“Um…”
His grin faded. “What is it?”
“Us…” I swallowed. “I mean, what are we?”
I felt completely out of my element. I wasn’t the girl who pushed for a relationship. Even with Julian, he had been the one who pushed. But with Hunter, everything felt different. Good. Real. He was the man I had always dreamed of settling down with, and being with him now only proved I had been right. Our chemistry was off the charts. We communicated. I cared about him so much. It felt like we had this deep connection I couldn’t explain.
He looked at our fingers laced together. Then he gave me a small grin. “You’re important to me, Catherine Davis. I don’t want anyone but you.”
“I only want you too,” I said.
He shifted closer. “So we date.”
“Quietly,” I said as he leaned in and peppered small kisses across my lips. “And we stop wasting the night talking about everything we can’t fix tonight.”
He groaned. “You’re trouble.”
I climbed into his lap, and his hands went to my hips automatically.
“Hmm, so you’re my girlfriend,” he said, smacking my butt.
“Yes, boyfriend.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.
The second our mouths touched, the heat that always ran like an ember between us sparked. His hand slid into my hair, mine gripped his shoulders, and the kiss went hot fast. Less like a choice and more like gravity.
“Catherine,” he said, voice rough.
“I missed you,” I said as my tongue licked his.
His eyes closed for half a second. “I missed you too much.”
“Show me,” I said.
He stood with me in his arms.
I gasped. “Hunter.”
“I’ve got you.”
“You’re always carrying me,” I laughed.
“Because you test my control.”
“That sounds like a you problem,” I chuckled.
He kissed me once, hard. “Bed.”
He laid me down carefully, then came over me, bracing his hands on either side of my head. For a second, he just looked at me.
“What?” I whispered.
His thumb brushed my cheek. “I missed your face.”
My throat tightened. Then he kissed me like the words had embarrassed him. I pulled at his shirt, and he let me drag it over his head. His skin was warm under my hands. Familiar now and still not familiar enough. I touched his chest, his shoulders, the tattooed lines of him, and felt the way his body reacted to me. He took off my tank top and cutoff jean shorts, leaving me in a bra and underwear. His fingers ran over my bare skin like every inch mattered. He pushed my bra aside, and his lips latched on to my nipple. He sucked and licked, and I felt shooting need between my thighs. Then he moved to the other breast. It had only been a week, but I was hungry and needy for him. He unclasped my bra and removed it, then kneaded both of my breasts in his hands.
“So beautiful,” he rasped. He moved down my body, spreading kisses over my stomach and down my thighs.
“Hunter,” I moaned.