Embrace Me

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Embrace Me Page 2

by Ann Marie Walker

“Nah, he’s just cool. Better than that stuffed shirt of an assistant you got shuffling papers.”

  “Darren does a lot more than shuffle papers. And he’s proficient at his job.” Hudson thumbed the alarm and shoved the key fob into his front pocket.

  “Yeah, but the sense of humor of a paper napkin.”

  “A sense of humor was neither a prerequisite, nor is one encouraged.”

  “And you want me to come work for you?” Nick laughed. “Fuck no.”

  “Less talk, more walk.” Hudson was running on adrenaline and instinct while Nick was dragging his heels and doing what appeared to be some sort of comedy routine. “I mean it, Nicky, get the lead out.”

  Hudson’s strides were long and measured as he beat a path around the brick building. He was so not cool with what he could only imagine was going down inside the joint, and his mood didn’t improve as he passed the marquee posters advertising the club’s featured performers. Christ, women had a lot of nerve giving men a hard time for strippers. This shit was cheesy as hell.

  Nick belted out a snort as he checked out the ads. “Shit balls and dick tips, they have a firefighter, a navy dude, and a cop. It’s the freaking Village People!” He jogged a few steps, trying to catch up to Hudson. “The cop is so your speed, bro. You have perpetrator written all over you.”

  Hudson’s jaw clenched and a shooting pain racked his temple. Dealing with Nick’s wisecracks was trying enough, but the redhead had upped the night’s ante. His wife was inside making it rain dollars and he was about to show up unannounced? Yeah, not a good turn of events.

  But welcome or not, he was putting an end to whatever was going on in there.

  They turned the corner and Hudson came to an abrupt stop. His feet finally moving as fast as his tongue, Nick crashed into him, catching the eye of the bouncer who’d been inspecting the line of ladies waiting to get inside. The guy was the size of a small car, and judging by the bulge in the sleeve of his suit coat, he could probably bench press one as well. Hudson blew out a breath. He wasn’t in the mood to get into some storytelling event on why he wanted to enter a club that catered almost exclusively to female clientele, let alone explain why he needed to circumvent the line. Instead, he let Ben Franklin speak on his behalf.

  Reaching into the ass pocket of his jeans, he pulled his wallet out and casually slid a hundred dollar bill from the stack of cash. It took about two seconds for the bouncer to size up the situation. He looked down at the C-note, then jerked his chin toward the door as he swiped the bill from Hudson’s palm. They were in.

  Hudson swung the door open. A rolling bass and the sound of screaming women tore through the opening, and all at once he wished he could push it closed.

  “Yo, VIP, let’s kick it.” Nick sauntered in, obviously attempting to modify Hudson’s already agitated, if not a level below violent, state.

  “This is a male strip club.”

  “I know, but do you hear the song? Vanilla Ice, ice, baby.” Nick did some dance that got the attention of a couple cougars singing along while waving cash at whichever Channing Tatum wannabe was closest.

  A dancer at the end of a runway ripped his white tank in half, then flung the tattered pieces into a tangle of women who fought over it more than any bouquet he’d ever seen tossed. On the club floor bodies moved in pairs, sometimes threesomes, while pop-rap filled the thick, perfumed air. The vibe was all about sex; wanting it, selling it, hoping to get a single night of it that ultimately only left you feeling more lonely than before. Been there, done that. But everything had changed for him now. Allie had brought substance to his life. She was the only woman he wanted in his bed, or anywhere else for that matter.

  After Hudson’s eyes adjusted to the darkness—the flashing spotlight nearly blinding him in the process—a movement at the front of the club caught his attention, and his gaze shifted in the direction of the main stage. Allie. She was up front and fucking center. And a half-naked man was grinding against her.

  In that split second, Nick cut the shtick. “Hudson.” His tone dropped a notch into calm, cool, and serious. “They’re having fun, man. Let’s go shoot some pool, hang out at your pad.”

  Christ, he knew his little brother was hitting the rational, logical part of his brain, especially given that Harper was the more enthusiastic participant. But fuck, his egocentric, territorial nature was eradicating all control, not to mention common sense.

  “Seriously, bro. Major buzzkill to have your bachelorette party crushed by Mr. Hubby. Let it be.”

  Count to ten.

  Calm the hell down.

  Find comfort that she is with her best friend.

  As if he’d fucking read Hudson’s mind, Nick added, “Harper won’t let anything happen to her. That’s a solid girl right there.”

  “You have a bias.” But even as Hudson said the words, he knew his brother was speaking the truth. Harper had been at Hudson’s side in France, helping him when Julian had threatened to end not only their happiness, but their lives.

  Nick gave Hudson’s elbow a nudge. “Let’s roll, bro.”

  Not a chance in hell.

  He was there and so was Allie. And he wasn’t leaving without her.

