Page 43 of The Revenge Agenda

I nod, not sure exactly what’s happening, but the excitement in my gut tells me to go with it. “Then we’d turn it on. And you’d kiss me.”

“I’d kiss you?”

“Yeah … it’d look better like that. I think.”

Hunter’s frozen for five seconds … ten … and then his finger flicks out to jab at the big red button, and when he swings back around toward me, all the earlier amusement is gone. He stalks closer, one hand closes over my waist, and he grips the back of my neck with the other. He tugs me against him, chests meeting, thighs bumping, and as I draw a sharp breath, his mouth slams down over mine.

Hunter commands the kiss like he commands a room, in control, taking the lead, rearranging my scrambled mind, and leaving me reeling. His teeth clamp down on my bottom lip, and the second I grunt in pain, the second my lips part, his tongue pushes its way inside. I grip onto his shoulders, trying to match his passion, trying to remember what we’re doing this for, but losing the battle as my need overrides my brainpower.

The distance between us disappears, both of us pressing tighter together, chasing the passion of the kiss and the sizzling chemistry building in my gut.

The possessive way Hunter’s holding me has lust burning up my veins, and my cock is reacting eagerly. Insistently. I’m a horny mess as I grind it into his hip, and the delicious groan he lets out spurs me on.

Hunter’s hand leaves my waist and drops to my ass, grabbing a painful handful. His fingers dig in, and I wrench from his mouth with a throaty moan.

“Fuck,” he grunts, mouth dipping to lick his way along my neck. My legs are useless, a jelly mess, unable to hold my weight anymore.

I’m shaking against him as his teeth dig into the dip where my neck meets my shoulder. Cock aching, I pant as I try to catch my breath.

His hand tightens on my ass, squeezing, kneading before he releases it like he’s been zapped. Hunter’s lips disappear from my neck, breathing as labored as mine. “I think … I think we’ve got it.”

“Got it?”

“The shot. To send Ian.”

“Oh. Right. The shot. Yes.”

He pulls back a fraction so he can see my face. “Is that still okay?”

“Of course, that’s what we did this for. The whole reason. Revenge. Ha. We sure showed him.”

Hunter studies me for a moment. His thumb swipes my cheek in a way that doesn’t at all help the situation in my pants. “Should I not have done that?”

I shake off my haze. “I will never regret a kiss like that.”

Chapter 13

Hunter

Well, I didn’t wake up this morning expecting to be in this kind of ethical dilemma, but here I am. The first time I rewatched my kiss with Rush, I was sort of blown away by it. The fiftieth time? Yeah, I’d had to jerk off by that point.

I was completely unprepared for how hot a kiss it would be.

I’d expected awkward. Forced. It’s why I’d launched right into it before I could stop myself, but with the way Rush immediately let go, went to putty under my hands, rubbing himself sluttily against my leg …

My head drops back because that image is goddamn sinful, and I really don’t have it in me to get off again, especially since I need to be able to go to work Monday and look Rush in the eyes.

There’s also the matter of the video. And Ian. Who I’m supposed to be sending the video to.

It’s what Rush wanted, but now that I’ve seen it, I don’t want to share that moment.

Does that then make me an asshole for kissing Rush under false pretenses?

Or am I allowed to suddenly find boundaries I didn’t know I had?

And like everything in my life lately, I’ve managed to turn kissing a hot man into a clusterfuck. Maybe I should have slept with him. A quick, impersonal hookup. Filmed it. Sent it. Moved on.

I don’t usually kiss my hookups, and maybe that’s the difference?

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