Hale: A Single Dad Sports Romance (Hale Brothers)

Never, I repeat never, has there been a time I wasn’t able to walk after sex. There were days I felt a bit sore. Days when my legs were wobbly. I’ve experienced all that, and it never bothered me. It was something I could deal with. Until Hunter motherfucking Hale. The man knows how to fuck, how to make me pass out from pleasure.

Exiting my bedroom, I head to the kitchen. I’m wearing black leggings and a pastel pink tee, even if I felt tempted to put on something nicer. For him. Like it’s a date. Apparently, being fucked so good has the power to make me brainless. I can only imagine the look on Hunter’s face if he walked into the kitchen and saw me wearing my white floral dress. Our agreement would’ve ended right away, and I don’t want that. I’m enjoying my time with him way too much.

I hear footsteps, and Hunter joins me in the kitchen. I turn my head to look at him, letting my gaze travel down his form. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and his favorite gray sweatpants. His hair is still wet, and I instantly regret not joining him in the shower.

Are you out of your damn mind, Piper? You can barely fucking walk. Don’t even think about sex with him!

Great. Now even my inner voice is giving me orders.

I blink and focus my attention on him. “What should we eat?” I ask.

“You love pizza,” Hunter says softly, stepping closer and hovering over me. I nod, looking up at him. “I already ordered your favorite, with mushrooms, Parmesan, and oregano. It should be here soon.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. He saw me eat pizza once, and he heard me talking about my favorite toppings…only fucking once. What’s going on? “What did you order for yourself?”

“Pepperoni.” He shrugs, edging to the fridge and taking out the apple juice. He only has time to set it on the kitchen counter before the doorbell rings. “Must be our pizza.”

Ten minutes later, Hunter and I are sitting on the couch in the living room. Two pizza boxes are on the table, along with a glass of apple juice for Hunter and a glass of white wine for me. It feels so surreal, I want to pinch myself. What if this is all a dream and I’m still sleeping?

“What do you want to watch?” he asks, picking up the remote.

“I don’t know. The last few months, I’ve only been watching Disney with Story.”

Hunter chuckles, looking for something on the TV screen. I watch him, admiring every little detail of his face. He has a strong, sharp jawline and a straight nose. His lips are full, and I’ll be damned if I say I don’t enjoy kissing them. His usual stubble is shorter now, and there are freckles on his tanned skin. Which isn’t surprising because of all the time he spends under the sun. He’s fucking gorgeous, and his perfect body makes him absolutely unattainable. And yet…he’s here with me, eating pizza and serving me wine. I’m pleasantly surprised to see this side of him. Usually, he’s only like this with Story.

“Okay, we’re going to watch Lupin.” Hunter catches me staring at him. “Or you can continue watching me. Though I promise, this show is way better.”

“So far, you’ve yet to disappoint me,” I murmur, leaning forward and picking up my glass of wine. He keeps his gaze trained on me, smiling like the Cheshire cat, and then he focuses his attention on the TV screen.

And my ovaries are thankful…because it feels like I’m losing my mind when he’s around.

Two episodes later, I’m far from sober. This show is fantastic. Omar Sy makes it incredibly easy to fall in love with his character. His reactions are honest; I can feel every little emotion he’s showing. Add in a gripping plot, and this is a real cocktail recipe for a successful show. Speaking of cocktails…

“Mind pouring me some wine?” I focus on Hunter’s face as he starts the third episode. He glances at me and shakes his head. I knit my brows together. “Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing left in the bottle,” he snorts and pulls me closer, snaking a hand around my shoulders. “Plus, someone is already tipsy.”

“You don’t like me tipsy?” I ask, snuggling closer to him, not giving a damn about the wine or anything else.

“I like you tipsy when you’re here with me, because I know nothing bad will happen to you. But I’m not a fan of anyone getting drunk in public. There are way too many bad people with sick intentions.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” I purr, looking up at him. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I know how to stand up for myself. Mom’s string of boyfriends didn’t really leave me any choice.”

I don’t even realize what I’ve said till I see his eyes darken and his smile slowly dissolve. “Your mom’s string of boyfriends…did someone hurt you?”

“Hurt me?” I mumble.

“That’s what I asked.” His voice becomes chilly; his demand is noticeable. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No.” I push myself away from him, all my playfulness disappearing. “All that is just my past.”

“I’ve been taught that if you don’t want to talk about what traumatized you, it means you’re still holding on to the pain. It means you’re far from moving on. It means the trauma still has power over your life and your actions. It means you live in fear,” Hunter says harshly, and I feel angry tears form in my eyes. “Did someone hurt you, Piper?”

I take my phone from the couch and jump to my feet, grabbing my empty pizza box and wineglass from the table, and only then do I peer at him. “Thank you for dinner, Hunter.”

Whirling around, I storm to the kitchen. I want to be back in my room, to hide under my goddamn blanket and just stay there till it’s time to wake up. That, Piper Meadow Evans, is exactly what happens when you don’t watch your mouth.

The empty box lands in the trash can, and I put my phone on the counter. I only have time to set my glass in the sink before I hear his footsteps behind me. I tense up; my muscles are so tight it’s painful. Slowly, I lock eyes with Hunter. The sounds of the TV reach my ears, but it feels like I’m underwater.

