Page 45 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
I think of where I have the print hanging in my office. How I’ve kept it close to me after all these years. How I had it painstakingly restored, but then never returned it.
“You aren’t helping. And quit taking his side.”
“I’m on your side. Always. I’m just trying to come up with rational explanations for why he might be doing this.”
“Well, good luck withthat. There isn’t anything that is rational about him.” The door opens behind me and Hunter steps out on the balcony.
“Hey, Crystal, Hunter just got home, so I’m going to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“’Kay. Good luck. Love you.”
“Love you.” I disconnect the call and stand to greet Hunter.
He pulls me into his arms. “Mmm, you feel good after a long day.”
“I’m sorry you had a long day. Did you have a lot going on after we met?” I ask.
“I did.” He sits in the lounger and tries to pull me into his lap. My wine spills in the process.
“Oh dear, what a klutz I am,” he says. “Here, sit up and I’ll get a towel and some club soda.” He pushes me off him, and I stand unsteadily. It’s amazing what two plus glasses of wine will do to your equilibrium when all you’ve barely eaten all day.
“It’s fine, Hunter,” I tell him, my words slurring a bit. “It’s white wine and not much spilled. Sit with me. Let’s talk about your day.”
He leaves anyway to get a towel and some club soda, coming back and dabbing at my skirt until he’s satisfied. He takes my wine from me and sets it on the side table, then sits and pulls me back into his lap again. We stay like this for a few minutes.
It’s nice.
“How was your day, my queen?” he asks, still not having told me about his. He nuzzles my neck and breathes in deeply, his lips connecting with a sensitive spot behind my ear that never fails to excite me. I feel a stirring down in my belly. One of the best things about Hunter is the routine and dependability. When he’s in the mood, he starts by kissing the spot behind my ear. If I respond in kind, he keeps going. He’s a conscientious lover, always making sure I’m taken care of. And I’m attracted to him. Sex with us is good. It’s just not the fire and brimstone that I had with Pax. And I’m convinced that’s okay.
Not everything has to be so passionate that it’s chaotic and unpredictable. With Hunter, I know the position he favors: missionary so he can kiss me; and I know that if I don’t orgasm during, he will usually make sure I do after. There’s always enough foreplay to make sure I’m ready for him and the actual intercourse will last a solid two minutes, if not longer. He will bring me a washcloth to clean myself with after, and we’ll cuddle until one of us falls asleep.
It’s solid, reliable, good, and exactly what I need in my life. When all I’ve ever known is the roller coaster of uncertainty, Hunter takes me on a ride where I can see the twists and turns in plenty of time to prepare for them.
He reaches his hand around to cup my breast through my blouse, massaging my nipple with his thumb. I turn my head to the side to kiss him. He pecks my lips softly in return, then goes back to kissing my neck and shoulder blades. I reach behind me to fondle him through his slacks.
“Oh god, my queen, that feels so good. Let’s go inside?”
I run my palm down his length and back up again. “We could stay here,” I whisper.
“No, someone might see. I’d rather that not happen.”
I stand and take his hand to lead him to our room. He brings mine to his mouth and kisses each of my fingers as we go. When we step into our room, he removes my clothing, almost reverently, and lies me on the bed before disrobing himself and crawling between my legs. He’s inside me within seconds and groans his appreciation.
“You feel so good,” he moans.
I grasp his face and bring his lips to mine, kissing him hard.
Hunter lets me lead for a moment, then pulls his head away, his lips leaving mine somewhat reluctantly. “You okay?” He stops his thrusting while he asks.
“Yes. Why?”
“You seem a little different tonight is all.”
“How so?”
“That kiss. It was different. Harsh and angry.”
“I thought it was passionate,” I defend.
