His Every Touch (For His Pleasure, Book 8) (6 page)

Instead, she went to bed by herself, crawling under the cool covers and trying to let herself fall asleep, even though she wasn’t quite tired enough yet.

Finally, sleep did come, though.

When she awoke, it wasn’t clear what time it was. Hunter was sliding into bed beside her. His arms wrapped around her and his lips came close to her ear as he scooted his hips up against her from behind. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back.

She moved against him and he against her. Soon he was kissing the back of her neck and his hands were cupping her breasts. She was completely naked, because she had no change of clothes and hadn’t wanted to snoop through his drawers, nor go back downstairs to ask him for anything else to wear.

He seemed to be enjoying her state of undress, however, as he grinded against her and massaged her bare breasts. “Kallie,” he whispered. And then he kissed up and down her neck, as his hand strayed down to the wet place between her thighs.

She oohed slightly as he began to rub, opening her with one touch.

His hand was magic, his touch was magic. All of her concerns and reservations floated away as he held her in the darkness and his hot body burned against hers.

Moments later, he was sliding into her from behind, fucking her with precision and passion, every stroke sending chills of delight through her body.

She came three times before he finally finished, and then they lay together, as if glued to one another, for the rest of the night.

***

When she awoke the next morning, Kallie was disoriented. It felt fairly late in the day, judging by the light that was filtering in through the windows.

She sat up, squinting, and then reached down to her purse and took out her phone.

It was just passed eight in the morning. Not that late after all.

She had a bit of a headache, which Kallie attributed to the wine from the previous evening.

And then the memories of the late night encounter came flooding back to her and she smiled, remembering everything about how he’d touched her and the way his body had felt against hers.

Sliding out of bed naked, she didn’t know at first what to wear. But then she saw that Hunter had laid out another robe for her—at least, she assumed it was meant for her.

In any case, she put it on and slowly padded downstairs, expecting to find him in the kitchen or the living room. Then she thought he might even be in the basement—

perhaps working on a new contraption for later?

She didn’t know. Going back to the kitchen, she saw that he’d already put on a pot of coffee. Straining to hear anything, she stopped and listened. And finally, distantly, she heard it. Clacking noises. Faint at first, but once her ear had tuned in on the sounds—she knew it was Hunter at work.

Kallie followed the hallway down to the end, where there was a door ajar, just past the basement.

Sitting inside a relatively small office was Hunter, with a laptop computer open and a printer nearby. Reams and reams of paper were strewn all over the desk and even the floor. There was also a bulletin board and tacked to it, more pieces of paper with red lines everywhere and handwritten notes. It looked bizarre, she thought, but then she’d never known any professional writers.

This must be how they work, she told herself. No judgment. And funnily enough, it was the only room in the house that actually appeared lived in.

Hunter turned as she stood outside the room. “Hey!” he said, smiling, which greatly relieved Kallie. “You’re up.”

“Yes, I am. Thanks for the robe.”

“It looks good on you.”

“I think if it were up to you, I’d never wear anything else.”

“Can I help it if I find a good bathrobe incredibly sexy?” He swiveled fully around and looked her up and down. “Come here.”

She walked in, feeling as though she were walking into a mosque or temple or otherwise sacred space. “Am I allowed?”

“Yes, Kallie. But only if I specifically invite you, so don’t get any more ideas about snooping through my stuff.”

She laughed, walking inside. He reached out, took her hand, and then sat her down on his lap. He smelled good—like coffee, but his breath still had the hint of mint that she always noticed. He kissed her firmly on the mouth. “Damn you taste good,” he told her. His hands ran under her robe to her thighs.

She felt her skin tingle and a chill ran up her spine. “What’s going on in here?”

she asked, trying to keep her thoughts straight as he touched her beneath the robe.

“Oh, just some work. I always work best in the morning.”

She wanted to ask him what he was working on, but decided against it. “Are you going to be working a while longer or—“

“No, I’ve been at it already for close to two hours. Time for a break. You feel like having coffee?”

They left his office and went back to the kitchen, where Hunter poured her a cup and made himself a fresh mug, and then they went up to the terrace and sat at the table, sipping coffee and talking.

It was easy to be with Hunter, Kallie thought as he made conversation about a wide range of topics. Movies, books, politics—he seemed to know a little something about everything and he always had a funny line to say or a cute anecdote.

And yet somehow, she sensed that all of his charm and his funny stories were all carefully designed in such a way as to keep the other person at bay. None of his anecdotes were personal—even if they were about him, you never found out any real details about his life from them.

He was like a magician who worked in words and language, she decided. The illusion was that you were getting to know the real Hunter Reardon, when the fact of the matter was that you knew just as little at the end as you did when starting out.

Still, Kallie enjoyed sitting on the terrace and chatting with him. Even if he didn’t want to share the intimate details of his life with her, he was great to look at and perfectly good company.

The air was refreshing and the coffee was strong. By the time she’d finished her cup, she was feeling like someone had just hooked her up to a car battery. “I should probably go back home before tonight,” she said, sighing and pushing her empty cup away from her on the table.

Hunter cocked an eyebrow. “Why should you go home? We’re going to the dinner together.”

“I know, but I have nothing to wear and—“

“So? I’ll buy you ten outfits, you can have your pick.”

She looked down, her cheeks reddening. “That’s a sweet offer, Hunter. But I couldn’t do that.”

“You can and you will. Remember the contract?” He tapped the tabletop with a finger. “I can quote chapter and verse if you like, Kallie. But one of the provisions, as you well know, is that I pay for your clothing and expenses.”

She bit her lower lip, confused again. There were certain things she hadn’t really taken very seriously in that contract, and one of those things had been the idea that Hunter was going to start paying her way. It was silly, it was wrong—it was like prostitution in a way.

