"There's only one thing I want to eat right now," he growls.
I look up at him. He's looking down at me, his eyes boring into mine in a possessive way. Everything about his stance is possessive, and I know exactly what he wants right now. The same thing I want.
Heart pounding, I part my lips and ever so slightly pout them.
For several breaths, Hunter stares down at me. I'm frozen in place even though I'm burning up inside.
He leans, and crushes his lips against mine without any gentleness. Instantly all the heat within me burns to a thousand degrees. Or a million degrees.
My body threatens to turn into a puddle, and I use the counter to hold myself up.
As our tongues twirl, Hunter cups the back of my head with one hand and runs his other hand over my back.
Letting go of the counter, I wrap my arms around his hard body. I explore the muscles in his shoulders and arms. He pulls me closer, pressing our bodies together.
Our kiss deepens, and time seems to stand still.
Breaking the kiss, Hunter says, "I don't know what it is that you do to me."
I open my mouth to say I have the same question about him, but before I can say anything his lips are back on mine.
My walls are working overtime, my panties drenched. I wiggle, trying to ease their cling against my mound. In the process, my body grinds against Hunter's dick. It's hard, and I gasp at his sheer size.
He places a hand on each of my ass cheeks, and lifts me without breaking our kiss. Backing me across the room, he lays me on the kitchen table.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he says, palming my breast through my dress.
As if.
With a firm touch, his hands travel over my waist and hips. When they reach the hem, he pushes my dress up around my waist.
Without hesitating, he hooks a finger in the top of my panties and yanks them off. I'm laid out on the kitchen table, waiting.
Hunter stands back and surveys me. I nudge my legs wider apart, begging him to touch me.
He leans in between my legs. His breath hot over my mound, and I squirm. He clamps his hands on my thighs, pinning me down and holding me still. My breath is gasping, and my heart pounds in my chest.
His tongue flicks across my mound, up and down my slit before settling on my clit.
"Fuck, Hunter," I cry out.
It's been so long since a man has done this to me, but I can't remember ever feeling this good.
Hunter grunts, and sucks my clit hard. Hard enough that all the heat in my body transfers into that one small nub between his lips.
My body turns rigid. I feel like a humming, buzzing band ready to snap.
He takes his left hand from my thigh and lays it over my hips, holding me still. His right hand slides up my thigh and tickles my mound. My muscles tense further while I inwardly beg for him to enter me.
His fingers find my entrance, and he drives them into me. Almost instantly, my walls clamp around his fingers. I squeal, on the edge of oblivion.
My sounds urging him on, he spreads his fingers within me, scissoring them against my most sensitive spot.
A tidal wave of bliss forms at his fingertips and rushes over me. I instantly dissolve into the table, a puddle of pulsating joy.
Hunter takes away his hand. My walls no longer have anything to grip as they spasm, and if I wasn't so breathless I would beg him to put them back.
After a moment, his tip is at my entrance. He pushes his thick girth into me, stretching me as my walls continue to spasm.
He scoops his hands underneath my body, and lifts me off the table. Turning with him still inside me, he sets me on the counter beside the sunflowers.
"You feel incredible," he says, "Like I am where I belong."
I whimper, and say, "I've never felt so good."
My hands slide up under his T-shirt, and he quickly pulls it over his head. His body is chiseled, and I run my fingers over the ridges of his six-pack.
He drives into me again, and I have to circle my arms around him to steady myself. His arms support me from falling backwards as he thrusts into me.
My body tenses and builds again, and I cling to Hunter. He grunts, and his dick throbs as he climaxes. It's enough to make my body react, and I once again dissolve as waves rush me.
Hunter holds me in his arms, still inside me, for long after our orgasms finish. And I don't want him to let go. Ever.
I don't know what it is about him, but I've never felt complete. And right now I feel very, very complete.
He kisses my cheek, and says, "I need to clean up in the washroom."
"Me too," I say, in no rush to do anything.
Pulling out, he helps me off the counter and I lead him to the powder room. We move from the kitchen to the hallway, and into the two-piece near the front door.
We finish cleaning ourselves, and exit the powder room.
Hunter freezes on the spot.
