Illicit acollection, p.296
Illicit: A Contemporary Romance Collection, page 296
“We’ve got this. Leave it, we’ll take care of it,” Lydia says, gesturing toward his dishes.
“Thanks. See you guys later. Hunter should be back by this afternoon, so pass the message on to him too.”
That answers that. Hunter would be back, which meant he wasn’t here. I haven’t met him yet, so hopefully he is as nice and Avery and Lydia.
“So Finleigh … cool name, by the way. What do you like to do for fun?” Avery asks as he grabs another muffin to put on his plate.
“Um. I like reading and movies. I like crocheting too.”
“I said fun,” he jokes. “Like tell us about your American football, clubs, and parties.”
“Wish I could,” I admit. “I’ve been to all three but not enough to give an opinion about them. They just weren’t my scene.”
I leave out the outcast part. Those activities usually involved groups of people. I had Valerie. She got invited to more things than I did, but she often turned them down for my sake.
“Well, we’ll just have to show you what we do for fun out here.” Lydia winks. “You’re in good hands.”
It feels refreshing to have people accept you as you are and not look down at you for being different. I think Lydia and I will be good friends. She seems genuine.
“Lydia is right. I’ve never been to the States, so I was just curious. We’ve all worked with Blaine before now, but this is our first time staying at his mansion. He’s a pretty cool mate, and we’ll get plenty of free time to ourselves. We’ll make sure you enjoy yourself while you’re here.”
“Let’s get this stuff put away and cleaned up. I want to show Finleigh around town.”
“Yeah. I have some errands of my own I need to run.”
3
Finleigh
We arrive back at the house around eight, but I’m exhausted. I guess this is what jet lag feels like. May be smart for me to head to bed early tonight to adjust to London time.
Lydia led me through to the meeting room opposite the kitchen. As promised, Blaine has written tomorrow’s schedule on one of the whiteboards. Our shoot location will be in Knottingham, and we’re leaving at eight a.m.
“Ah, the theme is street style,” Lydia says, more to herself.
I noted the theme written under location but have no idea what it references. “What does that mean? I’m guessing that part is for you guys.”
“Yes. It’s the theme for tomorrow’s shoot, and Blaine’s way of telling us what to plan on wearing. I love street because it’s more open for interpretation. Hip-hop, B-boy, and mix of other styles that you can pair together.”
“What if he picks a theme you don’t have clothes for?”
“As a model, I’ve had years to build up my wardrobe, but if I didn’t have it, I’d either try to buy last minute or borrow. Blaine is really good about giving advance notice if he thinks what we’re shooting may warrant some shopping.”
“Street! Yes!” Avery applauds as he enters the room. “Hey. I got the new Mission Impossible film, and I’m going to play it in the cinema room. You ladies want to join me?”
“Oh, this adrenaline junkie wouldn’t miss it. Finleigh, are you coming?”
“I think I’m going to have to pass. Between the jet lag and stuffing myself at dinner, I’m ready to hit the sheets.”
“Some of your American sayings are so odd. ‘Hit the sheets.’” Lydia laughs, shaking her head. “You’ll be missing out on Tom Cruise, but I guess you need your sleep. Blaine won’t be happy if you’re a minute late, so make sure you’re out front at least five minutes before eight.”
“I won’t be late. See you in the morning.”
I head upstairs while Avery and Lydia head downstairs. I need to find time to call my parents tomorrow. I’ll set my alarm an extra thirty minutes early and make the call before we leave.
Deciding on a relaxing soak before bed, I begin to run the water. There are so many toiletries, I can’t decide which one to try first. The Olverum bath oil smells heavenly. The box says it contains ten essential oils and eases stress. Sounds good to me. I pour a few drops under the running water.
