I’m at a loss. I frown. “Has no man told you that before?” Surely she knows how attractive she is. Her beauty goes beyond her physical looks—it’s her aura, her carriage, the way her eyes shine and the way her forehead creases with worry. She is a combination of strong and weak—like a beautiful vase that has been shattered and glued back together so perfectly that you can only see the cracks when looking very closely. She epitomizes the rising of the phoenix from the ashes. Many a man must have burned up in her presence.
She fumbles with her glass. “Not in so many words. Actions sometimes. Certainly not so bluntly.”
I almost curse at her admission. “That’s a shame.” How has no one recognized the preciousness of the gem before me? She doesn’t recognize it in herself, even. It’s disappointing. Heartbreaking, if I were the type who had a heart.
Without meaning to, I find myself reaching across the table for her hand. I stroke my thumb across her unbearably soft skin. “I plan to tell you every chance I get.”
Now where the hell did that come from? But no sooner are the words out of my mouth than I know they’re true. I’m breaking all my rules with this woman, acting outside my very nature. Maybe other men have survived her flames, but I fear I’m already burning.
She pulls her hand away. “Oh.”
I see the wheels turning in her head. She’s retreating. Fast. “I, uh, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. I need to go. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
She stands and I do too. I don’t want her to leave. My pulse speeds up and there’s sweat on my brow. Is this panic? It’s an unfamiliar sensation, and I feel like I’m spiraling out of control.
I practically plead to Alayna to stay. “I wish you wouldn’t. But if you must…”
She won’t meet my eyes. “I’ve got to get to work.”
She heads for the door, and I follow. Just as she places her hand on the knob, I press my palm on the top, preventing her from opening it. This is not in my script. This is not on my agenda. All I know is that I cannot let her leave.
I lower my head to her ear and it takes all I have not to nibble on her lobe. “Wait, Alayna.” My cock stiffens as I breathe her in. Her scent is shampoo and bodywash and sweet musk—none of those flowery perfumes cover up her natural aroma.
Without premeditation, I speak, letting the words flow naturally. “I apologize for overwhelming you. That wasn’t my intent. But I want you to know that whether or not you decide to help with my situation, I will continue to seduce you. I’m a man who gets what he wants. And I want you.”
Then I can’t help myself anymore—I do nibble on her ear. She gasps and leans her head to the side. With her neck exposed, I am a kid in a candy store. I nip and lick along her neck. She grabs my arm and that’s my invitation to wrap my other arm around her. I palm her breast. She leans into my hand, and I feel her nipple pebble through her dress. All I can think about is sucking on it, pulling it with my teeth.
I squeeze her tit and nuzzle my face into her hair. “I should have told you earlier—you look absolutely beautiful tonight. I can’t keep my eyes off you. Serious and sexy wrapped into one package.” This isn’t the most appropriate place for this, but I can’t fucking stand to wait another minute longer. “Kiss me, Alayna.”
Slowly, she turns her head toward me. I’m there to meet her. I take her mouth with mine, sliding my tongue in to tangle with hers. Her lips are soft and silky, but she meets my greedy ardor with equal fervor. I’m demanding, needing her to understand that this is how it will be with me—I will take the lead, I will dominate. Even when I’m as out-of-control as I am at the moment, I will guide us through the physical.
And her taste…
It’s incredible. It’s addictive. It’s delicious.
I want to taste her everywhere. Want to trail my tongue along her navel. Want to suck on her clit. Want to lick the slit of her cunt.
We shift together, turning until our bodies are lined up. I grab her ass, drawing her closer, and she wraps her hands around my neck. God, I want her. I want her like I’ve never wanted anyone. I know I can’t take her here, and yet I’m not sure I can stop. Especially when she starts grinding her hips against my cock. She’s the matador waving the red flag, and I’m the bull about to charge.
But nothing about this is right. The location, the timing…most of all, the circumstances. This night is about the game. I don’t want the taint of that overshadowing the glory of being buried inside her. Celia does not get an invitation into our bed.
