Dear Mr. Hunk: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  Contents

  Dear Mr. Hunk

  NEWSLETTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  Dear Mr. Hunk

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 271

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2021 by Flora Ferrari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  Dear Mr. Hunk

  Bennet Bradshaw has been my dad’s hunky best friend for as long as I can remember. They served in the SEALs together, and dad would freak if he knew about my crush.

  When Bennet almost kisses me on my eighteenth birthday, I can’t believe it’s happening. He’s older, tall, and muscular, with piercing eyes and a body carved of steel.

  I’m curvy, shy, and inexperienced. It’s crazy to think he’d ever be attracted to me.

  But at the last second, he stops. “We can’t do this.”

  Then he disappears for a year, hiding away in his big expensive house, as though he can’t trust himself to be close to me.

  A year later, my best friend gives me a dare. Write him a letter, confessing my crush, telling him how badly I’ve wanted him ever since we nearly kissed…

  It’s a mistake. I’m sure of it. But I get caught up in the moment and not only write him a letter I deliver it personally.

  I don’t expect anything in return, and I definitely don’t expect what happens…

  A series of letters, each one steamier than the last, as Bennet tells me all the ways he wants to make me tremble. He tells me I belong to him, possessively claiming me, telling me I better do every little thing he says.

  That would be intimidating enough, considering I’m a virgin with zero experience.

  But what happens if my dad finds out? Am I going to ruin their friendship, the bond they formed as soldiers?

  With three little words, Dear Mr. Hunk, I know nothing will ever be the same again.

  * Dear Mr. Hunk is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  Chapter One

  Rory

  We sit in Yasmin’s car opposite the mansion, looking more like a fortress with its high walls and imposing iron gates. Peering through the autumn rain, I see that none of the lights are on, at least at the front of the house – the part I can see from this angle since a lot of it is blocked by his gigantic keep-out walls.

  “What if he’s in?” I murmur, nerves swirling in my belly.

  Yasmin giggles and digs playfully into my side. “He’s not in. Look at the place.”

  “He could just be sleeping. Or in a different room.”

  Yasmin smiles across at me. When I return her gaze, it’s easy to look past our nineteen years to the girl she was when we first met, a four year old with bright red hair and freckles across her face. She used to hate her vivid hair, but now she’s grown into it, letting it fall down to her shoulders while owning her freckles.

  “Think of it as a reverse birthday gift,” she goes on, ignoring my comment.

  It’s probably because she knows it’s true.

  Bennet Bradshaw could be in that large house somewhere, lying down in his underwear, his muscled chest heaving and his lips tipped into his characteristic smirk even as he rests.

  My heartbeat quickens at the thought of him, pounding like it’s trying to drag me back to the past, to my eighteenth birthday.

  I try not to think about that just in case I lose control and let my mind dance off to ridiculous places, but it’s difficult to beat back that part of me as I remember how close we came.

  “It’s not like you’re going to leave your name,” she says, softer now. “But if you really don’t want to leave the letter, I’ll understand.”

  “Do you think I’ve been vague enough?” I ask.

  Yasmin shrugs. “I’m not sure. I think so. You didn’t mention any specifics about the party or anything. Maybe this was a silly idea. I don’t want to pressure you into anything, Rory.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I say quickly. “I agreed to this. It’s just now that we’re here I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

  She giggles. “Lorelei Clark please open the window if you feel that urge.”

  I shoot her a look. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to ruin your car.”

  We grin and then turn wordlessly back to the house.

  My whole body buzzes with excitement and doubt and a whole cacophony of emotions as I try to convince myself to step from the car and stride up to his mailbox, which sits just beside the gate.

  It’s my nineteenth birthday, an exact year since I almost kissed Bennet Bradshaw, my dad’s hunky best friend.

  We sink into comforting silence – Yasmin isn’t rushing me, which is nice – as my mind glides over the past twelve months to the moment we shared or almost shared.

  Hot tempting pleasure swirls in my belly, as I remember how close we came.

  I was right at the back of the yard, waiting for Yasmin to return so we could take a picture by the fairy lights. Everyone else had gone into the house because of the rain, but Yasmin was determined to get this picture, so there I was, the light raindrops pattering against my hair and sticking it to my head.

