Finding Autumn (3 page)

“I don’t understand.” He shakes his head, waiting on me with an expectant stare.

I breathe out a sigh, a puff of air hitting his cheek. “I’m an author, too. I write,” I pause, my teeth digging into my lip, “erotic romance novels.”

He arches a brow, a hint of a smile curling his lips. “Erotic? Now you’ve got my attention.” He extends his hand, his fingers dancing lightly over my neck. “And now I know you’ve got a wild imagination. Tell me more.”

My lips feel dry, my tongue sneaking out to wet them. “I’d rather show you,” I tease seductively, feeling incredibly bold for the first time in forever. I place my hand over the bulge of his crotch, rubbing firmly, and he sucks in a rough breath. He’s rock hard under my touch, the ache between my legs starting up again. I’m dying to feel his cock buried inside of me.

He takes me by surprise, lifting me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. I glance around quickly, but it’s fairly dark, and there’s no one else in the car anyway. It feels so forbidden and I’m aroused beyond belief.

His hand comes around to the back of my neck, drawing me in, and against my lips, he murmurs, “Do you have any idea how badly I want to fuck you? Ram my cock deep inside your pussy, in… and… out, in… and… out,” he drags the last words out, driving me insane, “until you’re screaming my name. Until you’re so wet you can’t see straight.”

I can barely see straight now.

He cups my ass, moving me back and forth over his erection, wetness seeping through my panties. He removes one of his hands, slipping it under my blouse and squeezing my breast, thumbing my puckered nipple through my bra. “I want to slide my cock between your tits, come all over your nipples,” he whispers, and a breathy moan tumbles from my lips.

I let my head fall back as he continues playing with my breast, showering my throat with wet kisses. If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to come all over his lap.

“Hunter…,” I breathe on a jagged moan.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he rasps, and I sense he’s on the verge of losing it, too.

“I need—”

“Boston Station,” the conductor’s voice calls outs over the speaker, “Boston Station.”

“Shit,” I squeak out, scooting off his lap before the lights flicker on. He laughs and of course, I start giggling, too. When I’m finally able to control myself, I glance up to find darkened pupils staring back at me.

“Where are you staying in Boston?”

My throat feels parched, the words barely making it to their destination. “At the Marriott, you?”

“I’m staying at my brother’s. He lives right near Faneuil Hall, so it’s not far from there.”

Oh.

I adjust my blouse and smooth my skirt while he reaches up, takes our suitcases down from the overhead rack, and then ushers me out before him. Placing a hand on the small of my back, he guides me toward the doors, until we step over the threshold of the train. “So, I’m wondering something?” he questions, and there’s a nervous twinge in his voice. We walk side by side through the station as I wait for him to continue. “What are the chances I can come back to your hotel room tonight? I mean, I don’t want to assume—”

I cut him off, already knowing my answer, not wanting to be alone. But it’s more than that. I actually like him. “I’d say the chances are pretty darn good,” I return, and the beaming smile covering his face at my response nearly takes my breath away. “Although,” I ponder, “I hardly know you. You could be some kind of a serial killer whose mother is a romance novelist.”

“I’ve got some advice for you,” he voices thoughtfully, hauling our suitcases behind him. “Don’t change your profession to detective work. Stick to writing erotic novels.”

I shoot him a crisp stare. “Well, at least we’ll be at the hotel so people will hear me scream.”

“Oh, I fully intend to make you scream, sweetheart,” he insinuates, grinning, “you just won’t be in pain when I do.”

“Ah, so he has a sense of humor, I’m discovering,” I quip, finding myself smiling and having no idea why.

“Some might say.” He winks at me, the edge of his mouth tipped up in a lopsided grin.

We continue to tunnel our way through flocks of people scurrying to get to their destinations, veering toward the taxi area. He hoists our suitcases up the stairs before pushing open the double doors leading to street level. It’s spring, so there’s a chill in the night air, a smattering of stars illuminating the landscape. I peer up at the sky with a smile. This is my favorite time of year.

Hunter flags a taxi, holding the door open so I can climb inside, and he follows. He settles in next to me, placing a hand on my thigh. My insides bubble with anticipation, my heart pounding. I can’t wait to be alone with him. And while the logical part of me says that this is complete insanity and I barely know him, the pent-up side is telling me something entirely different. This is my chance and I won’t let it pass me by.

