by Gow, Kailin
But before that happened, I had to know something. When he moved closer, I put a hand against his chest. His very strong, rock hard chest. “Wait.”
“I can’t.” But he paused. “What?”
He was inches from my face, and the lips I longed to nibble on kept my focus as I spoke. “Why me? You could have anyone you want.”
“Awesome. I want you.” He leaned in again, his mouth brushing mine, his breath heating my skin.
“Why?”
He pulled back. Not far, only far enough to look at me. “I don’t know. I just do.” His words came out a whisper, as if he rarely made statements of uncertainty, and I doubted he did. “From the moment I saw you…” He trailed off as he brushed his fingertips across my forehead, his eyes fixed intently on mine, and I briefly wondered which moment—the night of the graduation symposium or when he’d first seen me in the club?
Whenever he meant, his bewildered possessiveness was sincere, and when and why didn’t matter anymore and the little voice screaming in my head was drowned out by the loud whooshing sound of desire pulsing through my veins. I leaned forward.
Hudson didn’t hesitate for a second, meeting my mouth with his. As doubtful as his words had been, his lips were confident and firm. He moved a hand behind my neck to direct me, deepening the kiss, stroking my tongue with his own. He sucked and licked into me, sending shivers down my spine and I imagined his wet, hot mouth on other parts of my body. I sighed.
Without his mouth leaving mine, he pulled me to a standing position. This was better. I could press my body into him, feel his lust along my belly, get the contact that I yearned for. I ran my hands through his hair and down along the base of his neck, enjoying the tingles shooting through my limbs as he moaned against my lips.
A sharp buzzer made us both jump and pull away. I put a hand over my chest, my heart beating rapidly from the scare and from the intense kiss.
Hudson grinned. “The intercom,” he explained, his voice ragged. He moved behind his desk and pushed a button. “Yes?”
The secretary’s voice poured into the room again. “I’m about to leave, Mr. Pierce. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you, Patricia. You may go.” He’d gotten control of his voice now. Amazing. I was still reeling.
Hudson put one hand on his hip and stared at me, as if wondering what to do with a problem in front of him. It both heated and chilled me simultaneously, to be looked at so intensely, to be considered so scientifically.
I hugged my arms around myself. “What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.” He grabbed his jacket off the seat chair and extended his hand to me. “Come, Alayna.”
My body responded to his command before my brain could decide to. I took his hand, the warmth of it rekindling the fire he’d started in my mouth.
He led me to an elevator in the back corner of his office that I hadn’t noticed before. Inside the car, he entered a code into the panel and we traveled what felt like one flight up. The doors opened to a fully furnished loft, styled in the same modern design as his office below. Floor to ceiling windows lined one whole wall. The theme was echoed throughout the sprawling space, glass walls partitioning off a dining room, a sitting area, and peeking behind half-drawn curtains, a bedroom.
I quickly looked away from the bed, scandalized by the wicked thoughts that flashed through my mind at the sight of his personal space, and met Hudson’s gaze, aware of the amusement in his eyes. I flushed.
He walked to the kitchen and opened a cupboard pulling out two glasses. “Can I get you some iced tea?”
“Sure.” I wondered if he always had iced tea or if he’d stocked it specifically for me. I followed him to the kitchen, climbing up onto a sleek metallic looking barstool. “You live here?”
He opened the freezer and grabbed a handful of ice cubes, dropping half in each of the glasses. “Sometimes I stay here. But I don’t consider it my home.”
I looked around the loft again, realization setting in. “Hudson! Is this your fuck pad?”
“Sometimes.” He poured tea into our glasses and then turned to hand me one across the counter.
I took the glass from him, sipping eagerly, needing the moisture for my suddenly dry mouth. “And you brought me here because…?”
He took a swallow of his tea, and licked his lips. He raised a brow. “Why do you think I brought you here?”
A sudden thrill set in followed by a wave of panic. I wasn’t ready for this, was I? I looked at my watch. There was no time. “Um, I have to leave for work in ten minutes.”
