Page 45 of Gym With Benefits

“I’m a paying member of this facility, and I’m being treated like a piece of meat by a guy who looks like he eats charcoal for breakfast. I swear to God, if management doesn't strip his pass, I'm going to find out where he lives and—”

And… nothing.

Because Hunter’s mouth was on mine and there were no more words to say. No more thoughts to think, except, oh, my fucking God.

He’d lunged forward, cupping my face in both hands as he slammed his mouth against mine and pushed me back at the same time. Until he had me pinned against the far wall. His broad chest. The bulge in his pants. And the relentless sweep of his tongue. All cutting off the air to my lungs.

It was a total, brain-melting erasure of the universe and everything in it. There was no hesitation, no gentle testing of the waters. He’d been keeping a lid on this since we’d first met, and now the constraints had disintegrated. His lips were warm, soft but firm, crushing me with an intensity that made my toes curl.

A startled gasp broke from the back of my throat, and Hunter instantly weaponized it. His tongue slid past my teeth with a smooth authority that made my knees turn into jelly.

He tasted like mint and strawberry, a potent combination that filled my mouth and scrambled my internal processing. His tongue was deep, demanding, tracing the roof of my mouth with languid strokes that sent a jolt of liquid heat straight between my thighs.

My entire defense system went dark. Up until two seconds ago, the logistics of my love life had been neatly filed underBrock. Brock was a known variable. He was substantial, straightforward, and we had already navigated the mechanics of crossing a line.

Hunter had been a theoretical possibility, a question mark I wasn't sure I had the capacity to answer.

But with his mouth working over mine like he wanted to swallow me whole, the filing system collapsed into nothing.

My fingers tangled into the short, thick hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until there wasn't a breath of space between our bodies. His chest was a solid, pounding wall against my breasts, his heartbeat racing in perfect, chaotic sync with mine. He let out a thick sound against my mouth, a vibration that rolled across my tongue and made my stomach drop in a spectacular, dizzying loop.

His hands slid from my face, down my body, his fingers digging into the flesh of my waist. Gripping hard enough to leave marks, his thumbs pressed into my hips to hoist me up, tilting my pelvis until my core met the hard, unmistakable ridge rising in his pants. The friction of the contact through our layers was agonizingly good, an electric connection that made me arch against him.

He broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, his lips dragging down my jaw to the soft skin right below my ear. His hot breathscoured my neck, his teeth nipping at the tendon there until I flinched with pleasure, my head falling back against the wall.

“Jess,” he breathed against my skin, his voice ruined, stripped of all its usual calm stability. “You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this.”

His palms slid up the bare skin of my ribs, his fingers rough and hot against my skin as he pushed beneath my crop top. The contrast between the cold drywall behind me and the white-hot heat of his hands was a visceral shock, a move that left no room for doubt. We were doing this. This was happening. Screw the filing system and screw hesitation.

Things looked completely different now. The neat, orderly boxes of my life were wide open, and the contents were pouring out onto the floor.

Hunter tore his mouth from mine, the sudden vacuum of his absence leaving my lips tingling and cold. He backed away a full foot, his palms dropping from my ribs, though his chest heaved in shallow, erratic bursts.

I blinked through the haze, my spine plastering itself harder against the drywall as a cold prickle of insecurity hit my chest. “Wh—did I do something wrong?”

His gaze raked hungrily over my body, tracing the hem of my bunched-up crop top down to the tight expanse of my gym leggings. The professional, composed counselor from earlier was nowhere to be found.

He shook his head, a dark strand of hair falling across his brow. “I just wanted to look at you. I... this is what you want?”

I nodded, breathless, keeping my shoulders pinned to the wall because my knees felt like overcooked spaghetti. If I tried to step forward, I’d collapse into a heap of uncataloged anxiety right at his feet.

Hunter closed the distance again, his warmth cutting off the chill of the room. “What do you want, Jess?”

I bit my lower lip, my gaze dropping to his mouth, then up to the dark, blown-out centers of his eyes. I beckoned him with a slight tilt of my chin, a silent demand for him to stop analyzing and start executing.

He moved an inch closer, his breath fanning my nose. “You want me to touch you?”

A small whimper escaped my throat, followed by a stiff nod. “You know I do.”

He stood close enough now that the heat of his torso reached right through my clothes. He cupped my jaw, his skin rough against my cheek. “Like this?”

I said nothing, my throat too tight to generate anything coherent.

Hunter searched my face, his eyes reading the micro-movements of my expression with an intensity that made the room disappear. “More?”

I arched off the wall, tilting my pelvis forward as I pressed my breasts flush against his chest, the contact sending a spark of arousal curling around my already swollen clit. “God, yes.”

He trembled against me, the effort of his restraint visible in the taut line of his neck. The thick bulge in his track pants rubbed directly against my inner thigh with every shallow breath he took. “Where do you want me to touch you?”