right on cue.
Hunter was consumed with remorse. “Hey, there, fellah.” His hand joined hers on the dog's belly, rubbing. “Will he be all right?”
With all the attention, Benny was in puppy heaven and trying hard not to show it, while the man leaning over him had an expression of concern which only comes from an owner of a beloved pet. May smiled inwardly. Hunter was as good as gotten.
“Yes, but you shouldn't keep tossing him food; he probably can't eat so many strange combinations.”
Hunter nodded, continuing to rub the dog's stomach with her. Every now and then their hands brushed against each other.
“How come you didn't do this for me when I had a tummy ache?” Hunter murmured next to her ear.
“Because you don't keep my feet warm at night,” she replied without thinking.
May realized her mistake as soon as she saw those dark lashes lift languorously and those silvery eyes met her own.
There was such a frankly sexual look in them that her breath stopped in her throat.
“I'd be happy to keep you warm at night.”
He did it. He spoke in a husky murmur.
And it sounded exactly the way she had imagined a perfectly executed husky murmur would sound. It even sent shivers down her spine.
He leaned toward her just a bit, and May knew he was going to kiss her. Instinctively she moved her head back a few inches.
His hand came over hers on top of Benny.
His other hand cupped the back of her neck, bringing her up against his descending mouth in a seamless move. She opened her mouth to attempt to object, but Hunter was already there.
His lips covered hers in a gentle press that was somehow persuasive at the same time. The tender act turned May into.… a bowl of mush.
Her mouth softened beneath his, returning his kiss.
Like any red-blooded man, Hunter took this as encouragement. He went from softly coaxing to “seize-the-moment fire” in the blink of an eye.
May gasped. What were they doing? She began to pull back.
“Hunter, stop!” She tried to speak between the molten imprint of his ongoing kisses. It was almost impossible; the man was definitely charged up.
“We shouldn't be doing this,” she managed to croak just before he swept inside her mouth, staking a devastating claim. She moaned in response.
“Why not?” he whispered a few seconds later, not stopping in the least.
The question had been rhetorical, but May attempted to respond any way. “Be-because… you're only doing this because you're hungry! You're substituting—”
He chuckled, a low rumble against her lips. “I'm hungry all right.” His mouth moved along her jawline to her throat.
May sucked in her breath. That was a very sensitive area. She closed her eyes, desperately trying again. “You see? You admitted it. You've been complaining how starving—”
He stopped. Raising his head, he looked at her, desire and something akin to amusement lighting his features.
With his lips a mere heartbeat away from hers, he purred, “I'm hungry for May.”
Then his mouth seized hers and that was the end of that objection.
How did the man kiss like that? May was devastated and knew it. Especially since her toes were wiggling like mad under the hem of her nightgown.
His lips moved back to her throat, and May actually arched her throat to give him better access.
Hunter breathed in her flowery scent and went as hard as a brick.
Earlier, in the bathroom, he had opened her jar of floral scented cream and had inhaled deeply. It had not had the same effect on him and he realized that it needed the added factor of May. Her personal, sexy scent which had been driving him crazy since that first night.
His mouth closed over the spot of tender skin under her ear and he felt her tremble. She was responding to him.
“ Hunter … ” It was the sound of a woman in the throes of desire; however, there was the faintest hint of underlying protest.
He did not want her to stop him. Not now. Not ever. C. Hunter Douglas wanted May
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