“Twenty minutes. You have a driver.”
I shifted, the inside of my legs feeling sticky and moist. “That’s still not a whole lot of time.”
Hudson came around the counter, took my tea from my hand and set it down with his. “Not a whole lot of time for what?”
My throat felt like it had closed, but somehow I managed weak words. “Are you going to make me say it?”
He grinned as he swiveled me around, then caged me against the bar. “No. Not now. If you say it, I won’t be able to resist you, and, as you said, there’s not enough time. So instead, I’ll have to settle for a sample.”
His mouth sealed over mine, consuming my lips and my tongue with heated frenzy. My hands crawled up his vest, yearning to be on his skin. I could feel the hard, broad muscles of his chest underneath my fingertips. Jesus, this man had to work out, the sculpted definition of his torso evident through two layers of clothing. I wanted to run my nails over his body, aching to discover if he had hair or was bare-chested, desperate to be naked against him.
Hudson didn’t let the minor detail of fabric get in the way of his desire. He undid several buttons at my torso so he could slip his hand in and cup my breast. My nipples stood up as he flicked lightly at one with his thumb. Then he squeezed using just the right amount of roughness that I liked, causing me to sigh with pleasure into his mouth.
He placed his other hand on my bare leg and slowly traced up my limb. His touch was fire against my skin and I fidgeted under his caress wanting more of the burn, greedy for the inferno at bay. I opened my thighs for him, coaxing his hand upward with one of my own. He smiled against my lips as I willingly showed him my need—my insane craving for him.
And then his fingers were on me, pushing aside the thin material of my panties, reaching for the sensitive bud at my core. I moaned at his touch, his thumb circling the bundle of nerves with a skilled mixture of deep and gentle pressure. Feather light sweeps followed measured rubs. I was already writhing when he dipped a finger into my hot opening. I gasped, lifting my hips to meet his probe, out of my mind with the desire to come.
He murmured against my mouth. “Christ, Alayna, you’re wet. Ah, so wet. You’re driving me crazy with your sounds and how wet you are for me.” He dragged my juice up and over my clit, then rammed two fingers inside me, luring a series of whimpers from my body. One more brush of my clit and I was over the edge, my orgasm spurring me to convulsions.
But even as I came over his hand, Hudson didn’t stop his assault. “God, you come so easily.” His voice betrayed his amazement and his own longing. “I have to make you do that again.”
He slipped off my panties while I still shuddered. “Lean your elbows back on the counter,” he commanded.
I did, grateful for the support it gave me. Then Hudson put his hands on my knees and spread my legs apart, opening me further. Before I realized what was happening, his fingers returned to my hole—three of them now—and his tongue was on my clit.
“Fuck!” I cried, unable to bear another climax, unable to live without it.
His skilled fingers fucked me, plunging in and pulling out in long, steady strokes as he sucked and licked at my cleft. I clutched the end of the counter behind me as I felt the ripple of another orgasm overtake me, all my muscles tightening, my core clenching around his fingers.
Still, he fed on me, lapping up the evidence of my ecstasy, caressing my
tender nerves with his tongue with endless devotion. It was so much—too much. A third climax tore through me, right on the heels of the last. I threw my head back, trembling violently and cried out—a curse, maybe, or his name or unintelligible sounds, too mindless to identify the details of my cry.
When my vision cleared and my brain returned, I found Hudson holding me, whispering at my ear, my scent wafting off his lips. “You’re so sexy, precious. So fucking sexy and soon I’m going to come with you just like that.”
My fingers clutched at tufts of his hair.
“Soon,” he promised. “And often.”
Chapter Seven
When I’d recovered enough to sit without support, Hudson left me, returning with a wet washcloth. I watched as he wiped the insides of my legs and my sex, the warmth of the cloth and the intimacy of the action transfixing me.
“Thank you,” I said when he met my gaze, my gratitude extending beyond the cleansing.
