Page 71 of Strut

“It doesn’t matter shit that they have no legal obligation to their models. Do they not have a fucking conscience?” she shouted down the line. “What the fuck are these people on, checking their morals at the door of their bloody bank accounts.”

Based on how the rest of the day had gone, it was kind of refreshing.

I cooked omelettes and toast for dinner, then poured Alec’s exhausted body into a hot shower. I fought off his soft-spoken demand for me to join him, wanting nothing more than to feel his body against mine and know he was safe, but he’d had a huge day and I figured he needed some thinking time. But when the water was still running after twenty minutes, I went looking.

Alec was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his eyes closed. I watched him for a moment and frowned at the lines of worry on his forehead and his pale complexion even under the hot water. With his blond hair plastered to his skull and his body slumped, he was the picture of misery, all his fight gone down the drain with the steaming water.

I turned the shower off and his eyes jerked open. “Come on.” I manhandled him to his feet, dried him as he stood there, and then walked him to bed.

He snuggled between the sheets and shot me an apologetic look. “I don’t think I’m up for anything—”

“As if.” I kissed his apology away. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here.”

I stripped and crawled in behind him, pulled him into my arms, and he was quickly asleep. In between watching the slow rise and fall of his chest and marvelling at these shiny new protective instincts that had seemingly sprung from nowhere, I watchedAlienand fantasised about feeding Darcy into that mouthful of teeth and how fucking good that would feel.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Alec

I woketo the grey light of morning flooding through the wide gap in the curtains we’d forgotten to close, the feel of hot skin at my back, and the familiar hum of traffic. Weekend or weekday, it didn’t matter in this crazy city where the streets were always crammed full of cars and seemingly endless lines of people going somewhere, or nowhere, another thing that didn’t seem to matter. Living with futile bureaucracy was an art form long mastered by New Yorkers whose happiness relied on resilience, determination, and a PhD in jungle warfare.

I lay quiet for a moment, relishing the scratch of Hunter’s scruff on my back, his soft puffs of breath with their musty early-morning tang sliding over my shoulder. His arm moved against my waist, tightening in sleep, and I drew breath and settled against him, feeling the press of his morning wood against my arse. I wriggled a little so it slid into my crease just enough to make me sigh and thought about the man at my back.

Hunter had proved to be the best fucking surprise. Whatever I’d expected when I’d agreed to give him a chance, this sure as shit wasn’t it. Get behind those walls and he was so much more than I’d believed possible, and he was slowly pulling apart my life one piece at a time and slipping himself into the gaps like glue. Everything still in place, just with him threaded all the way through like he’d always been there.

I wasn’t at all sure I could shoehorn him out quite so easily if things went tits up, and that caused a niggle or two of worry, but it was too late for that. Somehow, I’d arrived at the place where it felt like home in his arms in just a few weeks. A part of me didn’t want to spend too long fretting about the why of that, but another part was already stocking up on ice cream andI told you so’s for any heartache to come.

A horn blared in the street outside and I raised a hand to scratch my nose. Hunter’s leg immediately lifted over my thigh to lock me in place and I grinned. We’d done this dance all night. Every time I tried to shift away from the furnace that was Hunter’s body, he pulled me back in, never seeming to wake. By three in the morning, I’d given up trying, just rested in his arms and let my thoughts wander.

Darcy Fenchurch. How fucking dare he tell Berlini and Cage that it wasmewho’d crossed the line. But it had been the kick in the arse I’d needed, so there was that. I just wasn’t sure where I’d find myself when it all played out. Back home on the farm? God, please no.

Still asleep, Hunter grunted and rubbed his erection against me. I wriggled over to face him and slid my hand down his stomach to take his problem in hand. His eyes fluttered open with the first stroke, and he groaned softly.

“Mmm, and good morning to you, too.” He pressed his lips to mine and slipped his tongue into my mouth.

It felt good. So fucking good, and we made out lazily as I stroked him long and slow. His hand ghosted my hip and cupped the swell of my arse, pulling me close as he arched his back and thrust hard into my fist. But when his hand tried to wrap around my cock, I wriggled back. “No. Let me,” I whispered, kissing down the front of his chest and mapping a path through all that glorious thick dark hair, down to his tight belly. Down, down, to that first salty lick from his slit.

“Oh, god.” He fell onto his back and I followed him over, swallowing him down as he groaned and fisted my hair. “Fuck, Alec... so good...”

I got up on my knees and slid my hand between his legs, opening his thighs so I could cup his balls. I rolled them softly as I kept sucking and licking, tugging at the tender wrinkled skin just enough to elicit that deep rumbling purr that let me know I’d hit the spot. Hunter loved me playing with his balls and I was more than happy to oblige.

And when I had him writhing on the bed with his head slammed back into the pillow and his eyes closed, cursing my name, I sucked on my finger, then found my way to his hole and pressed inside, right up and onto his prostate.

“Oh fuuuuuuck!” He arched and thrust his cock into my mouth as far as it would go, fisting my hair as he shot down my throat. Once, twice, holding the third thrust until he was done.

Gagging a little, I swallowed what I could and let the rest spill out of my mouth.

He immediately pulled out and hoisted me up the bed so he could lick me clean, and then kiss me, plunging his tongue deep into my mouth, holding me tight, like he was scared I’d run away. He licked and nipped and groaned, and slowly the kisses grew sweeter, the hold softer, and the look in his eyes became tender and questioning.

Finally, he kissed my nose and then each eyelid in turn. “Can I return—”

“No... but thanks. Not yet.” I kissed him again. “I fucking love seeing you like that, so caught in the moment, so open, so... free. I love that I can do that for you. It makes me feel good... normal. But he’s still in my fucking head.”

Hunter gave a quick understanding nod and I fell a little more in love with him. “Take all the time you need, baby.” He rubbed our foreheads together. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I blew out a long, tired sigh and looked down, my fingers finding the hair on his chest. “What are you doing getting involved in all this, Hunter?”

He pulled back to look at me, a deep crease forming between his brows. “Are you having second thoughts?”

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