Now, Please(49)

“Yes, please,” I answered dutifully.

“And she has manners. What a nice change in this house!” Mrs. Foster took a small plate and loaded me up with salad. Without asking, she took Hunter’s plate and did the same.

After agreeing to the other elements to the dish, Mrs. Foster made up a larger plate with way too much food, then left the room to give us some privacy.

“She must work late hours,” I said as I cut into the roast.

“Not generally. She usually leaves my plate in a warming tray.”

“And she just cooks. That’s it?”

“She cleans, as well. She looks after me, for the most part, so she sees to my laundry or dry cleaning, makes breakfast and dinner, and whatever I need. Blaire has her own staff.”

“Must be nice,” I muttered, closing my eyes as the delicious meat melted in my mouth. “Very nice. She’s a great cook.”

“Yes. I’m well fed.” A moment later, he said, “Bruce asked about you on Friday. I told him you were seeking other employment. He’ll be calling you with a job offer, I have no doubt.”

I opened my mouth to tell him that Bruce already had. He was expecting an answer any day. And while I hadn’t officially decided, if I was really, truly honest with myself, I still longed to say yes. The idea of doing something I loved, of following my dream, called to me. Why wouldn’t it—that was the path to happiness, after all. But as happy as I would be doing that, I’d be happier with Hunter. I’d do something I hated to be close to him, and my situation wasn’t even remotely that bad.

So instead, I played dumb. “A job offer? He’s selling his company!”

Hunter smirked. “He’s gotten a taste for business now—he’s already thinking of the prospects for his computer games.”

“Oh. The hobby. I doubt his wife will be pleased.”

“Are wives ever pleased?” Hunter’s eyes glittered in the soft light. A smile tickled his lips, boosting his handsomeness.

After a moment, his mirth turned into a furrowed brow. I was still staring.

“You’re handsome,” I said in answer to his unspoken question. “I can’t help but look.”

“Ditto,” he responded with that hot smirk of his. His gaze started a slow burn as he lifted a potato to his full lips. In his eyes held a promise, and I was eager to feel him deliver it.





Chapter Fourteen





Hunter closed the door to his bedroom behind him. We’d sat at dinner for a while, eating and chatting, before Mrs. Foster bustled in with cheesecake. I’d tried not to eat too much, knowing that I’d be getting intimate with Hunter soon after, but everything tasted so good! I couldn’t help myself.

I was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Hunter. Being that he was a man of few words at work, a trait that had carried over into lunches and plane rides, I hadn’t expected him to open up so much. As we spoke, though, his sense of humor showed itself in the form of sarcasm, and his ideas and observations enhanced whatever silly thing I threw at him. It was quite possibly the most relaxed and easy I had ever seen him.

“Do you want to watch TV?” he asked as he hovered by the light switch.

I crawled up onto the bed, needing to lie down after that feast. “Which side do you want me?”

“The side furthest from the door. If a burglar comes in, I’ll die first.”

I snorted. “Well thought out.”

“TV?” he asked again.

“Or…just bed and fondling?”

The light clicked off, plunging the room into darkness. I saw Hunter’s body move across the room, black against very dark gray. A dim light switched on near the bathroom, showering the bed in a soft glow.

“Put candles on your list of to-buys,” I said.

“Noted.” He stripped out of his clothes. I marveled at his body, tracing his muscles with my gaze as he moved and shifted. He slid into the covers and scooted up to my body. He tugged my shirt over my head before reaching low to strip me of the pajama bottoms. His hand traveled up my skin, leaving a warm trail in its wake, before cupping a breast. His lips connected with mine, light and sweet. He traced my bottom lip with his tongue while pinching a nipple. Shooting pleasure coursed down to my core.

“Do we need to use protection?” he asked as his hand drifted between my legs. His fingers ran between my swollen sex. I spread my legs, giving him more access.

“We’ve been fine without it so far.”

“Will you miss a pill? I should’ve asked if we needed to stop by your house first.”

“Oh. No, I haven’t gotten out of the habit of carrying them in my purse. In college, you never knew where you might end up.” I felt his fingers stall for a brief moment. “No, not like that! I mean, sometimes like that—I did have boyfriends. But sometimes I would spend the night at Kimberly’s if we were at a party closer to her house. Or a different friend. Very rarely boys. I wasn’t that exciting.”