He kissed me, my taste clinging to his tongue. Though sated, arousal began anew at the touch of his lips and the awareness of the bulge in his suit pants.
Too soon he pulled away. “You’re welcome.”
I followed him with my eyes as he walked to the bedroom and threw the washcloth in a tall, black laundry basket. When he looked back, he caught me staring and winked.
I blushed. The new familiarity he had with my body made me feel awkward. Scrambling to compose myself, I fumbled with the buttons of my dress. Then I slid off the barstool, found my underwear on the floor and stuffed them into my purse.
He raised a questioning brow as he straightened his tie.
“My panties are, um, soaked.” I noted his expression of satisfaction. “I can’t wear them.”
A frown replaced his smile. “You can’t work without them. Your dress is too short.”
“I’ll be careful. I don’t mind.”
“I do.” Hudson approached me, putting his hands on my upper arms. “Alayna, you not wearing panties is very sexy. When I’m with you. I definitely don’t think it’s sexy knowing you’re bare and surrounded by a bunch of grabby drunk customers.” He was stern, as though he were reprimanding a wayward child. “In fact, it makes me very unhappy.”
Well, well. Hudson had a jealous streak. Could he be any hotter?
But I couldn’t have him infiltrating all aspects of my life. He’d already insisted on a driver. And weighed in on my wardrobe choices. I stood my ground. “I can take care of myself.”
He folded his arms over his chest.
I mirrored him. “I’m not putting on soaking wet panties. I’ll smell like sex all night and let me tell you what that does to a bunch of grabby drunk customers.”
He scowled. “Leave them then. I can at least have them laundered.”
I held out my panties for him. “If you wanted a memento all you had to do was ask.”
He took them, his expression still tight. “I’m not keeping them. Excuse me a moment and I’ll be ready to go.” He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door open.
“You’ll be ‘ready to go’?” I hadn’t expected him to be going with me. He didn’t respond, though, or I didn’t hear his answer over the sounds of water running.
“Did you say something?” he asked when he returned. He put on his suit jacket and held his hand out to me.
I took his hand, realizing he no longer smelled like me, his hands washed and his teeth freshly brushed. It was practical, but I deflated as he officially distanced himself from the passionate scene of moments before. “I hadn’t realized you were going to the club.”
“I am.” He pulled me through a main door into a corridor with another elevator. This one, I guessed, led to the main lobby instead of his office. He let go of my hand and pushed the call button. “Is that a problem?”
I shrugged though I wanted to say, Hell yes, it’s a problem. You befuddle and dazzle and distract. How could I present my ideas with Hudson’s hot eyes on me, staring at his incredibly wicked mouth that had recently devoured me with such skill? Especially when his hot eyes and wicked mouth gave no indication that anything out of the ordinary had occurred.
Unwilling to be that honest but unable to let it go, I pushed. “Why did you have me meet you here when you could have met me at the club?”
“Privacy, Alayna. I can’t imagine you would want to experience that at the club, would you?” The doors opened and he ushered me into the elevator. “Do you regret coming?” The smile in his tone emphasized the double meaning in his words.
“No,” I answered quickly as he pushed the L button. “I regret you not coming.” I couldn’t think of a time when a man had let me take all the pleasure without receiving any of his own. It made me feel even more vulnerable in front of him.
“You’ll have opportunities to rectify that.”
And then thoughts of rectifying that raced through my mind, touching Hudson’s naked body, his shaft in my hands…
My sex felt swollen and needy. Again.
Damn. Not what I needed at the moment. I had to get my head in the game. Which would be easier without the object of my desire standing next to me, his arm brushing at my shoulder. “Just after all your talk about not being my boss and all that, I didn’t think you’d show.”
“David may want advice. I should be there.” He peered down at me. “Also, I’m curious. Is that going to bother you?”
“I wasn’t prepared. That’s all.”
His eyes lit with understanding. “You’re nervous.”
“Yes.”
He shifted behind me, wrapping me into his arms. “Don’t be. You’re perfect. You’ll be perfect.”