Thoughts of Celia make it easier to push Alayna away. I keep my hands on her shoulders, though, keeping her at a distance. It would take only the brush of her body against mine and I’d change my mind about fucking her right now. We pant in unison as we recover our breathing, my eyes never leaving hers.
I see it when the disappointment and concern settle in. Wanting to ease her, I brush a hand down her cheek. “Not here, precious. Not like this.” I wrap my other hand around her neck and press my forehead to hers. “I will have you beneath me. In a bed. Where I can adore you properly.” This promise is the only thing keeping me gentlemanly. I won’t have her tonight. But I will have her.
I trail my hand down to her bra where I know she keeps her phone. I feast on the curve of her breast as I remove her cell. I swipe her screen and call my own phone. I hang up as soon as it rings. I already have her number, of course, but I want her to see that I’ve gotten it legitimately. “Now we have each other’s numbers. I expect you to use it.”
I replace her phone inside her bra, my eyes lingering once more on the swell of her cleavage. My dick is so hard it hurts. It’s a risk kissing her again, so I simply brush my lips across hers. “Call me when you’re ready.” Except I’m afraid she won’t be ready as soon as I’d like, so I add, “Tomorrow.”
I kiss her chastely and rush out. I will definitely need a turn with my hand tonight. Even two turns may not be enough to relieve me.
Chapter Eight
Before
I drove myself to the Brookes’ party. Usually if there was a chance I might get drunk, I would have relied instead on a driver. But I needed full control that night—that required no drinking and an easy escape route. After the shaky ending to the previous evening, I’d decided it was time to wrap the Celia experiment up for good. I’d made it clear there would be no us until she broke up with her boyfriend. If she didn’t offer to end things with him at this point, then I’d have to change my conclusion. Maybe her silly attachment was stronger than I thought. Maybe I was wrong.
But I doubted that.
I arrived after the sun had set and the party was in full swing. I wanted Celia waiting for me by the time I showed up. Part of me was surprised that she hadn’t tried to call me to make sure I was still coming. Though, with the way she’d left things the night before, I bet that she was giving me space. I also bet it was killing her.
I parked my car far from the house so I’d be sure to not be blocked in. As I walked up the long drive, I noted that Celia’s car wasn’t there. It didn’t mean anything. She could have been driven. She likely figured I’d give her a ride home. That wasn’t in my plans.
I halted for a moment at the front walk. What exactly were my plans? If Celia decided she was breaking up with Dirk, I’d have to tell her it was all a misunderstanding, of course. But after that, when she was crying and quite possibly mad as hell—what then? I was consumed with wanting to know her full reaction. In my dream ending, she’d make a public display and I’d be a front row spectator. This was the most fascinating part of the entire study, after all. Emotions. How they weakened the strong. How they deluded the intelligent. How they transformed a person into someone unrecognizable. I had an advantage with Celia that I hadn’t had with many of my previous studies—I knew people in her life well enough to be privy to the aftermath. I’d hear from my mother how quickly she recovered, whether or not Celia decided to get back with Dirk. I’d probably be on Sophia’s shit list for it, but that would be an
improvement from being not on her list at all.
But wait. I was getting ahead of myself. Celia hadn’t even broken up with her boyfriend yet. No need to worry about the after when I was still in the before.
Inside the house, I grabbed a beer and found a group of acquaintances to sit with. Though I didn’t plan to drink much of it, I needed the bottle in hand as a prop. It made me seem casual, relaxed. The less desperate I appeared to Celia, the better. When she found me and realized I’d had no urgency to find her, I suspected it would raise her own desperation. She’d invite me to talk. I’d shrug and go along. My aloof demeanor would force her to play her best hand.
It was only a guess. But it was calculated and I had a good deal of faith in it.
