“Realtor left it as a closing present. I’m not a bathrobe guy. Or a pajama guy,” I admitted. “But I’m absolutely a comfort-driven guy, so I’ll put something of mine on the guest bed so you can sleep...you know…”
“Not naked?” she offered.
“Right. That. Enjoy the bath.”
I ran the fuck out of there.
Thirty minutes later I’d laid out a set of sweats on the guest bed, made sure the temperature in her room was suitable and put a glass of water with some painkillers on her nightstand next to an extra cell phone charger I kept.
I walked back into my room as she was coming out of the bathroom.
Steam raised the humidity in the room, and I could smell her skin—all citrusy from the salts—from here.
The bathrobe dwarfed her, the bottom of it reaching her ankles. She looked nervous, biting her lip, but looking me straight in the eye. Her hair was piled on her head in a knot.
“I got you all set up,” I told her, breaking the silence.
She was naked under that robe. Naked, and wet, and I was an asshole for even thinking about that when she’d just been physically assaulted.
“I don’t see pajamas.” She looked at my bed, which brought my dick to full mast. Stop being an idiot, I lectured it in my mind.
“Right, I put them on the guest bed.”
“Do you have your phone on you?” she asked, her voice strengthening with every word.
“Uh...yeah.” I pulled it from my pocket, more than confused.
“Good, set the alarm for six thirty, please.” She walked toward me.
“Okay?” I questioned but did it. The woman had some odd requirements, but I’d get her up in the morning if she wanted. “Why?”
“Because Elliott gets up a little after seven, and I want to make sure I have time.” She kept coming, only a few feet away from me now.
“Time for what?”
“To get in the other bed.”
She tugged the belt on the robe, and rolled her shoulders, dropping the heavy fabric in a pool at her feet.
Leaving her completely, utterly, gloriously naked.
I deserved a motherfucking award for keeping my eyes on hers. For not looking at what I knew was the epitome of the female figure as she walked toward me without getting any closer.
Because I was backing away step-for-step.
“Shea?” I questioned, my tongue thick, my breath already more than a touch ragged.
“Are you running away from me?” she questioned, her eyebrows raised.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I have no idea what’s going on, so I’m really not sure what I’m doing.” My thighs hit the mattress. Great, I’d backed myself straight to my bed. And she was naked. And I wanted her so badly I couldn’t fucking breathe.
And...I was out of thoughts.
“You said something about me screaming your name,” she said, her eyes clear and bright.
She wanted sex. With me.
“That’s the pain meds talking,” I said firmly.
“Tylenol does not make you horny.”
I almost swallowed my tongue. Almost looked down. Almost grabbed her and said fuck-it to being the gentleman I never was.
“Do you know what you’re asking?” Because my dick was pretty sure, and I’d need some major space and a cold shower if I was wrong.
She closed the distance between us and put her hand on my chest. “Do I know that I’m standing here, naked, really exposed, and getting a little embarrassed, asking you to fuck me? Yes, I do know that.”
The urge to unzip my jeans, whip out my cock and plunge inside her dominated the next few seconds of my entire thought process.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I growled, my dick hating me for saying the words. “With what happened tonight…”
“Please take advantage of me,” she pled. “It’s not about tonight. Or maybe it is, a little. It’s also about last night, and the nights and days before that. It’s about giving into something I’ve wanted for so long that it feels like I was born wanting you.”
“Are you sure?” My muscles hurt with the effort to hold myself back. “Because I’ve always said I’ll stop if you ever ask, and I will. I swear I will, but Shea, you’ve got me wound so tight with needing you that I’m deathly afraid of hearing you say yes right now, when what you really need is just to be held. And I can do that. Just hold you. Just make you feel safe. But you’re going to have to put some. Fucking. Clothes. On.”
“Hudson,” she whispered, her fingers trailing up my forearms to my biceps. “I’m of sound mind and decent body. Would you please, if you so desire, maybe use that mouth of yours for something other than talking, and fuck. Me.”