I sunk into him. That’s what I’d needed—his touch after such an intimate act. I’d felt bereft and exposed. I needed reassurance, not just about the business presentation I was about to give, but about his feelings, or attraction, or whatever it was he had for me.
As we descended, I turned my thoughts to David and the presentation I was about to give. Oh, god, David. A new horror struck me. “Could we…?” I didn’t know how to ask what I wanted to ask. “Do we have to, um, do the pretend thing today?”
“You don’t want David to give you extra points because he thinks you’re dating his boss.”
“Right.” And since I still might marry David one day, my sham with Hudson required delicacy. Though the idea of marrying David sounded less appealing than it once had.
“We can keep it under wraps for a day or two, if you’d rather.”
“Thanks.” Anxiety crept into my belly as I wondered how I planned to balance the men in my life and all the facets of my relationships with them: the fake romance with Hudson, the wannabe future with David, the severing of dependence on Brian, the real sex with Hudson, the possible promotion from David. I shivered and pulled Hudson’s arms tighter around me.
He misread my anxiety. “You know what they say to do about nervousness,” he whispered in my ear. “Imagine your audience naked.”
I raised my brows. “You and David?”
“No, precious. Just me. That’s an order.”
Hudson’s commanding tone sent a trickle of desire to pool between my thighs. Somehow I didn’t think picturing him naked would be any help.
Jordan waited for us on the street in front of the building in a black Maybach 57. I’d never been in a luxury car and my natural reaction would have been to gush and salivate, but I held in my enthusiasm, trying to appear more unaffected than I actually was. I did recline my seat, taking advantage of the footrest, while Hudson attended to some work issues. He typed away on his Blackberry and made several phone calls.
I should have been focusing on my presentation, but listening to him conduct business fascinated me, his commanding tone and demand for respect radiated so naturally in even the simplest directives. Usually when he spoke like that to me, I felt shaken and off-balance. But when I witnessed him speaking that way to others, or perhaps because of what had transpired between us, I felt empowered. As if I
could embody those qualities myself through osmosis.
We arrived at the club five minutes before the scheduled meeting. Hudson stayed in the car for a while, allowing me to go in first instead of together. In the office, I found David setting up my laptop.
“Hey,” he said in greeting. “Are you ready to show off those brilliant brains of yours?”
I wondered if David knew about Hudson’s plan to attend or not. Either way, I didn’t want him to know I knew. “Should I start?”
“No, Pierce said he might come. You should give him a few minutes.”
Hudson walked in seconds later. “David,” he said, shaking his hand. “Alayna.” He nodded at me, and I wondered if this was out of consideration to me, knowing that his touch drove me beyond distraction. Or did touching me do the same thing to him? I couldn’t imagine that could be true—he compartmentalized so naturally, I had to think his thoughts were sincerely only on the moment at hand.
Beginning my presentation of ideas took the most effort, but with my PowerPoint slides to rely on, I easily fell into the zone, soon forgetting my audience. First, I focused on the operational aspects of The Sky Launch, items that threatened our competitiveness with other clubs, suggesting an increase in hours and days we were open, a retraining of key personnel, and a unified mode of operation between bartenders and wait staff. Then I moved to marketing recommendations, emphasizing a total rebranding with a spotlight on the bubble rooms.
I spoke for nearly an hour and a half. Sometimes David asked questions, and I answered confidently and succinctly. I knew The Sky Launch. I knew business. I knew what would make the club a rockin’ place. I felt good.
Except for occasionally asking for clarification, Hudson remained quiet and attentive. When I finished, I looked to him, hoping for feedback or praise or a reaction of some sort.
Instead, he looked at his watch. “David, I have some place I need to be now. You can call me tomorrow if you want to discuss these ideas.”
The endorphins of presentation performance weren’t enough to shelter me from the defeat of Hudson’s lack of acknowledgement. Had I completely sucked shit? Did smart girls turn him off? And where did he have to be at eight o’clock on a Thursday night?