But Madison's raspy voice grated through my head:No fraternizing! I'll find out!
I quickly jerked myself free from Hunter's grasp and put space between us. Not that Hunter seemed bothered by it—he spotted a stack of my watercolor paintings that sat on my desk. He neared the desk, stared, and pointed his thick finger at the painting that rested on top.
“You did this?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “It's a sunset by the lake at my grandparents' house. Corny, right?”
I studied his face anxiously as he stared at my work. I hoped he wouldn't hate it—I wasn't very good, and honestly, pretty embarrassed by it. So my painting had always been sort of a private thing. Something I hadn't really shown anyone else besides my family. And Todd, but he never showed much interest.
“Corny? No way. This is awesome. I don't even know anybody who paints.”
“Well, that's not too surprising … you eat, sleep, and breathe hockey …”
Hunter lifted the sunset painting and looked at the one underneath it. Another one of my mundane landscapes.
“Oh, God,” I laughed anxiously, rushing over to him. “Don't. I'm terrible.”
“You're not bad at all! These are good—” he protested, but I grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him away with all my might.
But then I had a newproblem: all that space between us was gone again. Hunter easily wrestled his arm away from me and put his heavy hands on my shoulders and squeezed me gently.
“You're kind of amazing, aren't you?” he asked with that damned charming smile of his.
“No. Not at all.” I blew out a self-conscious breath. “God.”
“You have all these interests.”
“What, painting? Which I'm not even good at?” I laughed, self-deprecatingly. “And, what else, I figure skated once upon a time? Please, Hunter. You're just—”
Trying to get laid?I thought to myself.Yes, Honor. You know that's exactly what he's after.
“Hey. You're way too hard on yourself, Honor.”
I gulped. I wrapped my hands around his meaty forearm and tried to pry his hands free from my shoulders—but it wasn't any use. He was too strong, and some part of me didn'ttrulywant him to let go in the first place.
“Hunter …!” I panted in warning.
“Honor,” he answered. And he spoke my name so softly, so reverently—as if my name alone could bring him untold pleasure.
“We really shouldn't …” I hoped he couldn't detect the fragile weakness in my voice that betrayed my desires. But ofcoursehe could. Hunter's eyes darted down and looked at my lips. I knew then he wanted to kiss me. I couldn't help myself. I looked at his lips, so full and pretty … but alsomanlyas hell—especially with how his lower lip was a little swollen and busted from his fight with Cunningham.
One of his giant hands went to the small of my back and pulled me nearer. His other hand gently stroked the hair out of my eyes, until the job was done—and then his hand cupped the back of my head, and his face began to near mine.
No no no!I thought … but I didn't stop him. Icouldn'tstop him.
I held my palm softly to his cheek. The bristles of his coarse stubble scraped against my fingers as he leaned in.
At last, his lips met mine, and he stole his kiss.
Oh, God.
His lips were so big and soft, but his demeanor—so rough, so hungry. He didn't justkissme, he claimed me,allof me. He didn't just want me to kiss him back: he demanded it.
Feeling like I didn't have any choice in the matter, that he could just take what he wanted? It went against everything I believed, but … I couldn't deny that Ilikedit. A lot. It made it easier to forget about stupid Madison and her rules. And it made my stomach knot and churn with a forbidden excitement. A dangerous longing throbbed between my thighs.
I knew I had to be careful—I was playing with fire.
But still I kissed him back, my mouth melting into his juicy and tender lips. His tongue searched my lips, my mouth, filling me with his electric taste. With a whimper of surrender, I gave him his answer: my own tongue.