When nearly an hour went by, and I’d seen no sign of The Subject, I began to wonder if I’d overestimated my holdings. Had she decided not to come? Looking for her was out of the question. Inquiring about her would also give up some of my leverage. But if I were careful about the way I asked…
I hooked eyes with Christina across the room. She’d been trying to get my attention for the last fifteen minutes, and I’d pretended not to notice. But damn, I noticed. She was wearing a short skirt that rode her hips and a halter top so high that miles of skin showed in between. She oozed sex. Her fuck-me lips were painted with a light gloss that made them look like they’d just been licked. She was a distraction—a distraction that I didn’t need.
But if anyone knew of Celia’s whereabouts, it was her.
I played the staring game with her, exchanging lewd glances until she beckoned me over. I pretended to consider it. Then I made my way through the swarm of bodies toward her, hoping that the stiffy I was sporting wouldn’t be witnessed by Celia. Maybe, if I worked the situation right, Christina could be my reward for concluding my experiment. Too consumed with my plans to think about my cock, it had been weeks since I’d gotten laid. Too long. I needed to be buried in pussy soon. And Christina Brooke was in possession of a more than acceptable pussy.
She leaned against the dining room archway as I approached, her eyes pinned on me. “Hudson Pierce.” She said my name with a slow seductive smile. “It took you long enough.”
I feigned innocence. “To get to the party?”
“To come looking for me.” She wet her lips and my gaze immediately rushed to her tongue as it flicked along its path.
Damn, she was going to make it difficult to keep focused, but I tried all the same. “I didn’t come looking for you. You summoned me.”
“That I did.” Her gaze flickered to my lips and back to my eyes. “And you came.”
“No, I didn’t. Not yet.” Flirting was easy with Christina Brooke. I’d have fucked her in high school if it weren’t for the fact she’d had a steady boyfriend. The boyfriend hadn’t been a problem for me, but Christina had been loyal. She’d also been innocent then. The way her demeanor had loosened up since the summer before, I had to think college had stripped her of her naiveté.
And then all I could think about was stripping Christina of other things.
“Oh, such a naughty boy.” Her grin was as wicked as my thoughts. “I sure hope that you haven’t already chosen your target for when you do.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’d like to volunteer.”
I stifled a laugh but kept my face straight. “That’s funny that you think you’d have any choice in the matter.” I placed a hand on the wall above her head and leaned in. “I mean, if you’re my target, I’d hit it, whether invited to or not.”
Her intake of breath was audible. “Damn. You just soaked my panties.”
I glanced down at her tight skirt, imagining what sort of panties she was wearing underneath. Then imagining beneath the panties. “Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing any.”
“That could be arranged.”
The banter was more than fun. It was getting me hot and making me forget my real purpose for approaching her. I dropped my hand from the wall and took a sip from the beer I was nursing, forcing my mind to switch gears. “Why are you alone anyway, Christina? I expected to see Celia hanging at your side.”
She gave a bored shrug. “She was here earlier.”
“She already left?” Shit. I’d been too cocky to think that she’d wait.
“She might be back later. She said she needed some recovery time.” Christina swept her hair off her shoulder.
I raised a brow. What did she need to recover from? My nerves stood on end, concerned that I’d misstepped somewhere along the way. Self-centered thinking, maybe, but it didn’t end my worry.
Christina answered my questioning expression. “She broke up with her boyfriend today.”
My heart pounded in my ears. Celia had broken up with Dirk. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? I’d been prepared for a confrontation. I’d been prepared to put on a good show of longing. The news was almost anti-climactic, but still very satisfying.
“Are you sure they really broke up?” I took another tug of my beer to hide my glee. That swallow finished off the drink.
“Yeah, I’m sure. She was here when he called.” Christina took the bottle from my hand and set it on the buffet behind her. She waited until she was facing me again before she continued. “I don’t think she was planning to dump him, exactly, but one minute she was saying hello and the next she was saying she was sorry it was over. Yeah, I eavesdropped, but she didn’t leave the room, so I figured fair game.”
“Damn.” As if I’d judge her for eavesdropping. I could kiss her for it. And I would kiss her—very soon. A victory kiss followed by a victory plunge.