“Yeah,” I answered, my voice thick with need. “I can do that.”
I gripped her bare ass and lifted her against me, groaning at the feel of her soft skin in my hands. Then I kissed the breath out of her, tangling our tongues, bumping our teeth, making sure she felt exactly how badly I wanted her.
A twist of my body and I had her in my bed, laid out like a fucking feast.
And I was starving.
I ripped my shirt over my head as she came up on her elbows to watch. Those gorgeous gray eyes were wide with lust, her pupils dilated, her breath hitching.
A few simple movements and my jeans and boxer-briefs were on the floor. I stood naked before her, hard and ready to take her.
I wondered momentarily if she understood I wouldn’t be letting her go.
Her gaze felt like a caress as she ran it over my body, her lips parting when she reached my cock. Her eyes widened slightly, a flash of apprehension stealing a little of the desire there.
I palmed my length and stroked once. Twice.
“Yeah, you’re small. Fucking tiny as a matter of fact,” I told her, approaching the bed. “And I’m not small.”
She fell back against the gray covers as I slid over her, pushing my knee between hers so her thighs parted just slightly.
“I’m going to stretch you, Shea. Take you so deep that you’ll feel me with every step you take tomorrow. You’re going to squeeze my cock so tight that I’m not sure I’ll survive it.” I bent to her, running my tongue along the shell of her ear. “And you’re going to fucking love it. I won’t hurt you. Not ever. And you’ll take me to the hilt.”
She swallowed. “You’re so sure.”
“Yeah, I am.” My hand slid from where I braced my weight at her side, over her hip, my fingers grazing her thigh before I slid them through her soft, slick folds. She arched her back and moaned as I let my fingers run the length of her from pussy to clit. “Because you’re already drenched for me. Already slippery and ready. And I haven’t even started on you yet.”
Her fingers tangled in my hair, gripping almost painfully, pulling me to her mouth.
I gave it to her, kissing her with abandon, letting my leash out a little, giving in to the need raging in my body to claim hers. I did it with my tongue, first in her mouth, then at her throat, her breasts.
“Fuck, these are perfect,” I told her, swirling my tongue around her nipples, then sucking on one, then the other, until she keened, squirming beneath me. “You’re so curved. So soft. You were made for this, Shea—for loving.”
I kissed my way down her torso, lingering at her belly button, then the soft hollow where her belly planed out to her hips. “I could live here,” I swore as I breathed her in, catching the scent of citrus and her.
Her legs parted wider as I descended lower, and I slid into the cradle of her thighs with my torso, letting my hands run up from behind her knees to hook behind her thighs.
“I could exist on only you.” My tongue parted her and sank into heaven. Just as sweet as before. Just as intoxicating.
“Hudson!” she cried out as I flicked her clit with my tongue, then pulled it between my lips and sucked.
A wave of her desire greeted my fingers as I ran them around the small opening of her pus
sy. Nine years, I reminded myself. I had to make this good. Had to make sure she was ready.
I sank one finger inside her, and her muscles gripped me.
“God, Shea. You’re so damn tight.”
She rocked in answer, riding my finger with a moan. “That feels so good,” she told me.
“Good, baby. You tell me if something doesn’t feel good, okay?”
She nodded, the movement jerky, and I licked her again, savoring her gasp as my finger moved in and out.
I tongued her, sucked at her, nibbled her until her muscles tensed and her breaths grew ragged. “Hudson...I...I…”
“That’s it. Come for me.”
And damn if she didn’t. Her skin flushed, and she screamed my name as I fucked her with a second finger, stretching her tight passage.
“God, yes!” she keened, her hips bucking.
“Hold on, Shea, it’s going to get intense,” I promised.
“Like. It’s. Not. Already?” she asked between pants, her fingers tight in my hair, her pussy drenching my third finger as it joined the other two.