While I let my bath fill, I step out onto the terrace for some fresh air. The garden below looks and feels so serene just as I knew it would be. Light from the room next to mine catches my attention. The shades are completely lifted, so I take small steps to look inside. This was Hunter’s room. Did his mirror mine? I freeze midstep when I see him sitting at the edge of the bed. He is not alone, but I can’t see the blonde’s face because it’s buried in his lap. She’s on her knees in front of him, bobbing her head up and down. Hunter has one hand groping her hair and the other propped on the bed. His head falls back as his face contorts in pleasure. This woman is relentless in her pursuit. I get a quick glimpse of her face as she swipes her hair from her face. She’s using both hands now to stroke him while she sucks. I know I really should look away—hell, go back to my room—but I’m intrigued. I want to be able to make a man feel like that.
Hunter gathers all her hair and holds it on top of her head, encouraging her efforts with the guidance of a single hand. Suddenly, he looks up, and I swear our eyes lock. Can he see me out here in the dark? I’m afraid to move. He stares out this way for a second longer before his eyes slides close. Holy crap, he was coming. And this was my cue to make a run for it back to my room. Lydia and Avery may be watching Mission Impossible, but I just experienced my very first live porn.
My bathwater is nearly overflowing, so I have to let some of it out. I light a few of the candles on the counter and turn the main light off before I get in. I welcome the silky, aromatic water as I slide into the tub and lean back. This sure beats the showers at the dorms. I close my eyes and begin to relax. I have to admit my girly bits were tingling from the sight of something so erotic. A smile forms on my lips just from replaying what I saw.
“Enjoy the show?” a smooth male accent asks.
My eyes pop open. Holy shit, it’s him—Hunter. Then I remember I’m naked, so I lean forward and cover myself the best I can, sloshing water over the top of the tub.
“What are you doing in here? Get out!”
“You left your door open, so I thought I’d come over and properly introduce myself.” He smirks.
“I’m in the bath!”
“Yes. I can see that. Didn’t think you’d mind since you don’t respect privacy. Tell me … do all Americans enjoy watching people perform sexual acts without their knowledge or just you? Are you some kind of voyeur?”
“I’m not a voyeur,” I hiss. “Now, can you please leave?”
He steps closer into the candlelight, and I have to swallow the lump in my throat. He’s shirtless—every etch of muscle on display. His jeans hang low on his hips, and his feet are bare. He makes Sebastian look like a boy in comparison. He runs a single hand through his chin-length hair, and I have to work not show how bothered he has me.
“You never answered my original question. Answer truthfully and I’ll leave.”
“What question?”
“Did you enjoy the show? Did you enjoy watching another woman deep throat my cock?”
“I didn’t see anything. As soon as I saw someone was in the room, I left,” I lie. I wasn’t going to admit that seeing them in the throes of passion ignited something in me that it shouldn’t have.
“So our little American is both a voyeur and a liar. Tsk, tsk. You’ll have to do better than that, seeing as though I spotted you out there before I ever laid eyes on you.”
“Don’t you have a blonde to get back to? I’m pretty sure she’s wondering where you are. And I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate that you’re standing over a tub with a naked woman in it.”
This does nothing to discourage him. Instead, he comes closer and sits on the edge of the tub. I draw my legs closer, not even sure I’m covering everything.
“The woman you’re speaking of is long gone. She left the minute after she wiped my cum from her lips. It was just sex.”
His eyes meet mine, and I have to look away. Something tells me, of the three models, he’ll be the handful. He’s toying me for his own sick pleasure. Yes, I spied on him, but this is getting ridiculous.
“Fine. I didn’t know what I’d find when I crossed to your side. I just saw a light on and wanted to see if your room looked like mine. When I saw her doing that to you, I was curious. I didn’t mean to watch. I was only there a few minutes tops anyway.”
“Her doing that to me? What are you… ten?” He laughs. “She was sucking my dick. And enjoying it, I might add. What’s to be curious about? Haven’t you ever sucked a cock before?”
“I’m not answering any more of your stupid questions. I apologize for spying on you, and it’ll never happen again. Can you please leave now?”
“I’ll let you finish your bath. Nice meeting you, Finleigh. I’m Hunter.”
“I didn’t tell you my name.”
“Didn’t have to. Blaine told us.” He is halfway out the door before he turns back around. “I don’t know how much of my cock you could actually see but don’t get any ideas. I don’t fuck virgins.”
