouble.”
“Problem with the food then?”
“From what I hear, the food is good as always.”
“I mean, it’s pretty hard to mess up a buffalo chicken wing.” She rolls her eyes in aggravation.
“I know you want to try serving something a little more sophisticated, Lena, but we cater to a certain crowd here. Plus, the real money is at the bar, and that’s where I want our focus.”
“I get it.” She shrugs her shoulders. “But not all of your patrons want hot wings and truffle fries. Hell, you don’t even eat the food we serve.”
“That’s because I’ve got to watch my figure,” I jest. “I can’t let some young boy swoop in and take my wife away.”
“As if that would ever happen,” Lena snorts, and I smile at how easily my plan is falling into place. I lean back in my chair and act as if I’m contemplating her thoughts on the Blue Whiskey’s menu.
“Now that you mention it, it does seem kind of silly that we don’t serve some alternative dishes, maybe for a less salty palate.”
Her face illuminates with hope. “Right, that’s exactly what I mean. I’ve been playing around with a few dishes at home that I think would be a perfect fit. A tomato-based shrimp dish, a garlicky pasta dish, and a more sophisticated kind of beef slider made with short ribs.”