  Hudson straightened his shoulders to shake off his brother’s lingering words. He scanned the dense crowd of screaming women, his gaze settling on the area of flashing lights where his wife was busy stuffing bills into some poor excuse of a white Speedo. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.

  What he assumed was Nick’s hand landed on his arm, trying to stop him, but his reasoning became lost in the thumping music. And when Mr. Speedo straddled Allie’s lap . . .

  “Stay here,” Hudson barked, giving his brother the brush-off before moving forward like a charging bull. He was going to kill that fucking prick or at lease turn him into a sack of vegetables.

  Hudson zigzagged around a booth, between tables littered with colorful cocktails, and in an uncharacteristically warped sense of reality, might have even endured having his ass grabbed. Sweet hell, this was not happening.

  By the time he reached Allie she was shoving the last of her cash into the idiot’s cock sling. He came to a halt behind her, widened his stance, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Harper’s gaze shifted up and zeroed in on him. “Oh, fuck,” she mouthed.

  * * *

  A familiar hand settled on Allie’s shoulder and squeezed. “Need a few more singles, Mrs. Chase?”

  Across from her, Harper sat with a phallic straw perched in front of her gaping mouth. Her eyes had grown the size of enormous green saucers, and for the first time in her life she appeared to be at a loss for words. But despite her best friend’s dramatic reaction, it was the man behind her who commanded Allie’s full attention, just as he had all those months ago when they’d first reconnected.

  Of course, she’d known the moment he’d arrived at the club. There was an energy that surrounded Hudson wherever he went, a near tangible force so potent she could almost see it pulse in the air around him. When she’d turned to find him standing behind her that night at the Field Museum, the mere sight of him had taken her breath away. Everything about him had called to her on the most primitive level. From the way he ran his fingers through his dark, unruly hair, to the intensity in his gaze when he locked his blue eyes on hers, to the way his body moved beneath his well-tailored tuxedo. Even after ten years, the connection they’d felt as teens had remained and none of the obstacles they’d faced over the past seven months had done anything to lessen its effect.

  “Show’s over.” Hudson pulled a few bills out of his wallet and dropped them on the table. Unfazed, the cowboy gyrating in front of them gathered the cash, tucking it into his white G-string before winding his lasso around a brunette at the next table.

  “What are you doing here?” Harper managed to squeak.

  Ignoring her
question, Hudson leaned over to whisper in Allie’s ear. “Let’s go.” His voice was low and laced with a barely leashed restraint.

  Allie rose without saying a word. She met Harper’s lifted brows with a smile and a shrug but in reality she knew exactly what was going on. The look on Hudson’s face left no room for doubt. He was angry, yes, but he’d channeled it in a different direction and gone all alpha male, his body vibrating with a heady mix of possessive arousal. And while Allie had no idea what was going to happen next, one thing was certain: it was going to be a wild ride.

  Hudson placed his hand on the small of Allie’s back as he guided her toward the rear of the club. Behind her Allie heard a commotion she could only assume was Harper scrambling to follow. In front of her Nick stood just inside the doorway under the watchful eye of a very large, very intimidating bouncer. The African-American man had his arms crossed, accentuating the size of his biceps and making him look even more formidable. Nick, on the other hand, had his fists shoved deep into the pockets of his cargo pants as he bounced ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. His hair fell in disarray around his face as he chewed his bottom lip, and for a split second Allie was taken back to a small-town carnival and a young boy anxious to have his big brother help him win the perfect prize. It was as if the years had melted away. But then Nick opened his mouth, bringing Allie out of the past and right back to the very surreal present.

  “Finally, dude. What the hell took you so long? I mean, I know you weren’t getting a lap dance.” The unease in Nick’s eyes faded to a mixture of mischief and amusement. “Or were you?”

  Hudson frowned. “See that the redhead gets home.”

  “Wait, what?” Nick sputtered. He ran a hand back through his dark brown curls. Wayward hair was a trait the two brothers shared, although the younger Chase wore his much longer. “You’re calling it a night? It’s like nine o’clock.”

  Hudson silenced his brother’s protests with one look, then turned his attention to Allie. “How did you get here?”

  “We took the limo.”

  Hudson gave a tight nod. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a key fob, and flipped it at Nick, who caught it against his chest. When Nick realized what was in his hands his eyes grew even wider than when Hudson had finally beaten that carnival game.

  “Holy shit, you’re letting me drive the Aston?”

  “Not a scratch or you’re dead.”

  “I swear, bro, she’ll be in good hands.”

  Hudson reached for Allie’s hand, entwining his fingers with hers just as Harper appeared at Nick’s side.

  “Not you too?” She was slightly out of breath and doing her best to juggle her oversize purse along with their two half-empty cocktails.