But first, there were too many unknowns. Celia and Dirk may have had a fight that had nothing to do with me. I needed more information before I could truly celebrate success. And I needed my source to give it to me without noticing I was prying.
With my hands free of the bottle, I moved into Christina, pressing her further into the wall. My dick hardened at the full body contact. “Why did Celia do that? I thought she was really into her boyfriend.”
Christina chortled. “You did not. You thought she was into you.” So I had no need to cloak my interest after all. “And she is. She dumped him because of you.” She ground her pelvis against mine.
A surge of triumph washed through me. My pulse quickened both from the excitement of my achievement and from the knowledge that I was about to fuck and fuck hard. It was almost painful to draw out the celebration, but I also knew the pleasure of delayed gratification.
Christina traced a finger along my jaw. “Obviously, you don’t return the feeling.”
“And she thinks of you as a close friend, Christina. Obviously, you don’t return that feeling.” God, what despicable people we were. We deserved each other. At least for the night.
“Au contraire. I love her like a sister.” She trailed her hands up the sides of my fitted shirt, sending sparks of electricity thrumming through my veins. “But she is not Hudson Pierce material. She could never handle you.”
“And you think you can?” It was my turn to smirk. As if anyone could handle me. I was the one who handled people. Just like I was handling Christina Brooke. She may have thought she’d seduced me from across the room, but it was I who was in control. And when I took her, it would be on my terms.
But allowing her to believe she had the power was half the fun.
“I know I can.” Her chin jutted forward in a challenge. Or she was hinting that she wanted to be kissed—probably a combination of both.
“Interesting.”
“Is it really? Because I’ll tell you what I think would be interesting.” She grabbed me through my pants, and I grew stiffer in her hand. If she kept that up, I’d come right there.
That wasn’t happening. I needed to get inside her. I needed to be balls deep. I needed to pound out the strange mixture of victory and self-loathing that was currently messing with my head. Waiting was done. It was time to act out my desires.
I leaned in
to Christina’s ear. “Unless it starts with my tongue in your mouth and ends with my cock in your cunt, I don’t want to hear it.”
Her eyes dilated as she peeked up at me under her long lashes. “Let’s go to my bedroom, shall we?”
It didn’t have to be a bedroom. It didn’t even have to be private. “I’ll give you two minutes and wherever we are in that time, that’s where you’re getting fucked.”
She led me upstairs and to her room within her time limit. But just barely. As soon as the door was shut behind us, I was on her. My mouth mashed against hers in a bruising, erotic kiss. I plunged my tongue between her lips, immediately establishing my dominance. This would not be playful sex. This would not be sweet sex. This would be rough sex. This would be sex on my terms.
I broke the kiss long enough to pull her tank over her head. My hands palmed her breasts as I resumed my power over her mouth. She moaned as I bit at her lips. She sighed as I squeezed her tits. She yelped as I pinched her nipples. She loved it—every single minute of it.
I’d lost my virginity before I was sixteen, and in the three plus years that I’d engaged in sexual activity, I’d been broad in my exploration of technique and style. There were times that I fully enjoyed the idea of turning a woman on. It was a turn-on for me—not because I cared so much if my partner experienced pleasure but because it was a chance for me to exude my power. Like any of my experiments, I craved the dissection of cause and effect. I reveled in guessing what effect my actions would have on each of my lovers.
I knew how Christina would want it from her initial reactions to my dirty talk. She wanted me dominant and controlling. Fortunately, that was exactly the way I wanted to get off that night.
Without untangling my tongue from hers, I pushed her back to the bed. She started to sit, pulling me down with her, but she was not in charge of this experience. I was. I pulled away, exerting my domination and urged her to stand again. I turned her so her back was to me and nudged her down on the bed so that her ass was in the air in front of me. I placed my hands at the top of her thighs and caressed up to her ass, pushing her skirt up to her waist as I did. Her behind was round, plump, perfect for kneading. Perfect for biting.
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