  My parents had organized the party, inviting a bunch of family friends, as well as Yasmin and a couple of girls from my high school. I’d later learn Yasmin had completely spaced about the picture and had accidentally left me out there, which she apologized for over and over until I laughingly told her it was okay.

  And it was. Because if she hadn’t left me there, it never would’ve happened.

  Bennet striding across the lawn toward me as I waited.

  When I saw him, I bit my lip, warning myself to beat down my childish crush, the crush I’d had on him for as long as I could remember.

  He was always around the house when I was growing
up, a Navy SEAL, the same as my dad, spending more and more time with him once they’d both retired and started their own businesses… a security firm for Bennet, and the construction business for my dad.

  I’d often dream about his ice blue eyes staring at me, seeing me like I meant something to him.

  I’d imagined him wrapping those huge arms around me and hugging me close, stroking his hand through my hair, before leaning down and kissing me passionately.

  It was impossible. I knew that. I was underage and, even if I wasn’t, there was no way he’d look twice at me.

  “What are you doing out here in the rain, Lorelei?” he asked, his voice gruff, even more so than usual.

  “Waiting for Yasmin,” I told him. “We’re supposed to take a picture in front of the fairy lights.”

  The lights were behind me, lighting up his face, making his eyes glimmer with even more intensity. His hair shining in the slanting rain.

  “You would make a good picture right now.”

  I was surprised to hear his voice was heavy with alcohol, heavier than I’d ever heard it. He wasn’t drunk. But there was a husky quality to it that told me he’d had a few beers, but he seemed completely in control as he closed the distance between us, stopping just short of me.

  Close enough to kiss.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he growled. His fingers twitched at his sides and his jaw pulsing, as though he was struggling to hold himself back. “Really, really fucking beautiful.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a whimpering unsure noise. Looking past him, I looked into the house, expecting to find someone laughing in the doorway.

  This had to be some sort of birthday prank, a way to get my hopes up. I even thought Yasmin might’ve arranged it, but that didn’t make any sense. She’d never do anything so cruel to me.

  He took another step forward, his body brushing against mine. Tingles danced up and down my legs, teased my clit and my sex. My nipples felt raw and my mouth dry and all I could do was stare up at him, stare, and wait… but for what?

  “It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time,” he snarled, leaning down until he was gazing right into my eyes.

  I could taste the beer on his breath as he panted heavily, and I knew he wouldn’t be doing this if he was sober.

  But I didn’t care.

  So what if he was forty-one and I was only eighteen?

  I’d had a crush on him for as long as I could remember.

  My wildest dreams were coming true.

  “Which is a good thing, seeing as you’ve only just turned eighteen. But damn… the way your body looks in that dress. The way you’re staring at me right now…”

  “How am I staring?” I whispered, hardly able to get the words out, my pounding heartbeat threatening to stifle me.

  “Like you want this to happen. Like you need it to happen.”

  He leaned down and I was ready, so freaking ready for what we were about to do.

  I parted my lips, my eyelids falling shut, as I prepared to sink into the kiss.

  But then I heard heavy footsteps, receding, squelching in the rainy mud. Opening my eyes, I saw Bennets retreating back, his fists clenched at his sides, shaking his head as he marched down the side path, out the gate, leaving me and the party.

  I wrote the letter as a way to try and get my overactive mind to settle down, describing how much the near kiss had meant to me so I could finally let it go. But I know I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about him, no matter how many letters I write.

  “Screw it.”

  I throw the car door open without giving myself time to question it, stride across the street and pull his mailbox open. Shoving the letter inside, I quickly walk slash jog back to the car, feeling like I’m robbing a bank, approaching the getaway car while trying to look normal.

  Yasmin claps her hands when I drop into the passenger seat. “That was awesome. I wish I could see his face when he reads it.”

  I swallow, imagining his lips turning down into a deep frown, his eyes glinting with disgust.

  If he’d really wanted to kiss me, he would’ve done it. He wouldn’t have left.

  But did he stop because he didn’t want to, or because he didn’t want to betray dad?

  They served overseas together. They’ve been friends longer than I’ve been alive.