“Fuuuuuck, Shea. I can’t wait to be inside you,” I groaned, pressing my anxious dick into the bed.
“Then don’t wait,” she snapped, her body already coiling, muscles tensing as I rubbed at her g-spot, stroking her with every movement of my fingers.
“Almost, baby. Almost,” I promised to her—to myself, fuck if I knew. I was lost in her, in being what she needed.
She came apart with another cry, warmth flooding my hand as she orgasmed again.
I slipped my fingers free, then grabbed a condom from my nightstand, losing precious seconds to rip open the box I’d purchased that morning on a whim.
She leaned up on her elbows, licking her kiss-swollen lips as she watched me roll the condom down my length.
“You’re gorgeous. You know that, right?” she asked.
I slid back over her, my cock resting at the juncture of her thighs like it belonged there.
“Not compared to you,” I assured her. “You’re perfect.”
She smiled, raising her knees to cradle my hips. Then she kissed me, and I lost my damn mind. Her tongue darted between my teeth, taking possession of what was undeniably hers.
I’d never be able to kiss another woman without tasting Shea.
Never fuck one without feeling Shea’s curves beneath me.
She was branding me, making me hers even if she wasn’t entirely mine.
I used my thumb to work her clit, bringing her to another fever pitch, and just before she was ready to tumble over, I looked her in the eye. “Tell me you want this, because I’m on the verge here, Shea.”
“I want this,” she assured me, wiggling down so my cock met her entrance. “Take me, Hudson.”
My forehead rested against hers as I worked in the first inch, tasting her gasp with my lips, feeling beads of sweat slide down my back from the exertion of going slow.
“More,” she urged. “God, more.”
“Fuck. Hold on. Don’t wiggle like that, Shea. I’m trying to make this good for you.”
She gripped the sides of my face and looked in my eyes. “It’s already good. God, it’s amazing. You’re amazing. I won’t break, Hudson.”
I gripped her hip with one hand and wove my fingers through her hair with the other. Then I kissed her, thrusting my tongue into her mouth as my cock plunged into her heat, sliding through her taut muscles and velvet flesh until I was balls-deep and in serious danger of coming without another movement.
“Holy. Shit. Shea.” I bit out each word, grasping the thin string of my control as I looked down at her, searching for any discomfort.
“Hudson!” she groaned, swirling her hips in a way that made me bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from coming. “God, yes. You feel so good inside me.”
Whatever control I had left snapped.
I pulled out slightly, then thrust back in, living for her moans, her cries as I did it again and again, rocking within her, using my cock to stroke every ounce of pleasure from her body. I gave up trying to kiss her, and let my face rest at her neck as I picked up the pace, swinging my hips to the rhythm of her pounding heart. Or maybe it was mine. Or maybe they were one and the same.
“Harder,” she urged, her back arching. I slipped an arm through the space.
“Hold on,” I ordered her, and she looped her arms around my neck, and her ankles around my hips, taking me even deeper. “Fuck,” I groaned.
Then I let loose, thrusting, working us both to the edge, watching her neck arch, her eyes glaze, her lips part again and again as she began to whimper, her muscles locking.
“Yes, Shea. That’s it. Give in.”
“God, Hudson. You have. To. Come with. Me.” She was living, breathing, writhing sensuality, lost to the feeling, the sensation underneath me.
“I’m with you, baby,” I promised, biting the edge back from my impending orgasm. It barreled down my spine, demanding release.
She clenched around me, her pussy locking down on my cock with a velvet grip that ripped my orgasm from my body as hers consumed us both, locked us both in a world where nothing existed besides the pleasure we’d found in this bed.
I growled out her name as I came, like I could claim her, mark her, brand her as she’d done to me.
She answered with her own cry.
I swear, I blacked the fuck out.
When I came to, I quickly rolled to my side so she could breathe, taking her with me, unwilling to withdraw, to lose the connection.
“I think I’m dead,” she groaned.
