Sex, Not Love

“Can I cut in?” Hunter tapped Mark on the shoulder. “You’re hogging the most beautiful guest all to yourself.”

Anna’s dad smiled and wagged a finger at Hunter. “You’re lucky you said guest, considering my bride looks so beautiful tonight.”

The two men did a bit of backslapping, and then I was in Hunter’s arms. Unlike Mark, who’d kept his body a polite distance from mine as we danced, Hunter took one of my hands in his, slid the other down my back and used it to pull my body flush. Damn, that feels good.

“You’re holding me a little tight.”

“Just making sure you can’t run away again.”

I pulled my head back. “Again? I’ve never run away from you.”

“Call it whatever you want, but you’ve been avoiding me like I have something contagious.”

I mumbled. “You probably do have something contagious.”

He ignored me. “You look beautiful tonight. I like your hair up.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled me still closer, forcing my head to turn into his shoulder, then dipped down to whisper in my ear. “I can’t wait to yank it down later.”

What balls on this guy.

And, God, why the hell did I want him to yank my hair down?

“You’re out of your mind. In fact, just about everything you’ve said to me since we met has been inappropriate.”

“So only you can talk about your plans to fuck someone? I can’t?”

“I haven’t talked about my plans to sleep with anyone.”

“You were talking to Anna about sleeping with Adam when we met.”

“That was a private conversation.”

He shrugged. “So’s this.”

“But…” I was at a loss—partly because he was sort of right. In my mind, it was okay to talk about sleeping with someone to a third person, yet it was wrong for him to be so blunt when speaking directly to the party potentially involved. It didn’t really make sense, but I grasped at a reason that sounded logical. “You’re crass about it. I wasn’t explicit. It’s how you say it that’s offensive, not what you say.”

“So you don’t like dirty talk? Maybe you haven’t had it done the right way before.”

“I’ve had it done just fine.”

“You do like dirty talk, then?”

This man was impossible. Luckily for my sanity—and possibly my willpower—the song we were dancing to ended, and the DJ announced that it was time for dinner. Although Hunter still didn’t loosen his grip.

“The dance is over. You can let go now.”

“Save me another one later?”

I smiled broadly. “Not a chance.”

Of course, Hunter liked that answer. He chuckled and kissed my forehead. “Bet you’re a firecracker in bed. I can’t wait.”

“Enjoy your evening, Mr. Delucia.”

I felt his eyes on my ass every step I took to exit the dance floor.