I nonchalantly peek up at him, quickly snapping my gaze away when he catches me staring. Shadows from passing cars cast a glow on his handsome face: those chestnut-colored eyes, that strong jaw, his perfectly curved lips. My thoughts travel there, daydreaming about them roaming my neck, my breasts, my hips, my—

“A penny for your thoughts?”

I can’t look at him now. My face betrays me, thoughts spilling from my eyes. Averting my attention to the scenery beyond the window, I press my head to the glass. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” he concedes, thankfully without interrogating me any further.

Chapter Three

~Olivia~

Everything outside the window is one big blur, an array of lights and colors blending together as we drive to the hotel. It’s hard to see where one thing ends and another begins. My head is swimming with excitement, stomach filled with butterflies. It makes no sense after everything we did on the train, I shouldn’t be nervous, yet I am. He made me feel so good and I crave more. But my body is now making demands that my brain can’t rationalize. I’m going to have to find a way to shut it off so I don’t destroy this before it even gets started.

By the time we get to the hotel, the need for air is overwhelming. My thoughts are suffocating, not letting me take even one breath. Apparently, I’m not hiding it all that well.

“Hey.” Hunter touches my shoulder gently, stopping me as we’re walking into the hotel, a glint of sincerity in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I answer a little too quickly, staring past him as I speak.

“Listen, don’t overthink, okay? And,” he adds, “if you don’t want me to come up, I can just head over to my brother’s, it’s fine….” His words trail off at the end, a trace of disappointment diluting them.

“No.” I flash him a coy smile. “I really want you to come up,” I reply, attempting to sound enthusiastic. I want to make it clear that it’s not him, it’s me, even though that’s the oldest line in the book.

The interior of the hotel is ultra-modern and reminiscent of my penthouse in Manhattan, instantly putting me at ease. Abstract paintings line the walls, high-back leather sofas in taupe sit off to the center, red leather ottomans serve as tables in between. A variety of contemporary black leather chairs are scattered throughout the room.

We stroll to the front desk and wait for the keycard, my teeth fastened to my lip, eyes darting around the lobby. Hunter reaches over and tugs my lip free.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he comments, leaning against the counter, his legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his chest.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do. And I’m going to ask you again. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Guilt keeps me at a distance when all I want to do is reassure him, show him this is what I really want. “Yes.” I twine our fingers together briefly before pulling away. “I’m sure,” I admit again, and he lets out a relaxed smile.

He lifts both our suitcases off the ground as we head toward the elevators. One bank is opening just as we arrive and we step on after allowing three other people to exit. For some reason, I choose to stand as far away from him as possible, but it doesn’t change the air, weighted down with sexual tension.

“I can’t wait to get you alone, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice oozing sex, and I practically come apart in the elevator. My skin grows warm as he continues undressing me with his eyes, my wobbly knees threatening to collapse beneath me.

Thankfully, the car dings and I walk off quickly, hearing his footsteps following close behind. I feel his breath on my neck as I insert the keycard into the slot, my pulse racing in anticipation. Every hair is standing on end. Once that door closes, I’ll never be the same again.

Hunter holds the door open for me. Upon entering, the first thing I notice is the dim lighting, a small table lamp beside the king-sized bed the only illumination. The lock clicks on the door, the sound echoing thunderously in my ears, the walls closing in. I swallow loudly, a gulp that could probably be heard around the world.

I watch him walk to the table, dropping his keys and wallet, before stalking over to me. He drips sex appeal. Low-slung jeans grip his trim waist, a white t-shirt clings to spectacular muscles that ripple as he makes his way toward me. He runs a hand through his thick, lush hair before stepping in front of me with a lascivious grin.

“Do you have anyone you need to call?” he prompts, while shifting my purse strap from my shoulder, setting it on the ground. “To let them know you arrived safely?”

“Actually, yes, I do.” The words come out in a rush, almost as if I’m trying to run away from him, from this, or maybe from myself.

Who the hell knows?

He stares at me attentively, taking a lock of my hair between his fingers, twirling it around. “Why don’t you go ahead and do that, get it out of the way.”

“Good idea.” I duck around him, snatching my purse from the carpet, hunting for my phone. I unlock the screen and dial Vanessa’s cell.

