Page 124 of Submission

“Actually, Megan,” a deep voice interrupts as he walks through the front door of our apartment. “It’s none of our business.”

I stand to face Hunter.

Hands seated on both of my hips.

“My best friend is our business.”

“Only for the next twenty-four hours.”

“And what happens in twenty-four hours?”

“Mr. Marc Fabre will land at the Los Angeles airport, and when he does, I don’t want you or Lena to be any part of that business. I won't fucking stand for it.”

Chapter 48

A Delicious Distraction

Megan

My back bows off the pillow-soft surface of our bed, and my body is so arched that the top of my head is almost flush against the mattress. My legs are bent at the knees and spread wide. My lips slightly parted.

While I realize that this moment is a strategic tactic on my fiancé’s part to distract me from worrying about Naomi’s arranged marriage predicament, God knows I don’t mind it.

Hunter’s mouth, that exquisite lush mouth of his, is right in between my legs–– caressing my core, sending me straight to orgasmic bliss.

“This is a fucking fantastic way to start the day,” I say after my last sweet release, totally spent.

“Fuckingfantastic, huh?” His rhetorical question is dripping in judgment. I don’t usually curse unless I’m angry or trying to seriously punctuate my point.

“I thought this was a no-judgment zone?” I ask, affectionately sliding one of my hands into the roots of his scalp.

“It is.” He smiles against my skin, placing small kisses along my inner thighs and hips. “Not judging. How are you feeling?”

“Me? I feel spectacular.”

“No nausea or anything?”

“Should I be concerned that you sound a little disappointed? Do you want me to be sick?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Megan. I just read that nausea is a sign of a healthy pregnancy.”

“Ahh, I see. Well, you worry too much. In fact, I was just telling the girls the other day that there's nothing about my body that actuallyfeelspregnant. Nothing but this. I have this insatiable need for you and everything we just did all the time, especially in the mornings.”

“I guess hormones are a wonderful thing.”

“Thank you, Dr. Spock.” I twist my mouth into a sarcastic smile. “I know that it’s hormones driving my need for you.”

He stops kissing my thigh and looks up at me with a serious look on his face.“Let’s not give hormones all of the credit. It’s obvious you want me because I’m fantastic in bed.”

“Oh, is that what you've heard?”

“That's what I know.” He smirks. “And every time you come for me, I’m assured that the rumors are true.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Could you be any more full of yourself?”

Hunter stands, and immediately, I miss his warmth between my legs.

“Where are you going?” I ask, wishing we could lounge around in bed all day.

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