***

Hunter took a shower after the drama had passed. He’d been at a construction site all morning and then traveled all afternoon to get home. The entire week I’d been imagining we’d rip each other’s clothes off the minute we were finally alone in his apartment, but the impromptu visit from the neighbor had dampened the expected mood—at least until he emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and looking insanely hot.

I’ve never been a good poker player. I wear my emotions on my face. Hunter caught me visually gulping his body, and perhaps I unknowingly drooled a little as I stared at the carved lines of his chest. Jesus. Men didn’t look like him in real life. Maybe the men on the advertisement painted outside the gym I belonged to but seldom visited…but not real, live men. His abs were defined and neatly cut into eight peaks and valleys that I wanted to trace with my tongue. If it were possible, his broad shoulders looked even wider without a shirt, and I couldn’t even begin to explain what the deep-set V that disappeared into his low-hanging towel did to me.

“Are we good?” Hunter’s voice was hoarse. “Because if you keep looking at me that way, I’m going to bend you over that couch you’re sitting on and give you the rest of the tour of my body from the inside out. But I’d rather not fuck you the first time when you’re pissed off.”

My eyes jumped to his, and he smirked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to fuck you pissed off. Preferably with both of us pissed off. Just not the first time.”

I swallowed. “We’re good.”

He kept the distance between us, which made me think he needed it to keep his control. “You hungry?”

Taking a lesson from his playbook, I arched a brow in response.

He chuckled. “You’re going to be the death of me. I just know it.” He scrubbed both hands over his face. “Did you eat dinner yet?”

I actually hadn’t, but food wasn’t on my priority list at the moment. “I’m not that hungry.”

“I’ll order us something.” While he was talking, my eyes dropped back down to follow the light line of hair that ran from his belly button into his towel. Hunter mumbled as he walked to the bedroom, “You’re making it very difficult to do the right thing.”

***

Hunter grabbed two throw pillows from the couch and tossed them on the floor. “Alright if we eat in here?”

“I’d like that.”

He put on some background music and grabbed a bottle of wine while I unloaded the takeout Chinese food. I loved that one night he made me dinner and served it on the kitchen island, and the next he handed me chopsticks and a container. There was something so intimate about eating at the coffee table. I’d ordered cashew chicken, and he’d ordered shrimp chow mein. Every once in a while, he’d hold out his container, and we’d swap and exchange smiles.

When I wasn’t running away from him literally or figuratively, I really did enjoy his company.

“How was your trip?” I asked.

“Busy. The client changed his mind about forty times before settling on what I’d proposed in the first place.”

I flashed a cheeky grin. “Sounds familiar—you must bring that out in people.”

He chuckled. “How was your week? Visit with the ex go okay?”

I set the container down. “It never does.”

“What happened?”

“I take her to visit her father because I care about her. Garrett uses Izzy as an excuse to talk to me and tries to pump her for information. She’s starting to see him for who he is.”

“That sucks. Sounds like he doesn’t appreciate what he has left.”

“Yeah. He really hurt her this time. On the drive home, she pretty much told me she wants to stay with me even after Garrett gets out.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Honestly, I hadn’t given it any serious thought until she mentioned it. Until recently, she’d spent much of our time together silently hating me from her bedroom. But when she put it out there, I realized I can’t see my life without her in it anymore. And as much as she tries to push me away, she wants a mother figure in her life. Maybe Garrett and I can work it out.” I shrugged. “It works for plenty of divorced couples that the mom keeps custody and the kids visit the dad on the weekends. I happen to not share DNA with her, but I don’t see her as any different than my own.”

Hunter looked at me funny.

“What?” I said.

“You’re a great mom.”

I felt my heart squeeze. A great mom. No one had ever said those words to me. “Thank you. Like I’ve told you, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, but I try to always put her first.”

Hunter set his container down on the table and finished the last of the wine in his glass. “Come here, MILF.” He held out a hand to me.

When I placed mine in it, he somehow maneuvered to tug me up and onto his lap so I straddled him.

“Never fucked a hot mom before.”

I smiled. “You’re so crass.”

Hunter locked our fingers together, and his face turned serious when he looked into my eyes. “We okay?”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Your eyes are saying something different.”

“What do you mean?”

“They either tell me you want me or tell me you want to run away from me. There’s never an in-between with you. When I was a kid, me, my brother, Derek, and all the neighborhood kids used to play this game called Red Light Green Light 1-2-3 where one person was ‘it’, and the goal was to get to him while he sang red light green light 1-2-3. But at any time, it could yell red light and turn around. Then everyone had to freeze in place and stop advancing.”

My forehead crinkled. “I know the game, but what does it have to do with me?”

“You’re it. I keep advancing, but I feel like any minute you’re going to yell red light again, and I’m going to need to freeze—possibly with a bad case of blue balls.”

While his analogy was a little crazy, he wasn’t that off base. I’d been sending him hot and cold signals since the first day I met him, looking for any excuse to run the other way. But it all boiled down to one truth.

I looked at our joined hands and raised my eyes to meet his. “You scare the crap out of me, Hunter. But I can’t seem to walk away.”

He held my gaze. “It’s not an adventure without a little fear.”

At that moment, I truly decided to take a chance. I’d been burned, but I’d healed. I’d been pushed down, but I’d gotten back up. I wasn’t ready to think about the rest of my life anyway, so why not enjoy an adventure? Taking a deep breath, I quietly sang to Hunter, “Green light, green light, 1-2-3.”

There was a hesitant look in his eyes, and his forehead crinkled.

“I got rid of the red light. It’s all green from here on out.”

Hunter cupped the back of my neck and pulled me down to him. Our lips collided in a kiss that began differently than all of our others. Normally we started with pent-up frustrations that took the form of clashing of tongues and teeth. But this time it wasn’t building frustration that fueled our passion; it was the release of the frustration that had been holding us back.

Our kiss was slower, deeper, more sensual. The kind of kiss that makes you feel like you’ve never really been kissed before. I felt his cock swelling between my parted legs and unconsciously began to rub myself up and down on it as our kiss intensified.

Hunter’s fingers fisted in my hair, and he groaned. “Slow down, babe.”

“I don’t want to slow down anymore,” I whispered, grinding down harder.

If I’d had my way, we’d have finished what we started right on the living room floor. But apparently Hunter had other ideas. He lifted me from his lap and scooped me up into his arms.

He never took his eyes off of me as he walked us to the bedroom. “I need to be inside you in the worst way, but you riding me on the living room floor—as tempting as that is—will not bode well for a solid first performance. Although you can be damn sure that’ll be happening this weekend at some point. Right now, you’re going to get my mouth first so I can make sure you’re taken care of before I embarrass myself like a teenage boy when I finally get inside you.”

Hunter set me down on the bed and started to undress. First came the shirt. He lifted his hands behind his head and tugged, pulling it off in one fluid motion. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I was eye to eye with his happy trail—and boy, did it make me happy. Next came the pants. My eyes stayed glued to his hands as his fingers worked the button and zipper of his jeans. The sound of every metal tooth separating vibrated in the pit of my belly.

Hooking two thumbs into the sides, he pulled them down his thick thighs and stepped out, kicking them out of the way. When he stood back up, wearing only black boxer briefs, my mouth fell open. Hunter was packin’ an enormous bulge, the tip of which was peeking out from the top of his underwear band. Moisture glistening at the top of the crown mesmerized me.