Lip Service Excerpt



“Hunter, baby, you up? Breakfast is almost ready.”

Shit, I think as my eyes flash open.

I stare up at the ceiling and listen to the sounds coming from my kitchen. Female humming. Cabinets opening and closing. Dishes rattling. To my left, sunlight peeks through the shades. I fumble for my phone, check the time, then mentally curse again. Viciously. Not only because I overslept, but because I’m pissed as hell at myself.


“Yeah,” I finally call out. “Coming.”

I throw back the covers, get out of bed, pull on a pair of sweats, then splash cold water on my face. Arms braced on the counter, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and curl my lip in disgust.

“You stupid bastard,” I mutter.

Exhausted from a string of eighty-hour work weeks and too much to drink, I’d apparently done something I haven’t done in ten years—fallen asleep immediately after having sex with a woman.

The same woman who was now frying bacon by the smell of things.

The same woman whose name I can’t seem to remember.

I’d met her at Gatsby’s last night and taken her home with me, another rarity. Usually I prefer going to a woman’s place so I can make an easy escape, but she’d been visiting from out of town and had been curious about where I lived. Getting a hotel room had seemed like too much trouble and before I knew it, here we were. She’d been good with her hands at the club, even better in bed. Wild and crazy in the sheets.

But I still can’t remember her name.

When I walk into the kitchen, the pretty blonde looks up and offers me a warm, beautiful smile. If I was anyone else, if I wasn’t Hunter fucking Kiss, the smile would probably melt my heart.

But I am Hunter Kiss and I don’t have time for this shit.

I notice she’s wearing my grey cashmere robe, the one that normally hangs on the back of my bathroom door. That annoys me. When I see my laptop where I left it on the kitchen counter, however—with the screensaver activated, telling me she’d tried to access my files—any notion I had of politely eating breakfast with her before nudging her out the door vanishes.

“Good morning,” she purrs. “You hungry? I thought we could eat and then spend the day together.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

She frowns. “Sorry?”

“My screensaver is still on.” I raise my brows, but I don’t lay into her as much as I should. Yeah, she was nosey, but it wasn’t her fault I’d fallen asleep even after I’d made it clear last night I wasn’t looking for anything more than mutual gratification. Talk about giving a lady mixed signals. Still, I want her gone. “Listen, last night was great, but I’ve got to get to work. The café next door has amazing pancakes.”

Her mouth open and closes. Her face turns red. Finally, her eyes narrow. “You’re a dick.”

I contemplate her words and shrug. I’m not trying to be even more of an ass; she just happens to be right. “Which is why you really wouldn’t want to spend more time with me than you have to,” I say softly.

“Fuck you,” she scoffs as she rounds the counter and passes by me to stalk into the bedroom.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but I force myself to remain silent. Ten minutes later, she blows out of my apartment. For a few seconds, I feel guilty. She was a nice woman, for the most part, and great at giving head. But mostly I feel relief. And determined not to make the mistake of actually falling asleep with another woman again.

I make coffee and pick up my phone to call Trisha, my personal assistant. She informs me she already rescheduled my morning meetings.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Yes, you’ve told me a million times, Hunter. I love you too, and before the sound of those words makes you shriek in horror and run away, you know I mean that in a brotherly way.”

“Right,” I chuckle. “How’s Gwendolyn?”

“Let’s say it’s complicated and leave it at that.”

“Women are so damn difficult.” I take a sip of coffee, immediately regretting the decision as it’s still too hot to drink and singes my lips. “Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t just switch teams. I happen to know a handsome guy who would be just your type.”

“Is he a little over six feet tall with an athletic build? Brown hair and hazel eyes?”

“Yeah, I think we’re talking about the same guy.”

“Yeah, I know that guy, and he’s only my type because he’s even more afraid of commitment than I am. Plus, he’s like my brother, too, and assuming I was ever strictly dickly, I’m not into anything taboo.”

“Everyone’s into something crazy behind closed doors.” I grin widely then ask, “Have you confirmed tomorrow’s meeting with Cross?”

“Actually no. When I called him, he hemmed and hawed a bit. Literally.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a good old Southern boy. But he’s also the best upcoming quarterback in the country, and what do you mean he hemmed and hawed? He was damn excited about the prospect of signing with me and going pro last we talked.”

“Apparently that was before his sister got to him. He let slip she has concerns.”

“Is this the same sister who left twenty-five messages the past week?”

“That’s the one. She’s not your biggest fan.”

I snort. “I’m not afraid of his sister.”

“Seeing as I’m the only one who’s actually spoken to her, I can say in all seriousness: You should be.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. Signing Cross is basically a done deal.”

“Yeah, well done deal or not, he mentioned he might want to include the sister in the meeting.”

I blow out a breath. “Fuck. But fine. By the time I’m done with him and his sister, they’re going to be drooling with dollar signs in their eyes.”

“I hope you’re right. Anyway, will you be gracing us with your presence soon?”

“I’ll be there within the hour.”

I end the call then jump in the shower. When I’m done, I hear someone pounding on my door. Is it the blonde? If she “forgot” something, better to give it to her now rather than risk her coming back. She knocks again, this time more aggressively. My robe is on the floor where she left it and I figure, what the hell, she’s already seen all there is to see of me. So I grab a towel, sling it loosely around my hips, and throw open the door.

Only to find myself staring not at the blonde, but a short curvy woman with hair dark as midnight stalking away from me toward the elevator. When I open the door, she twirls around, and my brows pop up. She’s busty, with large tits that jiggle when she turns, tattoos, hot pink highlights in her hair, and the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. Her mouth is pouty. Her skin is a light tan with hints of freckles. And she’d be gorgeous but for the scowl on her face.

“Hunter Kiss?” she calls, still some distance away, her voice so deep and throaty my dick twitches.

I brace my hands above my head on the door jamb and lean forward with a grin.

Her eyes widen as she seems to suddenly notice I’m only wearing a towel that can slip at any moment. I can practically feel the trail of heat her gaze leaves as it wanders over me. I subtly flex my pecs, grinning when she zones in on the movement.  “That’s right. And you are?”

She blinks then shakes her head as if to clear it. “I’m Chad Cross’s sister. And you can take this phone and shove it up your ass,” she says just before tossing something at me that hits me in the face—hard.