Contracted: A Wife For The Bedroom

‘Where is he now?’

‘With Janey—my one-time best friend. Apparently, as Mark likes to tell it, I was a bit depressed after my father died and froze him out—they still insist that nothing happened for months after we broke up.’

‘You’re better off without them.’ Hunter shrugged, not remotely moved by her story. ‘But one swallow doesn’t make a summer.’

‘Sorry?’

‘So, your ex was a bastard—hardly enough to judge an entire species by.’

‘It was enough at the time,’ Lily countered, but two spots of colour were burning on her cheeks, his scrutiny unnerving as he refused to accept her sorry tale.

‘Come on, Lily, you’re a sensible girl—relationships end for far less—you probably were a right old misery to be with at the time. Now, I’m not saying he was right to do what he did, but I’m sure you can see where the relationship started to go wrong.’

‘Are you always this sensitive?’

‘Not always.’ Hunter responded to her sarcasm with a brand of his own. ‘But given we’ve only just met, I didn’t want to be too harsh.’ He stopped teasing then, his eyes assessing her for the longest moment, his voice serious when finally it came. ‘What else happened to you, Lily?’

‘Nothing!’ She answered him too quickly, her voice a touch too shrill, and if she’d been strapped to a lie detector it would have blown a fuse at her pathetic attempt at denial. ‘Isn’t that enough to be going on with?’

He stared at her through narrowed eyes and Lily dragged hers away, his scrutiny unnerving, as if somehow he could see deep inside her. But just when she thought he’d push harder, just when she was on the verge of maybe even telling, thankfully, regretfully even, he pulled away. ‘For now,’ Hunter said, pulling his car keys out of his pocket, and turned to go. ‘Thanks again for the coffee.’ He smothered a yawn as he walked out of the door and no doubt out of her life. Lily was gripped with something akin to sadness, biting down on her lip she fought the impulse to call him back, not realising that Hunter was battling with demons of his own.

He didn’t want to go home.

Didn’t want to ring Emma and tell her about his evening—didn’t want a night rattling around his apartment on his own. But more than that, he didn’t actually want to leave Lily.

And it wasn’t just because she was gorgeous—beautiful women were ten a penny in his word. If it was just sex or company he wanted, he had plenty of willing participants—it was this gorgeous woman that enthralled him.

Drenched, miserable and exhausted, she’d still given him her time—and unlike so many others she expected nothing from him.

Nothing!

Jangling his key on his index finger, heading for his car and a music-fuelled ride home, something stilled him.

Something he couldn’t define made him pause and turn around.

‘I really am fine to drive…’ Very slowly, very deliberately he turned to face her. ‘I’d just rather not.’

Her eyes jerked to his and the lust blazing in them was so blatant there was no question of mixed messages, his meaning utterly, utterly clear. As Lily stared back, transfixed, she begged for reason to descend, for her usually ordered mind to focus, to give an appropriate response to his terribly inappropriate proposal.

She wanted to say yes!

One hand was leaning on the wall behind her as his other smoothed another imaginary lock from her forehead, tracing again the path he had blazed so easily before, infinitely kissable lips literally a breath away, the taste of him an imagined delicacy on her tongue, and lust battled with reason. Surely she’d regret this. To contemplate sleeping with this man was something every woman in his path surely did, but to actually fathom it, to know that for tonight at least all this could be hers, was a conundrum Lily had never in her life envisaged. He was as out of place in her bedroom as he had been at the community centre, a divine prototype that didn’t belong in the parameters of her existence. Yet here he was, adoring her with his eyes, lifting the silver lid and tempting her with laden, flambéd plates of passion—the ultimate, most elicit dessert menu thrust in front of her to break her diet. She toyed mentally with the delicacies on offer, knew that a flavor of nectar would surely sour her tastebuds for ever, that to taste him now could only render any future offerings lacking.

But she wanted this.

Wanted to taste him, to feel him, wanted that moment on her lips to spend a lifetime in her memory…

The brush of his mouth on hers almost made her faint, her flesh swelling with ripeness as he graced her with his presence, a tiny shocked gasp as instead of a kiss, first he licked her, his tongue tracing the Cupid’s bow of her lips, then bit her lower lip, and if it had been anyone else she’d have recoiled, but not with Hunter, it was the single most erotic thing she had ever experienced in her life—and it wasn’t transitory, tasting her, circling her lips, till he had to stop, till he had to end this delicious torment with a kiss…only he didn’t. Instead, he gently bit into her lower lip, sucking her till she was swollen, till her body was writhing with want, yet his hand was still leaning lazily on the wall behind her as he urged her body closer with sheer magnetism.