Irresistible Bonus Scene
Lauren and Hunter are both so incredibly confident yet flawed. And I had fun revisiting their hot push-and-pull dynamic in this steamy bonus scene.
This bonus scene takes place in chapter twenty of Irresistible. It may contain spoilers, so it’s recommended that you read Irresistible first.
This bonus scene takes place in chapter twenty of Irresistible.
“Hunter? Are you even listening?” Toby asked.
I glanced up from my phone, tapping the power button to darken the screen before sliding it into my pocket. “Of course, I’m listening.”
Lauren was in a meeting with a new client, and I was waiting to hear how it went. She’d been excited when we’d talked last night, and I was proud of her. Lately, she’d been getting more and more business. And while I had definitely referred some friends to her, she’d sealed the deals all on her own.
Toby leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg at the knee. “Then what’s your answer to Alan’s question?”
Question? What question? I wondered how much of the conversation I’d missed. Judging from the tight set to Toby’s jaw and his rigid posture—enough.
Toby sighed. “Alan wanted to hear your projections for the app.”
“Right.” I nodded. “Projections.”
That’s why I was sitting here, bored out of my mind, halfway across the country from the woman I loved. They wanted numbers, but my mind was consumed with a different sort of figure—Lauren’s. When I’d left for New York, I’d feared I’d lose all the progress I’d made. I’d worried that once I was out of sight, I’d be out of mind too. But I’d been wrong. In fact, I was now convinced she was determined to drive me crazy.
Her latest attempt—a striking black-and-white photograph, a play of light and shadow, the ultimate tease. I’d stared at the photo countless times since she’d sent it, even though the image was already burned into my mind. The way she arched her back, her tits offered up in a lacy black bra. The way her confidence and sensuality shone through the darkness like a beacon.
And the best part—I knew she’d taken it in our closet. Which meant…she hadn’t gone back to her place. She’d actually stayed. Stayed. Fuck me, if that wasn’t the best Christmas gift of all. I’d return all my presents if it meant I could keep her.
“Perhaps we should take a break,” Alan said, interrupting my thoughts.
It was then that I realized everyone’s eyes were on me, still waiting for an answer. A vein in Toby’s neck twitched, and I knew he was barely holding it together. I’d been distracted since I’d arrived, and I was beginning to wonder why I was even here. Work seemed…unimportant. But their curious gazes reminded me that I was here to do a job and that I had a staff of people relying on me.
“No.” I held up a hand. “It’s fine.” I rattled off a string of numbers, while giving my opinion on the viability of the app.
I’d been doing this long enough to predict when an app would take off and when it would flop. “In the end,” I continued, “It’s probably not worth our time.”
Alan looked crestfallen, but he quickly recovered. Meanwhile, Toby’s body had lost some of its rigidness, but I knew he was still pissed. I didn’t want to be here, and it was obvious.
“But music and meditation are so hot right now,” Alan said.
“That’s true. But the market is saturated, and this app lacks originality.”
My phone vibrated, and I wondered if it was Lauren. It was nearly nine here in New York, which meant it was almost six in LA. She’d be home from work soon.
“Anything else?” I stood, more than ready to be done.
Toby and Alan shook their heads, as did the rest of the staff.
“Great.” I moved toward the door, slipping my phone from my pocket.
I headed down the hall toward my office, grinning to myself as I read Lauren’s latest text.
Lauren: I got the client!
I typed out a response, trying to ignore the sound of approaching footsteps.
Me: Can’t wait to celebrate when I get home.
“Hey,” Alan called from behind me. “Hunter.”
“Yeah?” I asked, my attention glued to my phone. I’d hoped he’d take the hint, but he continued to follow me.
“Want to grab a drink? I know a—”
“I have plans.” I went over to the desk and powered down my computer.
“Oh.” Alan’s face fell, and I felt kind of bad for the guy. But then he perked back up. “Maybe I could join you.” He was new to the group, trying to find his place. And I was being an asshole.
“Be careful what you offer.” Toby appeared in the doorway, flashing a wicked grin.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alan asked.
“Seeing as we aren’t meeting clients, I assume Hunter’s plans include a woman…” Toby was silent, leaving Alan to infer the rest.
“Dude. How are you in town—what, one night?—and you’re already getting action?” Alan asked.
“Is it another model?” Toby asked, leaning against my desk. “Because you promised to hook me up.”
I shook my head. I grabbed my computer and shoved it in my bag before shrugging into my coat. “Nope.”
“But you are going to hook me up, right? I know you have a little black book,” Toby continued.
I chuckled. “A little black book? That’s so nineties.”
