Just Home for the Holidays - Deborah Cooke Page 0,32

his thigh. “I’m trying something different. Taking a chance. I thought you’d approve of that.”

“Sure, but you’ll have expectations. It can’t work.”

She leaned close to him, her breast against his arm and her breath on his cheek. “Number thirteen is my expectation,” she said softly and he looked down into her eyes.

No expectations after December 26.

Hunter could live with that.

She stretched up to place her lips against his ear, her breath sending shivers through him and he burned with need for her. “I want you, Hunter Tate, and I want you tonight,” she whispered against every expectation, then grazed his earlobe with her teeth. Hunter closed his eyes and acknowledged that some wishes did come true. “I’m saying yes. Or am I a chance you don’t want to take?”

Hunter leaned forward and gave the address to the driver. He held Chloe’s hand tightly as they drove through the park, his heart thundering in anticipation.

Damn. If he’d known, he’d have gotten some walnuts.

The apartment was as elegant as Hunter had said, but Chloe wasn’t interested in the decor. She felt like another person, her impetuous passionate twin, and she was going for it. As soon as the door was closed behind them, she backed Hunter into the wall and kissed him. She liked that he didn’t mind her taking the initiative. He locked his hands around her waist and lifted her to her toes, letting her feast upon his mouth. She liked the little incoherent sound of satisfaction he made and the fact that he was hard and ready.

She undid his tie, tugged it loose and cast it to the floor, all without breaking their kiss. She pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, then unfastened his shirt, running her hands over his hard strength. The evidence of his regular workouts was right under her fingertips and Chloe liked it just fine. His bare skin was warm under her palms and she caressed him, teasing his nipple so that he inhaled sharply, then unfastened his belt. Her hands were in his trousers and this time, she was the one who made the incoherent sound of pleasure when she discovered how big he was. She touched him and Hunter broke their kiss suddenly, scooping her up in his arms with purpose. He kicked off his trousers and shoes, leaving them in the hall, and carried her toward the bedroom.

“Socks,” Chloe said and he laughed. He tossed her onto the big mattress so that she bounced, then took off his socks and briefs. When he turned to face her, he was completely nude and Chloe couldn’t wait for him. The windows were big but they had dark shades on them, the kind that filtered the light of the city but ensured that no one could see inside. The shadows and ambient light made Hunter look powerful and mysterious, a young god come to take his pleasure with her, and Chloe caught her breath when he removed her shoes. He set them aside, his brows rising when he realized she was wearing stockings and garters.

“Did you plan for this?”

She shook her head. “Optimism,” she confessed as he ran a fingertip up the inside of her calf. Shivers launched over Chloe’s skin and she gasped when he bent and kissed the inside of her knee. His beard was soft against her skin; his breath filled her with anticipation.

“I’ve always thought optimism should be rewarded,” he murmured, then his hands slid up her thighs. She felt his fingers spread as they slid over her skin, then his thumbs hook beneath her panties. He removed them and she felt the mattress give as he laid down between her knees, then his tongue flicked against her, his touch both gentle and decisive. “No walnuts,” he whispered, his breath giving her shivers.

Chloe didn’t care. His tongue slid across her and she gasped, clutching the skirt of her dress in her hands. Hunter closed his mouth over her and she surrendered to sensation, falling back against the pillows, her eyes closing in rapture.

It took him forever and she had no complaints. She didn’t know how many times she was close to coming, how many times he cheated her of her release and started over again with gentle touches. Each time, she felt herself rise higher. Each time, she was sure she was going to explode when she came. She was clutching his shoulders, whispering his name, riding the wave when he finally pushed her over the edge. She shouted, not