  “Come on, Yas.” I wring my hands together. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Yasmin starts the car, her headlights cutting through the autumn darkness, guiding us away from Bennet’s home and the crazy words in his mailbox.

  Chapter Two

  Bennet

  I get back to the city in the early hours of the morning, feeling dog-tired after my stint on the West Coast. A few of the boys and I were working security for a big concert. A few threats had been made – some of them legit and others phony – the concert organizers wanted the best, so they called me.

  It was a good job, a nice payday for the men, but now all I want to do is climb into bed and grab a few hours of sleep.

  Hell, try to grab a few hours of sleep.

  As I drive through the dead quiet suburbs, taking the turn that will lead to the outskirts and my place, I think about these past twelve months, ever since I almost kissed my best friend’s daughter on her eighteenth birthday.

  I never normally drink, but that night Rick wrangled up a few of our old SEAL buddies and we were all swinging bottles, sharing memories, and that was when I saw her.

  Even now, a year later, I clench the steering wheel when I remember my first time laying eyes on her.

  That isn’t technically true obviously. I’d seen her plenty when she was growing up, but I’d never looked at her like that.

  There was a special place in hell for motherfuckers who even thought about kids in that way. I’d met a few of the sick fucks during my years as a SEAL and then working various security jobs, and it had never ended well for them.

  She was just Rick’s daughter, a dorky girl in braces with her nose always buried in either her notebook as she scrawled one of her stories or a paperback as her eyes flitted across the pages. I’d always been friendly with her but never thought about her much. Rick was my friend. She was just there.

  But on her eighteenth birthday, something changed.

  I looked up and there she was, striding across the party, her dark hair loose and free around her shoulders. A tight black dress, highlighting the curves of her hips and her juicy round breasts.

  Her eyes met mine and I was sure there was a glint in her emerald greens, a glimmer that told me she felt the same way.

  She knew what I was thinking, how badly I wanted this, and she wanted it too.

  My cock twinged and jerked against my pants, my balls suddenly feeling ten times their usual weight, screaming at me to grab her and take her somewhere private and fuck her raw.

  I had to have her. I needed to own her.

  She was mine.

  Now, as I get closer to home, I remind myself that these thoughts make no damn sense.

  She doesn’t belong to me or anyone. I’ve got no business imagining what it would be like to slip into her body, to take her ferally until my seed is erupting inside of her… sliding into her womb, settling there, joining with her, and growing a life.

  I laugh gruffly, shaking my head. I haven’t let myself think these insane thoughts for a while now, at least a few weeks.

  It must be because it’s been a year to the day since the near kiss. Or near miss depending on how I look at it.

  But that was the feeling which gripped me as I walked across the yard, a pounding conviction that told me I had a duty to claim this woman, to tell her she was mine, would always be mine. If another man so much as touched her… I couldn’t even think about what I’d do.

  The beer was working its dark magic, but I couldn’t even attempt to blame the alcohol. It was her beauty, that shy way she had of looking at me under her eyelashes, the rain sliding down her ne
ck and making her modest cleavage flicker in the fairy lights like she was begging me to grab them, palm them, please them.

  It was all her, and I couldn’t stop, not as I leaned forward…

  But then I remembered a time overseas when bullets had rained down all around us. I’d looked up to find Rick grinning at me, his face sandy with an open cut weeping from his cheek. He’d laughed and howled like a madman, before nodding behind me.

  The air support. The cavalry. Us cheering together.

  It was a random memory. It could’ve been any out of hundreds, but it punched into me with a heavy impact, warning me I couldn’t do this.

  I couldn’t kiss Rick’s daughter, for fuck’s sake, much less claim her in this primal way.

  So I turned and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could before I lost control and dragged her with me.

  When I got home, I couldn’t stop from charging into my bedroom and lying on the bed. Wrapping my hand around my hard dick, I felt all the precome, sliding slick on my length as I closed my eyes and saw Lorelei bent over in that tight black dress.

  I imagined sliding the fabric up, revealing her soft round ass, grinding my hand up between her thighs, and tearing at her panties.

  I’d thrust in like the beast I am, pounding her hard, grabbing onto her hips as I rocked into her, owning her.