Hunter sat back against his faded couch cushions with ice on his shoulder and an ear-to-ear grin on his face. Although he'd turned on the second game of a baseball doubleheader a couple hours ago, he'd be taking a flier if anyone asked him who was winning, or h.e.l.l, who was even playing.

The memory of how Emerson had looked when she'd woken up next to him this morning, how they'd split the Sunday paper over breakfast but ended up ditching both for a bunch of deep kisses he could still taste on his tongue, how her hair had tumbled over his pillows in an even combination of sweet and s.e.xy and her mouth formed a perfect smile to match?

Now that had his attention.

Haven't you ever wondered what if . . .

A knock sounded off against his front door, delivering Hunter back to his cottage with a swift dose of what-the-h.e.l.l. Barring anything unnatural-or, okay, very natural, as in, of the disaster variety-Hunter, his brothers, and their father had Sundays off while a skeleton crew of farmhands cared for the livestock on the back half of Cross Creek's property. Even during daylight hours, which at this point were quickly surrendering to dusk, company on this side of the farm was rare at best.

Then again, he hadn't answered either of his brothers' texts (Owen's being What's up with you and Emerson? And don't insult me by saying work. And Eli's less decorous but equally nosy Look at you with the hot girl! Call me with deets, jacka.s.s!), so one of them had probably decided to come out to give him a proper load of good-natured ribbing.

Hunter tugged the ice pack off his shoulder and pushed to his feet. Taking the dozen or so necessary steps to cover the ground between his couch and the front door to his cottage, he broke out a smile as he braced for brotherly impact. He twisted the doork.n.o.b and tugged the door wide on its hinges, but the person standing in front of him wasn't Owen, and it also wasn't Eli.

She was, however, the last person he'd expected to see on his doorstep.

"Emerson?" Hunter blinked, half certain his eyes were playing a mischievous trick on him in the deepening shadows. It was definitely her, though, with a nervous smile on her lips and a cla.s.sy black dress hugging her curves just enough to make his pulse sit up and take notice.

"Hey. I'm sorry for coming by without calling," she said, but he shook his head, waving off the idea.

"No apologies. With cell service around here, it probably wouldn't have done you any good until you were in the front yard, anyway." Hunter aimed for a neutral expression even though his head was br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with a three-to-one ratio of curiosity to concern. "Come on in."

"Thanks." Emerson's heels sent an elegant clack-clack-clack over the floorboards as she followed him inside, the sound stopping short as they reached the living room. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Just a whole lot of channel surfing," he said, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV. "I didn't think I'd see you until our PT session tomorrow. Not that I mind." He lifted a hand to rea.s.sure her, because, really, that dress was starting to give him some seriously impure thoughts. "But is everything alright?"

"Oh yeah, everything's great. I just . . ." A self-deprecating laugh slipped past her lips, but she didn't shy away from his gaze. "Actually, I'm full of c.r.a.p. I went to dinner at my parents' house, and the whole thing was pretty much a nightmare."

Ah h.e.l.l. That explained the dress. Along with all the emotions swirling in her eyes like a bright-blue storm. But if Emerson's evening had already been rough, a raft of irritating questions wouldn't improve her mood, and Hunter knew far better than to coddle her with a bunch of overblown sympathy. Even if he did want to help.

"That bad, huh?"

She nodded, although she didn't lower her gaze or shy away from the question. "Did I mention that 'nightmare' was kind of a euphemism? I left before the first course."

"Ouch." There was no helping his wince, or the squeeze in his gut that accompanied it. "I'd say that definitely qualifies as pretty s.h.i.tty. Do you want a beer to drown your troubles?"

"Thanks, but no."

"How about some dinner?" He'd thrown back some leftovers a little while ago, but if she'd skipped out on the meal at her parents' place, she was probably hungry.

But Emerson just shook her head. "I'm okay."

Hunter paused. "You want to talk about what happened with your parents?"

"G.o.d, no."

All at once, he registered the flush riding high on her cheeks, the ever-so-slight smile shaping the bow of her mouth, and the step he took toward her was pure instinct. "Then what do you want?"

The emotion in her eyes shifted, turning into unmistakable desire. "Just you, Hunter. Right now, all I want is you."