“I think I’m finally alive,” I said in a burst of honesty.
She peered over at me, her eyes soft, something I was scared to call affection caressing me with her gaze.
We lay there for countless minutes, staring, letting our hands stroke each other, learning the little lines and curves.
When I slipped free of her body, I excused myself to dispose of the condom, then got right back in that bed, tucking her under the covers with me.
I kissed a line across her collarbone, stopping at a scar that ran the length of my pinky finger.
“Glass coffee table,” she answered.
My eyes flew to hers, but she just gave me a warm, sleepy smile, and touched my eyebrow. Quid pro quo.
“Beer bottle. Courtesy of my father. I was eleven.”
My finger grazed her scar again, hoping she’d give me the same honesty. “Elliott’s father. I was sixteen.”
“Thank you for telling me.”
She nodded slowly.
Then I thanked her again, this time using my body until she cried out twice more.
Chapter 10
Shea
I half-shifted half-stretched, my eyelids firmly closed as I crawled my way up from one of the deepest sleeps I’d had in years. The motion slid my leg over a very large and very naked Hudson.
My eyes peeled open, warmth pooling deliciously in my core as I took in his sleeping body. His broad chest, the smooth, inked skin stretched tight over muscles that were strong even in sleep.
A pleasant soreness throbbed between my thighs, and for a few moments I simply reveled in the way sparks crackled under my fingertips as I grazed them over his chest.
Then my brain caught up with my body.
I shot straight up, my eyes snapping fully open.
“Oh my God!” I gasped.
Hudson, brow furrowed and eyes barely open, pushed up to his elbows. “What, woman?” he breathed, my jolt scaring him awake. Then he bolted upright, his hand gentle on the line of my jaw, concern coloring over the surprise in his eyes. “Is it your head? Are you all right?”
“No!” I said, though something warmed inside me at his immediate worry. In truth, my cheek did hurt and my eye felt like it might pop out of its socket if I moved too fast. I glanced at his naked torso, the crisp silk sheet covering his lower half, and then took in my own body.
Naked.
Bare.
I’d laid everything before this man in a way I’d never done before.
And him?
He’d taken me to places I didn’t even know existed.
“Shea,” Hudson grumbled, that gravelly voice shooting chills down the middle of me.
I tucked the sheet higher over my breasts, not from shame but from the raised chills across my skin. “I…” I clenched my eyes shut. “Oh my God, your alarm didn’t go off. It’s six-fifty! And I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.”
Hudson fell on his back, the pillow puffing in protest. “Do what?” he asked, a slight tease in his voice as he tucked one bulging arm behind his head. “Wake me up like the house is on fire?”
I bit back a laugh, my head jerking toward his nightstand. Six-fifty-one. I had minutes, minutes before Elliott woke up and then she’d find me here and—
Panic, cold and searing, soared through my blood, propelling me out of Hudson’s king size bed. The sheet still covering me slid off him, and I stood on my bare feet, gaping at him for a few seconds.
Good gracious, what did the man do to his body to make it look the way it did? Like he’d been carved of muscle and smooth skin and whorls of ink to create this perfect balance of enthralling and intimidating.
He cocked a brow at me, never once flinching away from the way his body was on display.
A slickness made my thighs warm, but the panic did its best to stop it in its tracks.
“Gah,” I groaned, racing around his room in search of my clothes. “I swore I would never bring men into Elliott’s life like this,” I said, huffing as I found my blouse but not my pants.
Where the hell were my pants?
I dropped to my knees, the thunk audible as I scanned under his bed.
“Not before marriage,” I continued to rant, popping back up to standing, hands empty. Abandoning all hope of tracking down my entire outfit, I grabbed the T-shirt Hudson had worn last night—the same one he’d slid over his head before he’d kissed every inch of me—
Focus.
I yanked it over my head, the shirt swallowing my body. The hem stopped just short of my knees, and it smelled like him. I breathed deep, my body and mind and heart at war.
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