I take a few steps forward, intending to leave the kitchen, but he blocks my way. His arms wrap around my waist, and before I know it, I’m sitting on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t let go of me, just holds me firmly in place and stares me right in the eyes.

“Don’t shut me out.”

“Don’t ask questions I don’t want to answer,” I counter, and I see the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. “No one hurt me, but my childhood was far from perfect. I’d prefer to forget about it.”

“I want you to open up to me because I think it’ll help you, not because I’m prying, Piper.”

“I know,” I sigh, as he glides his hands over my thighs.

“Then you should open up to me. Maybe not today, but at some point.”

My poor damn pussy…it’s fucking dripping already. Again. This man is dead set on sending me into orgasmic oblivion with his words and his care. There’s a very thin line between swooning and horny. I went from one to the other in a nanosecond.

“I will.” I grip his tee in my hands and help him take it off. Roaming my hands over his broad shoulders and sculpted chest, I feel his every muscle, and my nipples pucker. He’s so goddamn fine. “I want your cock inside me so much.”

“I need you at my game, Piper. I don’t want you to be in bed all day again,” he murmurs, sneaking his hands under my tee and cupping my breasts. “Fuck, baby, your tits feel so perfect.”

“Hunter…” I moan his name as his mouth lands on my neck, caressing it with his soft lips and his tongue. “Fuck me now. Please.”

He groans when I lock my legs around his back, pressing my drenched pussy to his groin. His nostrils flare as the remains of his resistance leave his body. In the blink of an eye, he steps back and yanks off my leggings. He tosses them aside and pulls me to my feet. I don’t ask questions, just let him take the lead, enjoying everything he’s doing to me.

Hunter turns me around and pushes me facedown onto the kitchen countertop, pressing his hard-on against my ass. He gets rid of his shorts, sheaths his cock in a condom, and a moment later, he’s deep inside me. I whimper, gripping the countertop. He’s still fucking huge, and I’m still fucking sore. But I’m here for it. One hundred percent. The pleasure he gives me makes it all better.

“I’ve been thinking about your sweet pussy all day…I was pretty sure you’d had enough of me for a while,” he growls, ramming into me from behind. “And look at you now—begging me to fuck you, bent over my fucking countertop, taking me fully…covering my dick with your juices…”

I close my eyes. The feeling of immense pleasure spreads through my veins and goes straight to my lower abdomen. Hunter grabs my hands and locks them behind my back with his hand. I stand on my tiptoes, because each time he slides deeper, I moan, unable to stand still. My hair falls in my eyes and sticks to my sweaty forehead. The sloppy sounds of our bodies joining together are the only thing I hear, and they make me a thousand times more sensitive. I’ll be coming in no time, and he knows it.

“You’re going to hold your orgasm, Piper.” His fingers dig into my skin as a loud growl leaves his lips. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” I’m breathless. My puckered nipples are rubbing against the kitchen counter, adding even more friction. My blurry vision makes it hard to concentrate.

The ringing of my phone comes so suddenly, we both freeze. I know that ringtone.

“It’s your brother,” I whisper.

“He probably knows you weren’t feeling well and wants to check on you.” Hunter slowly picks up the pace again, while my phone continues to buzz. Over and over and over.

“He won’t stop calling until I answer,” I mutter between two loud moans.

“Damn him.” Hunter curses and reaches over to my phone. I expect him to give it to me, but I’m wrong. He presses my phone to his ear and answers without pulling out of me for even a second.

“Hey, Hayden. Yeah, she wasn’t feeling well…Uh-huh…When Mom and Dad left, I went to check on her, and she was already asleep. Yeah…I decided not to wake her up…her presence doesn’t…dammit…”

Hunter growls, feeling my walls squeeze his dick. My body spasms, and I clamp a hand over my mouth. I just came, listening to my boss talking to my best friend on my fucking phone.

“Sorry, I’m watching the La Liga game…and it’s not good. Um, shit…her phone was in the kitchen…I heard it and decided to come…fuck!”

He slams his hips into mine at his own release, then continues pushing his length inside me, drawing out my orgasm.

“Sorry, Hayden…this game is fucking intense. I came into the kitchen, saw your phone number, and decided to answer…yeah, you can come over tomorrow morning. I’m sure she will be happy to see you…thanks, you too…bye.”

He ends the call and tosses my phone onto the kitchen counter, then pulls out. I slowly turn around. My legs are wobbly, and my breathing is ragged.

“I don’t remember telling you that you could come,” he lectures me.

“You were too busy talking to your brother,” I sass back, and he narrows his eyes. I’m playing a dangerous game…but I’m loving every second of it.

Hunter invades my personal space and puts his palm on my throat. He brings his lips to mine, and I feel my pussy twitch.

“Get your clothes. Go to your bedroom and wait for me on your fucking bed…with your legs spread wide and your fingers playing with your clit. I’m going to lick you dry, Piper.” He slaps my tit, and I yelp, hissing between my teeth. “You have ten minutes.”

He lets go of me and steps back. I bend down to take my clothes from the floor, and he slaps my ass hard. “For motivation.”

“Asshole,” I mutter and stomp out of the kitchen. The only thing I want is to be exactly where he told me to be: on my bed, with his head between my legs. He’s my fucking addiction.