He didn't wait, didn't think. He just moved, bending to claim Emerson's mouth with his. The sigh that escaped from her vibrated with need against his lips, and f.u.c.k, Hunter felt it everywhere. Cupping her face with both hands to keep her close, he coaxed her lips apart, tasting his way into her mouth. Her palms flattened over his biceps, but for only a second before she curled her fingers to clutch the edges of his T-shirt, and the sweet sc.r.a.pe of her nails on his skin pushed him to kiss her even harder.

Emerson met his every move. Darting her tongue past her lips, she explored his mouth, licking some spots while sucking on others. His c.o.c.k throbbed, growing harder with every ministration, and she rode the sensitive skin of his lower lip with the edge of her teeth until he was sure he'd come right out of his skin.

"Emerson." Hunter tightened his fingers on the hot silk of her skin, thrusting them back into the tidy knot at her nape. Emerson's hair unraveled over her shoulders, filling the air with the sweet, heady scent of honeysuckle, and she pulled back to pin him with a glittering stare.

"Do you remember what you said to me yesterday in bed?" She paused to run two fingers over her kiss-swollen mouth, sending his breath even faster through his lungs. "About how you'd like it if I took charge?"

Wild, wicked thoughts flashed through his mind. "Yeah," Hunter grated, his legs fast-tracking toward a labor strike as he watched her index finger slide past her lips.

"Good." Emerson dropped her hand, reaching beneath her opposite arm to lower the zipper on the side of her dress. The black fabric loosened around her lean frame, and a few well-executed dips of her shoulders sent the whole thing pooling to the floorboards.

She stepped out of both the dress and her shoes, standing in front of him in the soft glow of light filtering in from the open foyer. While her dress had been tastefully pretty-downright demure, even-her bra and panties were the polar opposite, just sheer sc.r.a.ps of material held together by nothing more than ribbons and luck. The inky lace cradled her pale skin, surrendering to the curve of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the sweet, soft indent between her thighs, and even though Hunter knew he was staring outright, he couldn't make himself stop or look away or even blink.

Holy s.h.i.t, Emerson was so gorgeous, it hurt.

Something he couldn't identify flickered through her eyes, there and then gone. Then she closed the s.p.a.ce between them, pressing a kiss over his mouth before leading him a few steps away to the couch. Wordlessly, she reached down for the hem of his T-shirt, lifting the cotton over his head with a seamless pull.

"Did you know I watched last night when you put your mouth on me?" she asked, the question sending a bolt of shock past Hunter's want-fueled haze.

"You did?" he managed, and wasn't that just every kind of hot in the book.

Emerson nodded. "In the mirror. I watched everything. The way you kissed me. How you used your tongue to make me come."

His heart slammed against his rib cage, his c.o.c.k t.i.tanium hard. "And did you like watching?"

"Yes. But that's not all I like."

Splaying her hands over her shoulders, she guided him to the couch cushions with a push, but it wasn't until she lowered her body to kneel between his knees that he put one and one together to come up with the sum of oh f.u.c.k yes.

"Emerson." Her name was a prayer in his mouth, sweet and needful.

She answered with a turn of her wrist, freeing the b.u.t.ton at the top of his jeans. "Hunter."

The impulse to pleasure her rolled through his chest, warring with the want burning deep in his belly. "You're making me"-the slide of Emerson's fingers on his c.o.c.k stopped the breath in his lungs, and there went his zipper-"crazy, here."

"You're making me crazy, too. But I won't hold back if you don't."

Powerless to do anything else, Hunter lifted his hips to let her lower his jeans and boxer briefs. His c.o.c.k sprang free, and she captured him in one hand while wrapping the other around his waist. The friction of her fingers directly on his skin made his b.a.l.l.s go tight and his brain go numb.

Then she replaced her fingers with her mouth, and he lost what little was left of his G.o.dd.a.m.n mind.

"Oh f.u.c.k." Hunter's breath tore from his throat on a hard exhale. Emerson's lips tilted into a smile, but she didn't slow her movements. She edged her tongue over the crown of his c.o.c.k, just a feather-light swirl of hot, wet heat, and it took every last ounce of his restraint not to buck off the cushions to thrust into her mouth.

"Mmm." As if sensing his raw need for more, she circled her fingers around his length, pumping her hand in a firm glide as she kept the strokes from her tongue soft. The opposing sensations combined to send sparks through Hunter's blood, and even though part of him was tempted to close his eyes and lose himself in the feel of her working his c.o.c.k with both her mouth and her hand, he didn't. Instead, he dropped his chin to fix his gaze directly on Emerson.