“Whatever. I know you have a roster of available women who will come any time you call. I mean, share the wealth, man.”
“You can have the whole damn book, for all I care.” I looped my scarf around my neck.
“I can?” He stared at me with a dazed look on his face. He seemed to have forgotten the fact that he was pissed with me.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “But really, where’s the fun in that? You should try to meet someone, make a connection.”
He shook his head as if to clear it. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my friend Hunter?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. Now, if you’ll excuse me—” I brushed past them, intent on the door. “I have plans.”
Toby crossed his arms over his chest. “Who is this woman? Does she have a magic pussy or something?”
“A magic pussy?” I shook my head, disgusted by his attitude. “I’ll tell you a little secret.” I leaned in. “There’s no such thing as a magic pussy, and that kind of attitude is degrading to women. You’re better than that, Toby.
“If you want to have amazing sex, you need to get to know your partner. And—” I held up my hand when he opened his mouth, no doubt to make another disparaging remark. “I don’t just mean in the bedroom.”
“Oh shit.” He brought his fist to his mouth. “You’re in love.”
“What I am, is late.” I checked him with my shoulder on the way out.
“Never thought I’d see the day the mighty Hunter Pruitt fell in love. We’ll see how long it lasts,” he called.
I didn’t dignify his comment with a response. Mostly because, if it were up to me, my relationship with Lauren would last.
I put his words out of my mind and headed for the elevator, texting my driver to let him know I was ready. Outside, the cold air swirled about me as I stepped over a pile of trash. Fucking New York. It was cold, noisy, and nothing like LA, except for the traffic. God, I wasn’t sure which was worse when it came to drivers and traffic—LA or New York.
The driver saw me approach and held the door open for me. “Good evening, Mr. Pruitt.”
“Good evening. I’d like to go to my hotel, please.”
I slid in the back seat, sliding my phone out of my pocket, eager to connect with Lauren. Toby was wrong. This would last—we would last.
There was already another text waiting.
Lauren: With whiskey?
I had to scroll back up to see my last text about celebrating her new client. And then my mind immediately went to the night I’d licked whiskey off her skin. It had never tasted so amazing, and my cock stirred at the memory.
Me: Fuck, baby. Are you trying to kill me?
Lauren: Who, moi?
Lauren: See what I did there? I can speak French.
Me: Oh yeah?
I knew she didn’t understand much French, at least not yet. But I also knew she loved when I spoke it to her.
Lauren : Je veux que tu me déshabilles.
I wasn’t even going to tease her for using Google Translate. She wanted me to undress her, and I wanted nothing more than to do just that. The phone beneath my fingers felt cold and hard compared to her warm, smooth skin. But separated by miles, it was my only choice, a poor substitute for being with her.
Me: What are you wearing?
Lauren: A button-down cream-colored blouse with a red skirt and red heels.
Me: Fuck me.
Lauren: Gladly.
I chuckled to myself, getting more into the moment, the conversation.
Lauren: What are you wearing?
Me: Navy suit. Red tie.
Lauren: Classic. I love a bold red.
Lauren: Though I would enjoy it more as a blindfold for you.
I groaned in response, loving the way her sexy mind worked.
“Sir,” the driver said from the front seat. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Everything’s fine,” I said, though my cock was pressing painfully against my zipper, aching for release.
I returned my attention to my phone, eager to resume our conversation.
Me: Who says I’d be the one blindfolded?
Lauren: Hey! This is my fantasy. Don’t you dare highjack it!
I grinned, pressing my hands down against my cock. Though the idea of Lauren blindfolding me was appealing, I’d rather look into her eyes. And I’d rather be in control. As always, she was testing me, pushing the limits. We both wanted control, but only one of us would win. Which was part of the fun, the allure.
Lauren: Call me.
I glanced out the window at the passing buildings, wondering what the fuck was taking so long. Red lights lined the street in front of us, a sea of yellow taxis and other cars.
Me: I’m in the car.
Lauren: You have a privacy divider, right?
I glanced around, frantic to locate the button to raise the screen to separate me from the driver. When I found it, I said, “I need to make a call.”
The driver met my eyes in the mirror and nodded. I hoped the divider was soundproof, but at this point, I wasn’t sure I cared. It would be at least twenty minutes before we got back to the hotel—more than enough time.
“Where are you?” I said into the phone.
“I just got home.” Riley was barking in the background. “Hey, girl,” she cooed, and I imagined Lauren leaning down to pet her.
“Hey, Riley,” I said.
“Give me a sec,” she said to me, and I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what she was doing. God, how I wished I were there. She was probably bending over in her sexy little skirt, pouring water into Riley’s bowl. Petting her fur. Flashing that sweet smile.
