HUNTER

Sex is exactly like I expect. The act of sharing my body forces me to expose myself and tear away all my armor. My vulnerability would be unbearable with anyone other than Tack. This man knows me. I believe he loves me. Right now, while our bodies soak in the lingering waves of pleasure, I don't care if we can last. He's without a doubt the only man I'll ever desire.

As I catch my breath, Tack stares at me in awe. "I love it when you played your guitar and sang in that one musical. The rest of those plays were, uh, intelligent, but I liked the singing one the best."

Laughing at his compliment's wording, I slide off my bed and walk to the sitting room to grab one of my guitars. I return to find him resting on his side. His expression is relaxed, yet his gaze holds unfounded worry.

Settling against the bedpost across from him, I tease, "I knew you were a stalker to be reckoned with when you endured that musical's three showings. The story was dull as fuck."

"You were glorious, though."

His praise makes me smile. Tack is a simple man interested in easily digestible entertainment. He must have been bored out of his mind during those plays, yet he didn't doze off or play on his phone.

The other women in those plays were so jealous. Their boyfriends and husbands wouldn't even attend their performances, while my "sexy friend" never missed a single one. Every time he stood and clapped during a curtain call, I struggled with my decision to keep him at arm's length.

Now, we're making a real go of what we feel. That's why I don't feel the need to cover up or play coy. No more holding back, I'm giving Tack everything I've got.

Strumming my guitar, I consider his favorite band and a song I know he likes. Tack's expression warms when I play "About a Girl."

I can't imagine feeling this comfortable—naked and singing—with anyone else. Tack has been my friend forever. He's seen me flub lines in plays, freeze up during improv performances, and send my drum stick flying across a bar during a rendition of "Country Roads." I've been sexy around him and a stone-cold dork. Even when I couldn't give him what he wanted, Tack never walked away.

After I finish the song, he asks, "How come you don't play the guitar in your band?"

"The Super Stacked Bimbos already have a guitarist. Besides, the drums are more fun."

"You could create your own band."

"What's the point? I don't want to do it full-time."

"What do you want to do? Like, you went to college. You have all these hobbies and you help with various charities. Is that what you want to keep doing?"

"Sure, why not?"

Tack scratches at his blond stubble and shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I can't picture where you'll be in ten years."

"You want to put yourself in my life yet can't picture what that would look like."

"That's probably true. I've tried to imagine us living together, but I can't picture life in a condo. When I considered us having a baby, I just saw my head on a baby and screamed in horror."

Laughing, I reach over and stroke his jaw. "My wealth offers me options. I can't really picture ten years out, either."

"Do you want kids?"

"With you? Of course. But if we had a baby, you'd need to be ready for it to look like me and get teased."

"Did people tease you?"

"Of course, but I didn't care. My mom has the same red hair, fair skin, and freckles. She still owns every room she enters. Men drool over her. Women trip over themselves to impress her. Why couldn't I be like that, too?" I explain and tap his foot with mine. "However, I worry my kid might not have such confidence. My child might be shy and feel bad about getting razzed."

"I can't imagine having a shy kid. I was loud and rude."

"Me, too," I reply, offering a grin as he plays with my foot.

"I don't want kids unless they're with you. Children aren't interesting. But when I think of a baby with you, I get excited."

His honesty sets my heart soaring. I start planning for our future. My excitement hits a wall once I remember I'm leaving tomorrow.

"Before Austen got together with Walla Walla, she sometimes talked about having a baby. My sister craved a family, but she was so scared to try anything. In the end, it worked out. But I never felt that urge. Yet, when Natasha got pregnant, something clicked in me. I started wondering what my baby would look like."

"Who was the dad in your fantasies?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Just this guy I know from around."

Tack grins and sits up in bed. His cock, thick and inviting, rests against his thigh. I set my guitar on the floor and crawl closer to Tack.

"I'm giving you a blowjob now. It's my first time doing it for real, so no questions or suggestions, please. Just absolute silence while I get acquainted with your cock."

Tack exhales painfully. "You're so beautiful, but I don't know if this is a good idea."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"We've chosen to make things real between us, so just relax and trust me with your precious man-meat."

"You sound like Siobhan."

"I actually heard that term from Carys. She was writing a love poem to Pork Chop for their anniversary and needed a term to rhyme with ‘lady heat.'"

As Tack chuckles, I sense he'll eventually tease his friend about that information. For now, his laughter dies on his lips as I guide open his thighs and settle between them. His gaze meets mine, and I feel him thinking.

I stroke Tack's powerful thighs as my teeth nibble at his hard belly. My touch makes him squirm.

"You're ticklish?" I whisper.

Tack smirks at my question. "I don't think so."

"Uh-huh," I murmur as my hand wraps around his thick cock. "I like how I'm still learning new things about you. Next up is what face you make while I suck your dick."

My mouth covers the head of his cock, drawing his length deeper. Tack inhales sharply. I love how vulnerable he looks when my gaze flashes upward. This isn't a blowjob by a club slut where he can lean back and enjoy himself. He's hyper-alert to my every gesture.

My hand strokes his shaft as my tongue dances across the tip. The flavor of his precum inspires me to take him deep into my wet mouth. Bobbing my head, I find a rhythm. My free hand teases his balls.

Even without experience giving blowjobs, I've studied the logistics. I know what men usually like. Tack isn't all men, though, so I pay attention to how he reacts to each caress and lick.

I want to make Tack feel good. No, even better, I want to make him go crazy. He's waited for so long to be with me.

Taking my time with his cock, I suck at the hard flesh until I feel him closing in on an orgasm. That's when I back off and stroke him with my hands while kissing the head. Once his breathing settles, I take him deep again and suck with more vigor.

I do this several times, bringing him to the edge before backing off to make him last longer. By the time he comes, Tack is so pumped up, he likely sees stars. I drink down every drop, quite proud over how I've made this wild man come apart.

"Hunter," he murmurs when I leisurely clean his dick. "Let me kiss you."

"Soon. You're rushing, Tack."

"Because you'll be gone soon."

Lifting my gaze, I take advantage of his neediness by suggesting, "You could come with me."

"Maybe," he says, but I doubt he believes his words.

I lift myself off the mattress and straddle his hips. Tack watches me like I'm already gone. I feel his mood getting tangled up in his insecurities.

My fingers slide through his hair, as my lips nuzzle his jaw. "Wherever I go, there'll be a place for you."

"How can you know that?"

"I'm rich," I reply immediately. "I'll insist on space for you, and people will get out of the way."

As Tack offers me a soft smile, his hands slide from my hips to my breasts. His thumbs gently caress my nipples.

"They need a lot of effort to get hard," I say and shrug. "They're shy or lazy or something."

"They got plenty hard when I sucked on them."

"Yes, yes, they did," I say and kiss his lips.

Tack sucks on my tongue as his fingers tease my nipples. Soon, he kisses my throat and collarbone before leaning me back to gain easier access to my breasts.

His lips on my nipples create a blazing heat between my legs. I gyrate my hips. My slick pussy seeks out his hard cock. Tack groans at the friction. I moan as his lips pluck my nipple. Our pleasure echoes in the room as he guides his cock inside me.

We move fast and raw, unable to do more than grunt and moan. Tack seems lost in his head, thinking about how long he's waited and how soon I'll be gone.

For me, I'm completely present. I memorize every whisker on his face, each strand of hair on his head, and the dark flecks in his blue eyes.

As I roll my hips and take Tack as deeply as possible, I want him to mark my body. That way, no matter how much distance stretches between us, I'll always feel him with me.