Flame-colored hair wild over one shoulder. Glossy pearls clasped around her neck, bound by a satiny black ribbon. Skin flushed. Lips parted. Up and down. Over. And over.

He wasn't going to make it.

"Em." There was really no delicate way to put the thought stampeding through his brain, but they were a bit past the pleasantries stage, so he said, "If you don't stop, I'm not going to be able to stop."

Emerson pulled back just far enough to look up, her eyes blazing dark blue. "I came here because I wanted you, Hunter. All of you. I don't want you to stop."

She parted her lips back over him before he could answer, and Hunter was lost. The pressure of her mouth and the sensual sight of her kneeling between his legs took over his senses. She sucked and stroked, bringing his restraint to the tipping point. Release drove up from the base of his spine, wicked and insistent, and he didn't fight it. Knotting his fingers in Emerson's hair, Hunter gave in, each wave of pleasure more intense than the one before it. She took all he had to give, slowly scaling back her touches until she parted from his body with a smile.

"Come here," he grated, not waiting for her to respond before pushing forward to pull her close. Emerson let out a squeak of surprise as Hunter hooked his hands around her rib cage, guiding her to standing before righting his jeans with a rough yank.

"Where are we going?" she asked, half laughter, half gasp.

But his answer was all serious. "Right"-he paused just long enough to walk her backward to the small expanse on the wall leading to the kitchen, firmly pushing her shoulders against the s.p.a.ce-"here."

Emerson shivered, tiny goose b.u.mps spreading over her arms. "Oh. You don't want to go upstairs?"

"No." His body might need a minute to get back on track, but his brain screamed with a deep-seated urge to make her come. He didn't want to wait, not even the thirty seconds it would take for them to get upstairs. Caging her body with his, Hunter dropped his mouth to her neck, trailing a line of open-mouthed kisses over her skin.

"Hunter." Her voice was gravel and velvet all at once, but he didn't stop the path of his lips.

"You said you wanted all of me, right?" His mouth hovered just over her breastbone, desire pumping full-bore through his body at her heavily lidded stare.

Emerson nodded. "Yes."

Hunter's heart sped even faster as he knelt in front of her, and Christ, he'd never seen anything so perfect. "Then take it." He slid his tongue up the soft line of her inner thigh for an impulsive, teasing taste. "All of it."

Her knees parted, and the wordless reply was all Hunter needed. Reaching out, he anch.o.r.ed one hand on Emerson's waist, using the other to palm the swell of her a.s.s. The move brought her lace-covered s.e.x directly into his line of sight, and he traced the seam of her body with one finger. Her moan drove him to repeat the glide, the fabric growing easily damp at the sweet spot directly between her thighs.

Want began regathering low in his belly, but still, Hunter focused on Emerson-the catch in her breath, the s.e.xy scent of her skin so close as he worked her over the thin cover of her panties. Keeping his grip on her waist, he let his thumb drift up to stroke her c.l.i.t, and the sound coming out of her throat nearly wrecked him.

"You like this?" Hunter pressed again, slow and deliberate.

"Yes. Please, yes."

Emerson's hair swished over her shoulders with her nod. Reaching down, she tugged at the ribbons riding each hip, and the swath of lace fell away from her body. Her stance opened freely, revealing just enough of her s.e.x to make his c.o.c.k stir. Hunter knew he should take his time, go slowly and build up her o.r.g.a.s.m, breath by breath. But something hot and primal refused to let him, and instead, he covered her s.e.x with a relentless push of his tongue.

"Ohhhh," Emerson moaned, tilting her hips against the spot where they joined. G.o.d, she was flawless, wet and wanting and so d.a.m.n pretty that he couldn't hold back. He kissed her with brash, bold strokes of his tongue, holding nothing back. She answered his movements with eager thrusts of her hips, her gasps filling the room. Fueled by the dark, right-now urge to make her come, Hunter released her waist to bury a finger deep inside her s.e.x.

Yes. Oh h.e.l.l yes. The cry that crossed her lips brought him all the way back to full arousal. Still, despite the fact that his c.o.c.k wanted to switch places with his mouth in the worst possible way, he didn't stop.

Emerson didn't, either. She pressed her shoulders into the wall behind her, her back bowing toward him as she chased his fingers and mouth.

"Hunter. I . . . I . . ." The wet heat of her s.e.x tightened. Hunter swept his tongue over her, once, then once again even harder, and her tremble began from deep inside. She arched up on a moan, her body clasping his finger in waves of release. Each one turned him on even more than the one before it, and he held Emerson close until she went loose against his touch.