Maybe you should have thought of that before you went and signed the darn
thing.

“I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with you buying my clothes,” she said.

He smiled wryly. “And I’m not sure that I’m comfortable with your discomfort.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we have an agreement. In fact, you pretty much wrote the thing yourself.”

“From memory of what you’d already given me,” she reminded him.

“It doesn’t matter. You could have taken that part out if you didn’t like it.”

She sighed, knowing he was right. “I wasn’t thinking straight, Hunter. I wasn’t thinking of how it would make me feel.”

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “How does it make you feel?”

“Like you’re paying me for sex. Am I nothing more than a paid escort? I’m sure there are plenty of women who would do the whole BDSM thing if you paid for some nice high-end shoes and purses.”

He shook his head. “We’re not arguing this, Kallie. You had your chance to make changes to the contract. Now is not the time to rewrite the rules.”

“It just makes me uncomfortable. How could I have known until I actually experienced how it makes me feel?”

“I’m buying you those clothes. We’re going shopping,” he said, like a parent scolding a teenager about hitting the books.

She had to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his own expression not one of humor.

“I just can’t get over how ridiculous this is. I mean, you’re actually angry at me for not wanting your money!”

He finally cracked a smile. “I’m not angry at you. I just want you to enjoy the perks of this arrangement. Stop making everything so difficult.”

“Fine. You want to see shopping? I’ll show you shopping,” she said.

He grinned wider. “That’s the spirit.”

***

Kallie was already exhausted and the engagement celebration dinner was still more than two hours away.

Hunter was lugging the bags and bags of clothes into his house and she was following behind him, feeling like a little girl who was handed the keys to the candy shop and the toy store all at once.

There’s a reason nobody ever really opens the candy store and the toy store to a little girl and lets them grab everything in sight, Kallie thought, as she plodded behind Hunter lugging bags and bags of her stuff. And right now, Kallie had the headache to prove why this shopping trip had been such a bad idea.

All told, Hunter had paid for more than eight thousand dollars worth of clothing and sundries. She’d bought a Prada purse and Prada heels, a Gucci bracelet, a dress from Michael Kors, bras and panties from Victoria Secret, and more makeup than any reasonable person needed from Sephora.

The entire time it had been like a game of chicken, with Kallie shopping at high speed and daring Hunter to swerve first and pull the plug on her spending spree.

But he’d stayed the course, and finally she’d been the one to swerve first. Unable to muster up the courage (or audacity) to bring even another stitch of clothing up to the register, Kallie had finally admitted defeat.

Hunter was too determined, too crazy, and possibly too rich for her to make a dent in his armor. She didn’t know when or if he’d have ever told her to knock it off.

Now that they were done with the shopping extravaganza, she was feeling rather sick and remorseful. It was positively wasteful and outrageous to go and spend so much money on things she didn’t even need.

After all, she’d never spent more than a hundred dollars on a pair of shoes before—why did she need to start now?

They got to the master bedroom, and Hunter dropped the bags on the floor and then jumped backwards onto the bed, kicking his feet out and putting his hands behind his head, smiling at her expression of disbelief.

“So,” he said, his usual mischievous grin still in place. “That was entertaining.”

“That was stupid. I think we should bring it all back.”

He shook his head slowly. “Ummm…No.”

“I just spent four or five months of a perfectly good salary on my wardrobe, buying a bunch of things I don’t really need.”

He chuckled. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

“If my parents knew—“

“If your parents knew about my basement, they’d be upset too. They’d probably be upset if they knew that you had a cup of extra strong coffee this morning.”

She glared at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, smirking ever wider, “that it’s your parents’ job to disapprove of things you do. And it’s your job to do them anyway, because you’re a unique individual who’s an adult now and can make her own decisions.”

“Do your parents disapprove of what you do?” she asked.

His smile disappeared and he just stared for a moment. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” he said.

She knew it was against the contract to ask him personal questions or to delve into his psychology, but she still felt hurt by his refusal to tell her almost anything about his life or his past. “Sorry,” she said, trying to appear convincing.

He brushed it off. “Anyway, let’s see how those fancy new clothes look on you, Kallie.” Hunter continued to lie on the bed with his fingers interlaced behind his head, watching her smugly.

“What do you mean? You want me to do a fashion show or something?”

“Yes. I want you to put on those clothes we bought today—I want to see them on you.”

Kallie was standing in the midst of the shopping bags and feeling like the world’s biggest fool. Here she had thought she was putting him to the test by purchasing more than he would be comfortable paying for, and he’d turned it around and put her to the test.

“You want me to put on a fashion show for you? In your bedroom?”

“That’s right. And I’m not very patient. Let’s get this show on the road, Kallie.”

“Fine,” she sighed, picking up the shopping bag with the dress from Michael Kors and the Victoria Secret bag too. She started to the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

She stopped in her tracks. “To the bathroom, to change. I thought—“

“You thought wrong.” Hunter was sitting up now.

Kallie stood awkwardly holding her shopping bags. “But I need to change.”

“I don’t want anything to happen behind closed doors. I need you to be completely naked before me.”

Her pulse was suddenly racing. The idea of changing in front of Hunter was terrifying, mortifying, but it was also somehow exciting her in a way that she couldn’t even fathom. She was simultaneously dreading taking her clothes off in front of him, while also getting turned on by the thought of it. Knowing that Hunter would be watching her closely, that he might be getting hard while he stared at all that exposed, vulnerable flesh…

“Okay,” Kallie replied softly, dropping the bags. She was on display and feeling very much on stage.

Hunter sat like a king on his throne, comfortably watching her as she tried to please him, despite her misgivings.

She took off her heels and then reached down and pulled her dress off in one sweeping motion.

“That’s very good,” he told her. “Now take off your bra and panties.”