For a second she thought the noise had come from her, and that she’d cried out her gratitude at the moment of truth. The cry came again though—definitely not a grateful, I-just-had-my-first-orgasm-in-half-a-year kind of cry. It was more of an aggrieved, some-loud-woman-just-woke-me-up kind of cry. She dragged her eyes open, and started to haul her still-quivering body out of the bed. Hunter’s hand landed on her shoulder and held her back. “Stay put. I’ll get her.” Before she had a chance to reply he was up, treating her to one last glimpse of his truly mouthwatering ass before pulling on a pair of black boxer briefs from the top of the neat stack of clean clothes she’d left on his dresser. He tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “Bet you’re sorry you did my laundry now.” With that smug comment, he strode out the door. Cocky son-of-a-gun. But apparently cocky worked for her, because she knew without looking she wore a stupid smile.
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