The need pulsing through him grew into a demand so hot, he stood just long enough to guide Emerson to the floor.

Her eyes flew wide in the dusky shadows. "You want to do this here?"

"I don't want to wait," Hunter corrected. He grabbed his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, pausing just long enough to take out his emergency condom before letting his clothes. .h.i.t the floor. Kneeling between Emerson's knees, he rolled on the condom and ran his palms over her thighs, intent on removing the slight s.p.a.ce between them.

She beat him to the punch, though, tilting her hips forward to create a brush of intimate contact, and Hunter cut out a harsh exhale.

"Jesus, that is hot."

"It gets hotter," she said, repeating the seductive slide to angle her body right where he ached to be most. "Come find out how much."

He pushed inside of her in one swift stroke. The sweet, slick pressure of her s.e.x gripping his c.o.c.k nearly knocked the breath from his lungs. Hunter took a second to acclimate, his hands finding the flare of Emerson's hips. Shifting to his knees, he started to move, guiding her close as he thrust slowly into her. They explored different rhythms-deep and drawn out, faster and harder-and each one dared him for more. He watched her body in the soft light, her lean inner thigh muscles flexing, the press of her berry-colored nipples against the black lacy bra that still cradled her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Everything about her was wide open and sensual, so perfect that he couldn't hold back.

Hunter angled forward to take her deeper, eliminating any s.p.a.ce between them. Emerson rocked beneath him, anyway, riding his c.o.c.k with want-soaked sighs, until finally she went bowstring tight on a cry. The sight of her release sent an unexpected shot of pleasure coiling up from some deep, hidden spot in his body, and it built with speed that shocked him. Hunter clutched her hips, curling his fingers into her skin in search of more. Despite the growing intensity of his movements, Emerson stayed right there with him, thrust for thrust and moan for moan, until finally, the climax whispering through him became a shout.

"Em." He came with a guttural exhale, his c.o.c.k buried deep in her s.e.x. For long seconds that might have been minutes or months or forever, as far as Hunter knew, they lay joined in a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs, with nothing between them but quiet. He left her just long enough for a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up, and when he returned, he covered her shoulders with the blanket he kept draped over the back of the couch.

"Hey. You ready for that trip upstairs now?"

Emerson's lips parted in shock. "Are you serious?"

Hunter laughed, pulling her close. She turned him on like nothing else, and he liked to think he had some moderately good stamina, but he wasn't frickin' Superman. "Very. But I was thinking more along the lines of using the bed for its primary function. For now," he added, because hey, he might be spent, but he was still a guy.

"Oh." Her laughter spooled around his, and man, the sound was sweet in his ears. "Well, with an offer that good, I suppose I can't refuse."

Emerson linked her fingers through his, holding on tight as he led her to bed.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Emerson lay on her back, staring at the play of moonlit shadows on Hunter's ceiling. Rationally, she knew she should close her eyes and get some sleep. Although it wasn't particularly late, she was particularly tired, and the last two days-or more specifically, the last two nights-had put a major dent in her energy reserves. But every time she tried to drift off in the warm quiet of Hunter's room, her brain overrode her body, refusing to let her rest.

Just you, Hunter. Right now, all I want is you.

After the showdown with her parents, Emerson had carved a direct path to her car with every intention of double-scooping herself through some triple-fudge therapy. She got halfway back to her apartment when she realized she wasn't headed to her apartment at all.

She'd been on her way to Hunter's. She'd needed comfort, and what she'd wanted was him.

Emerson hadn't just wanted to sleep with him, although at first, she'd thought it had been exactly that-the urge to lose herself in something she knew would feel good, something that would make her forget. As soon as she'd seen him on the doorstep, though, with that crooked smile and those ridiculously blue eyes that had always been able to see everything about her, Emerson understood that what she wanted wasn't to get lost.

She'd wanted to be found.

"You look like you're having some pretty deep thoughts over there," Hunter said, bringing her back to the room with a whisper. "Either that or you sleep with your eyes open and I'm having a really awkward conversation with myself."

Any vulnerability she wanted to feel at the way he'd caught her so lost in thought fell prey to the laughter bubbling up from her chest.

"No, I'm awake."

"Penny for your thoughts." He shifted to his back in the shadows so their bodies were lined up side to side, and the enticing warmth of his skin against hers put another dent in Emerson's armor.