“I’m not a virgin!” I yell as he heads out the door. Ugh, what an asshat. A good-looking, sexy as hell asshat with a dreamy accent. Ugh.
I quickly finish my bath and change into my sleep shorts and tank. I lock my terrace doors so that Hunter won’t catch me off guard again. Hopefully, he was done messing with me. I admit, I sort of deserved it for invading his privacy. That’s not like me at all. Sinking into the exponential thread count, I feel like I’m surrounded by clouds, and it doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep.
I roll over into something hard, and I’m disoriented for a second. I rub my eyes, squinting against the sunlight. I don’t remember my shades being up last night.
“Morning, sunshine,” Hunter greets from the side of my bed. He’s the something hard I rolled into.
“What the actual fuck?”
“Such foul language. Voyeur, liar, virgin, and potty mouth. I’m learning so much about you.”
“I’m not a virgin, you moron,” I hiss. I want to punch him in his beautifully accented mouth.
He runs a single hand through his hair, and that’s when I see them for the first time in the light—hypnotizing clear blue eyes. This guy has all the chips stacked in his favor. Gorgeous, muscled perfection, long hair, tattooed chest, sleeves on both arms, beautiful blue eyes, and an English accent. It makes sense now. Of course, he has to be a complete jackass to balance the scale.
“So you’re admitting to the other characteristics then? Out of everything I accused you of, you only deny being a virgin?”
“I’m not any of the things you just said. I locked my doors. How did you get in here?”
“You locked the terrace doors. You didn’t lock that one,” he says, pointing at the bedroom door. “You should be thanking me. It’s thirty minutes until eight. Blaine hates when we’re late. That’s a sure way to get on his bad side.”
“Shit,” I exclaim as I jump out of bed. “I forgot to set my alarm.”
“Are you sure you aren’t a potty mouth?”
“Look! Thanks for waking me, but I have to get ready. I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”
“Well, my single act of kindness is done. Don’t forget to put a bra on those things. Can’t have you flapping everywhere.” He winks as he heads out the door.
It was a gesture of kindness until he poked fun at my breasts. I normally wear a sports bra to keep them tamed, but I didn’t have the inclination to pull one out after my run-in with him. I went with what I had already pulled out to sleep in.
I dress in record time. Jeans, tank, and sneakers. I braid my hair into two plaits with five minutes to get downstairs. Unfortunately, it means no time for food or a phone call to my parents.
“You made it,” Hunter greets when I step outside.
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
Lydia appears, towing a medium-sized suitcase behind her.
“Morning, Finleigh. How did you sleep?”
“Like a baby,” I admit. Those sheets and comforter are so plush and nice.
Avery walks out with Blaine. He has a suitcase as well.
“Good. We’re all on time. The SUV is filled with petroleum, and we’re looking at a three-hour drive, so I hope you packed something to eat on. I’m not stopping.”
“Crap. I’m sorry, Finleigh. I forgot to mention you’d need to pack some food to bring with you. I’ll share mine with you.” Lydia apologizes.
“No need. I already took care of it,” Hunter says, surprisingly. He leans into the Range Rover and pulls out a camouflage colored lunch bag. “I didn’t have any girly shit, so this will have to do.”
I take the bag from him and look inside. I find an apple, a couple of mozzarella sticks, a couple of juice boxes, a chicken sandwich, and Oreos. I look up at him, but this time, I see something different. That was really sweet of him. I think him being a jackass is just the exterior. I’m not always the best judge of character, but I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Thank you so much for this,” I say as I close the bag. “I don’t have time to get breakfast. Thanks to you, I wasn’t late.”
“That was awfully nice of you, Hunter. I’m guessing you two already met,” Lydia surmises.
“Yeah, briefly,” he tells her as he gives me a small wink. He wasn’t going to out my spying on him. “Figures it was the least I could do since I wasn’t here when she first arrived. I knew she wouldn’t know to bring food for the trip, and I wasn’t sure if either of you would remember to tell her.”