“Okay,” she said a moment later. “Where were we?”
“I believe I was about to strip you of your clothes and bind your wrists with my tie,” I said, having already decided how this was going to go.
“How can I touch you if my wrists are tied?” she teased, but there was a noticeable shift in her breathing. She was excited.
“Shh,” I said, wanting to play this out. “Take off your clothes and get in bed.”
“Not unless you unzip your pants and slide your hand inside,” she said, but I could hear shuffling in the background, which told me she was already undressing.
I did as she’d asked, then put the phone on speaker. “Done.”
“Now spit into your hand and pump yourself a few times.”
I had no problem following her instructions. I was already keyed up from talking to her—and from the image she’d sent—and I was more than willing to play along.
“Slide your hand over your breasts, keeping your touch light,” I said. “And don’t touch your nipples. Not until I give you permission.”
She took a shaky, shuddering breath that seemed to echo in the back of the town car. “Oops,” she said, feigning innocence. “I touched my nipples.”
“Naughty girl.” My voice was deep, dark. She loved to challenge me, both in and out of the bedroom. And I fucking loved it. “You must not want me to give you an orgasm.”
“You’re evil.”
I chuckled, closing my eyes and imagining her face as her voice echoed around me.
“Be careful,” she said. “Two can play at that game.”
“Oh yeah?” I taunted, squeezing the crown. “Why don’t you take over? Tell me what you’d do to me if you were here, in the back of the town car.”
“I’d take your cock in my mouth, licking you from base to tip.” I panted at her words, eager for more as I started pumping. “I’d suck you just like you like it, pulling you in deep.”
“Yes,” I hissed. “What else?”
“I’d lick and swirl my tongue around you, making you feel so good, until…”
“Until what?” I asked, hoping that wasn’t it. “Don’t stop.”
She laughed, the sound throaty and sexy as hell. “And then I’d straddle you.”
“Are you touching yourself?”
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Rub your clit, circle it like I would with my thumb.” I waited a moment. “Now dip one finger inside. Are you wet?”
“Yes.” She gulped. “So wet. I need you.”
She had no idea just how much I needed her—in this moment and always.
“Add another finger,” I said, pumping faster. “Imagine it’s my dick, and you’re straddling me in the back seat.”
I was imagining it. I could feel her raking her hands down my chest, making my body come alive.
“My lips would be on yours, my hands in your hair,” she said, and I could feel the excitement zinging between us, as if we were in the same car, not across the country.
“My mouth would be on your skin, sucking those gorgeous nipples into my mouth. Biting, licking, and squeezing your tits.”
“Fuck yes,” she said, low and long.
Even without seeing her, I knew she was getting close. I could hear it in her voice, hear the slight edge to her tone.
“Yes, baby. Yes,” I panted, reaching for my scarf. “And then I’d rub your clit with my thumb, taking you to the very edge. Are you almost there? Can you feel it? Can you feel my hands on your skin?”
We were both quiet, the sounds of our pleasure filling the car. It was one of the most erotic things I’d ever experienced, and I wasn’t even touching her.
“Yes.” It started out soft, but then as she chanted the word over and over, it got louder and longer. “God, Hunter. You feel so good.”
I bit my lips, squeezing my eyes shut as my body tensed. I covered myself with the scarf, finally exploding into the cashmere. I grunted out my release, then slumped against the seat.
“Fuck,” I panted. “Fuck, that felt good. Though, I’d rather be inside you.”
“Obviously,” she said, and I could imagine her grinning lazily. “How much longer until we can make that happen?”
“Oh…” I glanced at my phone. “Only three days, twelve hours, and six minutes.”
She barked out a laugh. “Wow. That’s oddly precise.”
“I made up the hours and minutes.” I finished cleaning up and tucked myself inside my pants. “But it feels like much longer.”
I expected her to tease me for making such a cheesy comment, but instead, she surprised me. “It does,” she said softly into the phone.
“You could’ve come with me. I offered.”
“Hunter, we already talked about this,” she chided. “Now, stop harshing my post-orgasmic buzz.”
“Fine. Fine. Just remember who gave you that orgasm.”
“Um, I’m pretty sure I was the one touching my clit.”
I growled at both the image and her words. “At my direction.” The car came to a stop. “I have to go. Call me before you go to bed?”
I wanted her voice to be the last thing I heard before I fell asleep. I wanted her in my arms, in my bed, in my life. If this trip to New York had shown me anything, it was that I did not want to be apart from her. And I vowed that when I returned to LA, I’d show Lauren exactly how much she meant to me.