She picks up on the fourth ring, loud music blaring in the background. “Hey, Liv. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” I accuse, infuriated. “Why don’t you tell
me
what’s up? Are you having a party at my place?”

“No. Chill out, Liv. You know I wouldn’t do that. I’m exercising and Charlie’s supervising, that’s all,” she protests, as Hunter struts over, coming to stand in front of me. His gaze caresses me as he leans forward and one by one begins popping buttons on my blouse, layering open-mouth kisses to my chest. My eyes close momentarily; his lips feel like heaven against my skin.

“Okay. So how’s Charlie?” I sputter, my heartbeat skyrocketing, the change in my breathing audible.

“He’s great. Hey, you okay? You sound weird.”

“Tell her you have to go now,” Hunter prods, his tone low, whisking the fabric of my blouse away, a soft thud resounding when it lands on the carpet.

“I’m fine. I-I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Thanks again.” I hang up the phone without saying goodbye. Hunter takes it from my hand and throws it back in my purse. I’m wearing only my black lace bra and skirt now, and he’s circling me like a tiger ready to pounce on its prey. He skims kisses from one shoulder blade to the other, his hands following his lips, and I’m already whimpering.

When he’s finally in front of me again, he removes my glasses, placing them on the table. “These glasses hide your eyes, and they’re stunning. A fiery sea of blue. Are you
fiery
, Autumn?” he asks, his voice so smooth that I’m practically melting with lust. “Because I think you want to be, I think you
are
. You’re just afraid. You can let it out with me. I want you to. I want you to let it out all over me,” he seduces, and my lips part on a silent breath. “I saw her on the train,” he murmurs, pushing a ribbon of hair over my bare shoulder, “where did she go? Let her out.” His lips rest above my ear. “Set her free.”

I take my bottom lip between my teeth, warring with my desires. He shakes his head in disapproval, moving even closer, swallowing the space between us.

“Let me do that,” he urges, before framing my face with his hands, sucking at my bottom lip, dragging it into his mouth. His words, his alluring scent, the feel of his lips on mine, are driving me into a sensual frenzy and I snap, weaving my fingers through his hair, guiding him closer. I lick at his upper lip before our tongues collide, wrapped around one another in a heated kiss, lapping at each other, exploring, tasting.

We’re a flurry of tongues and lips as my hands wander down his back, slipping under his t-shirt, his smooth skin furthering my need to have him bare against me. He groans into my mouth as I continue my descent, my fingers sneaking under the waistband of his boxers while he grinds into me, the friction of his hard cock rubbing against my pussy intensifying the dampness between my thighs.

He slows our kiss, panting when he finally breaks away. “Turn around, sweetheart.” And I’m so dizzy with want that I quickly oblige. I’d do anything for him right now. All he has to do is say the word. His fingers fumble with the hook on my bra until it loosens, sliding over my shoulders, falling away. He snakes his arms around me from behind, hands cupping my breasts, thumbs flicking my nipples until they’re tight nubs. “Christ, Autumn, your tits… Jesus.”

“Mmmm, that feels good,” I moan, leaning my head back against his shoulder, pushing myself further into his hands. His mouth dances up my neck, licking and biting, his cock rubbing against my ass. The pleasure is overwhelming, pushing everything else from my mind. All my apprehension, all my worries, are floating away like a piece of driftwood on the ocean, the tide carrying them out to sea.

“Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to fuck you on the train?” he growls, and the way he talks impassions me beyond comprehension. The only men who speak like that are the ones in my novels. It’s a thousand times better in real life, evidenced by the fact that my panties are now worthless, completely covered in my own arousal.

His hands leave my breasts abruptly, spinning me around to face him before he sinks to his knees. He reaches around to tug on my zipper, my skirt dropping to the floor, leaving me exposed and breathless. Grabbing my thighs, he pulls me closer, scattering wet kisses across my belly, then inching lower, inhaling my sex. He looks up at me, a sexy-as-hell smile gracing his lips. “I love the smell of your pussy,” he mutters hoarsely. “I don’t remember the last time anyone made me this hard. You’ve been driving me crazy and now I intend to do the same to you. Lie down, Autumn,” he commands, and I won’t deny that I like the demanding tone of his voice.