I follow his eyes. Hanging on the wall is a photo with the lettering Jack over top of it. Underneath, is a certificate Jack won at summer camp, with his name written in big colorful letters across it.
"Jack is your son," Hunter states, all the kindness gone from his voice.
"He-"
"You didn't feel the need to tell me that your son is my son's bully." He can't hide the anger in his voice.
Hunter
Unbelievable.
I've just had the best sex of my life, with the woman who makes me feel ways I haven't felt in years.
And now this.
Betrayal.
"I'm sorry, Hunter. I really am. I wanted to tell you, I was going to tell you at dinner, it's just we didn't make it to dinner."
"Were you really? I don't believe you."
"I've already talked to Jack. I feel terrible. He's never done anything like this before. His friend Mason told him to make fun of Harry because of his name, to call him hairy gorilla. Apparently Mason said he wouldn't be his friend unless he did that."
"So?"
"So you're right. It's no excuse and I've told Jack how what he did was wrong." Penny's lips inadvertently pout as she finishes her sentence.
Ignoring their lure, I stride back into the kitchen.
"The point is, you didn't tell me. I asked you if you knew Jack."
"And then we got interrupted," she says, rushing after me.
I knew she was too good to be true. I retrieve my T-shirt, and pull it over my head. Turning on my heels, I strike back in the direction of the front door.
"Wait, Hunter, don't leave like this."
I bite my lip to swallow the anger. I turn to tell her how I'm feeling again, but she's nowhere in sight. Grabbing the door handle, I pause, thinking back of how amazing the day has been up until this point.
Having my dick in her was like being home. It calmed me. Part of me is drawn to stay. But the other half thinks of my son and how she lied to me about his bully.
I open the door, and the fresh air clears my head. Relationships can't be started with a lie. I step over the welcome mat, and pull the door shut behind me.
Fishing in my pocket, I pull out my car key and click the unlock button. I open the door to my Porsche, flinging it wide in frustration.
"Wait!" Penny calls as the front door opens.
She sprints down the front steps into my car, her hair still disheveled from our earlier activities.
She's carrying something in her hand, but staring directly at me instead of watching where she's going. Her foot clips the edge of a skateboard, and she goes toppling onto her front. She puts her hands out to protect herself. Whatever she was carrying goes flying through the air.
It's a bad spill, and I instinctively rush to her side.
"Are you okay?" I ask, helping her to her feet.
Her cheeks blaze red, and she rubs her palms. "I wanted to show you something. Something that Jack made," Penny blurts.
A heaving sigh leaves my chest. All I care about now is that she isn't hurt. I take her hand, and pick out the pebbles that are stuck in her palm.
"Please don't go," she whispers.
I'm holding her hand in mine, and I long to kiss it better, the way I kiss Harry better when he's hurt.
My eyes sweep over her, and our gaze connects. The familiar jolt of electricity shocks me, as it does every time I look at her.
Something is different about her.
"I talked to Jack about how he made Harry feel, and how you should never make anyone feel bad. He understands now, and he made that for Harry," Penny says, pointing to what she had been carrying.
Leaning down, I pick up the heavy paper. It's a painting of two boys playing together. At the bottom, in the uneven letters of a first grader is the word sorry. There's a yellow medal on one of the boys.
As if she's reading my mind, Penny points to the medal and says, "That's a welcome medal, for the best new boy in school. A boy so ‘nice and kind that everyone wants to be his friend.' At least that's how Jack described him."
I stare at the painting in my hands. Penny really was telling the truth about how she'd talked to him. My heart swells, relieved that this whole bullying issue seems to be ending.
Nothing in the world matters more to me than Harry.
Penny finishes picking the little stones out of the palms of her hands, flicking each one back onto the driveway in a nervous tic.
"He'd like to apologize in person to Harry, and to give him one of his most special toys to show how sorry he is."
"I'll have to ask Harry. He might not want to talk to him."
"Of course, whatever Harry wants," she says, a broad smile forming across her face.
"I'm sure it will be okay. You know, kids."
"They make mistakes. Just like adults. Sorry I didn't tell you Jack was my son right away."
I drop the painting to my side, and draw her tight against me with my free hand and press my lips against hers.