20 Questions

Chapter 105

Hunter

You know what's better than morning sex?

Morning sex after sleeping like a baby all night long.

I have managed to successfully not die from a head bleed or concussion and Jenna went the entire night without a nightmare. Per usual, she was right. This time about not having nightmares if I held her all night long. She likes being told she's always right and I like sex from telling her she's always right so it's really a win-win for everyone. It doesn't matter that I woke up this morning blazing hot and completely saturated with our sweat, it's a small price to pay to have her rest peacefully. Plus, once I sunk my dick into her, it was hotter than Satan's butthole after that. I need to pace myself so she's not sore for the honeymoon. She's been online all morning looking for excursions to take in Hawaii. However, the only excursion I want to take is in between her legs...all day...every day.

"I'm going to sedate you," she joked when I told her my plan.

At least I think she was joking. I may need to keep a close eye on all my beverages.

"Are you ready for your big slumber party tonight with the girls?" I ask her before shoving a heaping spoonful of Cocoa Puffs in my mouth. It's her favorite cereal and I have taken a quick liking to it myself.

"I sure am," she smiles before waltzing around the kitchen table in a little pink nightie like a fucking wet dream.

I prop my elbows on the table, flame my fingers around my chin and look to her with big doe eyes. In my best preppy girl voice, I ask her, "So are you girls going to...like...braid each other's hair and paint each other's nails while you dance in feather boas to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun while watching The Notebook?"

"There's something very wrong with you," she laughs, walking over to pinch my cheeks. "And no, we won't have time for all that." Her face goes very matter of fact. "The girls paid a lot of money for the male strippers and we want to get our money's worth."

She spins the chair around and starts mimicking a stripper humping a chair. I don't know if I am more pissed off at the idea of strippers there or turned on from watching her thrust her hips.

"You all are having strippers come over?" I ask, masking my tone with shock, but deep down I am seething.

"Of course, it's a bachelorette party. You guys aren't having strippers?"

"No," I spit, no longer able to control my anger. I've seen Magic Mike (as embarrassing as that is to admit) and I've seen how handsy they get with the bride-to-be. The thought of some dirty douchebag stripper touching her is making my blood boil. "We are just hanging out around the pool and playing cards. I specifically told the guys not to get strippers because I knew it would piss you off."

I shove my chair away from the table and stomp into the kitchen to put my bowl in the dishwasher like the mature, level-headed man I am. I have my back to her and as I pick up my phone to call Helen and tell her to cancel the fucking strippers, laughter explodes behind me.

"What?" I yell, mad as hell.

"You should see your face right now. If looks could kill. There's no strippers, Hunter. I'm fucking with you."

She continues to laugh at my scowling like it's the funniest thing she's ever seen and although the vise around my chest has loosened, her amusement is not appreciated in any way, shape or form.

"You're not funny," I tell her, suppressing a smile.

"I'm a little funny," she says, repeating the phrase I've used on her many times before.