“Careful. People may start to get the impression that you’re nice,” Lydia jokes.
“Never,” Hunter assures. “I won’t allow it.” He smirks.
“I’m riding up front with Blaine,” Avery announces.
“I don’t care. I’m not riding in the middle,” Hunter responds as he gets in the back seat behind the passenger. The third row is folded down to allow more room for the photo shoot equipment and props.
“I’m okay with being in the middle,” I speak up as I slide in next to Hunter.
“Oh, really? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
I know he just turned what I said into something sexual, so I attempt to ignore it. Lydia gets in and closes the door. I have to scoot over a tad more so that she can buckle her seat belt. My thigh brushes against his, and I can feel his heat permeate through my jeans. I try to ease my leg away—careful not to be obvious about it—but he just widens his legs so that his leg is again touching mine. I can feel the heat creep up my neck as the butterflies dance around in my stomach. Why do I have to be such a dork? I’m sure he hasn’t even noticed. It’s a meaningless touch, and here I am, silently flipping my shit. Other than Sebastian, I haven’t ever been in such proximity to an attractive guy. I need to tamper this down.
“Are you okay? You look kind of flushed.” Hunter nudges me.
“It’s a little hot.” It wasn’t a total lie. He flips the vents so they’re blowing more on me, before digging in his backpack.
“Here. Drink some of this,” he insists. Unscrewing the cap on a lemon-lime Gatorade, he passes it to me
I take a few quick gulps. “Thank you.” I pass it back to him.
“Do you swallow everything with such ease?” he whispers. My clit pulsates at the nearness of his mouth to my ear.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I respond, feeling unusually brazen.
“Not really. I’m not into virgins. They bore me. I need a woman who can handle all eleven inches of me.”
That’s it. If my face wasn’t crimson red before, I’m sure it is now. I look around the SUV. Lydia has her earphones in with her eyes closed, and Avery and Blaine are busy with their own conversation.
“Nobody can hear me,” Hunter assures me.
“Just eleven inches?” I quiz. Why am I playing this game with him? It won’t end well. Where is this daring woman in me even coming from?
“An inch away from perfection,” he jokes. “But where I lack in length, I more than make up for it in girth and skill.”
I clench my legs together tightly. Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t like I was ever going to find out. It’s just harmless banter.
“Meh. It’s not all about the size. Men think it is, but they’re wrong.”
“What is it about then? Enlighten me.”
I’m definitely far from being an expert with my one encounter, but if I was willing to answer that question, I’d tell him it’s about the feeling. There was no connection between Sebastian and me. The butterflies had disappeared, and the whole act felt forced—unnatural. If you can enjoy being with the person you’re with, it doesn’t matter what size his package is.
“I think I should stop talking now. It’s not like it matters. I would never sleep with you.”
“You’d be correct. I don’t sleep with women. I fuck, and then they go home, or I leave. Once the swelling of my dick goes away, it’s time to go. But don’t worry your pretty little head.” He leans in closer, and this time, his mouth does touch the shell of my ear. “I wouldn’t fuck you either. I would ruin you—no exaggeration, love.”
I have to pull away. Leaning down, I open the bag he gave me and begin to wrestle with the package of string cheese. I can feel him chuckling next to me, but I refuse to look at him.
A chicken sandwich, mozzarella stick, and juice box later, I finally look over at him. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is even. His green T-shirt outlines his chest and abs in fine detail. I study his tattoo sleeves, and for the first time, I notice they’re mostly Disney. This mercurial man is an enigma. Everything about him is a contrast, even down to his beautiful features complementing his sharp-angled facial bone structure. I have a strange urge to lick his cleft chin. He’s just so damn pretty. Mister English is a tempting sight to behold. His lack of filter and jackass qualities need to be a stronger repellent.
Ugh, why didn’t I think to bring something to read for the drive? I need a distraction from the shit I shouldn’t be thinking about. You’d think I’d learn my lesson after Sebastian. I close my eyes. If I can take a nap, it will give my overactive mind and hormones a break. Hunter is off limits.
