Page 46 of Hot Shot
“It’s a furnished short-term rental. I didn’t pick the furniture. If I had, I would not have picked that couch,” Hunter says. “Let’s go sit in the kitchen.” He gestures for me to follow him deeper into his apartment.
A short-term rental?That makes more sense but leaves me with more unanswered questions. Why is he still living in temporary housing?
He sets our food on the table and tells me to make myself comfortable. I decide to sit on the side of the table that faces the rest of the kitchen, my back to the living room we just walked through.
“Is water good?” Hunter asks, standing in front of the fridge with two glasses in his hand.
“Perfect.”
While he gets our drinks I pull our tacos, chips, and salsa out of the bag. My mouth waters as the smell of the lime and cilantro mixed with warm tortillas hits my nose. I sure hope it’s as good as it smells.
“Short-term rental?” I ask before taking a sip of water as Hunter joins me at the table.
He pulls his tacos out of the bag and peels back the wrapper on one. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be here.”
“I thought you had a contract.” I fiddle with the paper around my tacos.
“I do, but it’s only a one-year contract. The Storm could decide they want to reassign me to the Mustangs, who aren’t local.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. I know that Hunter was a rookie and that sometimes teams send players down to the AHL but I guess I just assumed that Hunter was here to stay.
What happens if he has to leave? We’re just getting to know each other. I like spending time with him. I push those thoughts aside and take a bite of my taco, moaning as I do.Holy shit this is good.
“Don’t do that,” Hunter growls.
“Do what?” I ask.
He leans closer to me, his voice low. “Moan like that. I know we’re friends, but it does things to me, Madison, when you do that.”
My taco suddenly becomes very interesting and I hope like hell I’m not blushing.
“Sorry,” I mumble before going back to my food. Keeping my sounds to myself.
He nods and starts to eat his own lunch.
“I’m stuffed,” I say a few minutes later, leaning back in my seat and surveying my empty wrappers.
Hunter pops the last chip into his mouth, and I can’t help but watch, mesmerized, as his tongue slips out, licking the last of the salt from his lips.
What would it feel like to have that tongue and those lips all over me?I start to blush at the thought.
“What are you thinking?” Hunter asks, cocking his head at me.
“Nothing,” I mumble, picking up my glass and draining it. Hoping the cold water will cool me off. Or at least distract me from the thoughts I’m having about him
“Madison.” He levels me with a look but before he can say anything else, I’m out of my seat.
“I need more water,” I rasp out, my throat suddenly dry even though I just drank half a glass of water.
I feel his gaze on me as I head over to the sink and fill my glass. I take a drink, keeping my back to him. I hear the scrape of his chair on the hardwood floor, but before I can move away, he’s behind me.
The heat from his body radiates over me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, but now all I smell is him, a mix of cedar and pine.
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “What’s going on, Madison?” His warm breath sends shivers down my spine.
I don’t answer.
I can’t form words right now.
