Hunter sat me on the single bed and I could make out the glow of his eyes through the light.
This is going to be incredible, I thought, reaching up to pull him toward me but instead of a tender, exploratory kiss, his mouth smashed down on mine like a press and his breaths exploded over my face, almost suffocating me.
“Woah,” I giggled, pulling back and he grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he chuckled, moving back in to kiss my face. “You’ve just got me so hot. I can’t help myself.”
His hands roamed over my body without rhyme or reason, his fingers somehow weaseling in under my bra to pinch my nipples and I was thrust back into high school. Suddenly, he wasn’t Hunter Davis, man of my dreams. He was some awkward senior at prom who’d never popped his cherry.
His kisses were sloppy, running down against my neck and I grimaced as he rushed to disrobe me.
He’s just nervous, I told myself. He’ll slow down in a minute.
But I was wrong and in seconds, we were naked as he dropped kisses like hand grenades over my body.
Perhaps perpetuated by my desire to finally sleep with this man who had been the object of my affections for so long, my center was damp and somewhat ready for him but I had certainly expected more foreplay than the nibble he gave my breasts before spreading my legs apart and positioning himself between my thighs. With a single swipe of his fingers between my legs, he grinned at me and I had to wonder if he was drunk. It was the only reason I could imagine he was so bad at this.
I found myself wondering what to do with my hands and uneasily, I grabbed his shoulders as he entered me.
Oh. Is that it?
It was stunning to me that he wasn’t better endowed but in spite of all this, in spite of the fact that I was already disappointed, I still gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“God, you’re so wet!” he panted into my ear, his words escaping in grunts as he plunged into me without any choreography. “You like that?”
“Mmhm,” I managed, sliding my ass upward to feel him deeper but his actions were so sporadic, so choppy, all I did was put myself in an uncomfortable position, my hip grinding into the thin mattress.
“You gonna cum for me?” he moaned and as he spoke, I could feel his shaft growing harder.
Not a chance in hell, I thought.
“I already did,” I lied although how he couldn’t have known I was blowing smoke was beyond me.
It wasn’t until after he released, ten seconds later, that I realized he didn’t really care if I’d cum or not and he slid off me with a massive grunt, his body shaking as if he’d done something of great value.
Wow. That was awful.
“That was incredible,” he rasped, turning his head to grin at me. “You’re amazing.”
I had to look away, certain that even in the dark, my dubiousness would shine through on my pale skin. Instantly, the optimist in me tried to make light of the catastrophe.
I am really glad I didn’t spend a month waiting for that. Speaking of anticlimaxes…
I waited for what I thought was an appropriate amount of time before slipping my legs over the side of the bed.
“Where are you going?” he asked. “Give me a minute and we can go for round two.”
Ugh. Had there even been a round one? Not for me.
I forced a grin and shook my head.
“I’m too tense,” I told him. “I keep thinking that Amanda is going to wake up.”
“She won’t,” he promised. “And I can give you a massage if you’re tense.”
I shook my head with vehemence.
“No,” I insisted. “I should get back to work for a bit and get some rest. I have to collect samples tomorrow.”
I could almost feel his eyes narrow in the darkness but I was too busy locating my clothes to address him.
“Good night,” I said brightly, sneaking out of his room.
I stifled a groan before turning back toward him.
“Are we good?”
I smiled briefly.
“Of course we are,” I said with forced cheer. We were, after all. It was just a one-night stand and we were adults.
Adults who work together, I reminded myself, cringing. How stupid was I to have slept with a co-worker on a work trip? I was going to be stuck looking at him every day without avoidance.
Too late for regrets now. What’s done is done. Moving on…
“Is there something else, Hunter?” I asked, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice as he remained silent. His eyes met mine and he shook his head.
“No,” he muttered and I felt a stab of guilt touch my gut. He wasn’t a bad guy—he was just terrible in bed. Not really his fault but also not my project. At least now I knew. No harm, no foul.