  Nick’s hands flew up as though someone had just pointed a gun at him. “Hey, don’t look at me, babe. I’m just along for the ride,” he said with a chuckle. “Mr. Intense got a phone call and now here we are.”

  “Well, I never thought I’d say this but ‘fancy seeing you here’,” she said with a giggle.

  Nick hooked his arm around Harper’s neck and pulled her close enough to plant a big smacking kiss on her temple. The sudden movement sent daiquiri sloshing over the edge of her hurricane glass, but Harper couldn’t have cared less.

  “Believe me,” Nick said, “I never, ever, ever wanted to see this much dick, but it’s totally worth it because lookie what I have.” He spun the keys to the Aston Martin around his finger. “Your chariot awaits, madam.” He bowed with an exaggerated flourish, then straightened with a new idea. “Hey, want to grab some Portillo’s drive-thru on the way home?”

  A growl vibrated through Hudson’s body. “Don’t even—”

  Nick erupted into a loud laugh. “Kidding, bro. Jesus, you should have seen your face. Don’t stroke out on me. Allie would never forgive me.”

  “Stop talking before I change my mind,” Hudson said. His fingers tightened around Allie’s and then they were moving. Fast. Faster than Allie’s heels could manage. She did her best to keep up as he practically dragged her down a narrow passage, then through a door that lead to the alley out back.

  She stumbled when her shoe caught on an uneven section of asphalt. “Slow down, Hudson.”

  He spun to face her, and within seconds she was in his arms, the hard planes of his body crushing her against the alley’s brick wall. Both hands framed her face as Hudson sealed his mouth over hers. His tongue pushed passed her lips, taking her in a lush, deep kiss she felt echo to her very core. Allie’s hands found their way into his hair, her fingers twisting through the dark waves, trying in vain to hold him to her when he broke their kiss.

  His face hovered mere inches from hers. “You’ve been a bad girl tonight,” he rasped.

  Just those few roughly spoken words had her heart racing with excitement. Hudson was in control and she wouldn’t have it any other way. In the boardroom she stood her ground, going toe-to-toe with her stubborn husband on a wide range of issues. But in the bedroom he was her dominant lover, and although there was a time she would have never considered such behavior a turn-on, there was no denying the effect it had on her. There was a freedom in surrendering herself to him, a liberating sense of self unlike anything she’d ever experienced. With Hudson she was able to let go of her inhibitions and explore the wanton lust only he could evoke.

  A soft moan escaped her lips as he ran his tongue up the column of her throat.

  She hadn’t expected him to show up at her bachelorette party and had certainly never imagined him dragging her out of the club cave-man style. But there he was, touching her, kissing her, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted him.

  “Did you enjoy having those men rubbing themselves all over you?” The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her through the soft fabric of her skirt. Behind them a muffled bass beat a hypnotic rhythm through the club’s darkened windows. It pounded through them, urging her to grind her body against him.

  “It’s only you, Hudson. It’s always been only you.”

  “You can prove it to me when we get home.” He stepped back, leaving her warm and wanting, to reveal their limo idling behind him. He reached for the handle and gave the door a hard yank. “After you.”

  Allie slid across the leather bench with Hudson close behind. Before he had even settled onto the seat, she was in his lap. “We don’t have to wait until we get home.” She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged.

  A deep, primitive sound vibrated in the back of Hudson’s throat as she left a trail of openmouthed kisses across his jaw. One hand fisted in her hair while the other cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her taut nipple. “You smell like them,” he rasped against her ear.

  “Then mark me, make me smell like you . . . like us.”

  Hudson’s grip tightened in her hair and he tugged her head back to meet his gaze. No doubt he was assessing her mood and deciding just how far he was going to take them. She loved him gentle, but she loved him like this almost as much, if not more. Because in these moments she knew he craved her with an intensity that went far beyond the physical; it was an overwhelming need to possess her—mind, body, and soul. It was a need that perfectly matched her own and it was what allowed her to trust him so completely.

  He was utterly still but for the heavy rise and fall of this chest. When he finally spoke it wasn’t a request, but a command. “On your back,” he said. “Show me what’s mine.”

  Allie complied without a moment’s hesitation. She fell back against the seat, her pulse pounding at the thought of what was to come. Hudson’s hungry gaze followed her every movement as she slid her skirt up, revealing the lace top of her thigh-high stockings in the process. “I’d intended these as a little surprise for later,” she whispered.

  “Keep going,” he urged. His voice was void of any emotion but the fire in his eyes betrayed the heat
ed passion raging beneath his calm exterior. “Everything but the stockings and heels.”

  She shimmied out of her panties, tossing them to the side along with her dress.

  Hudson dropped to his knees on the floor of the limo. His hands went to his pants, releasing the impressive erection that had been straining against his fly. “I’m going to mark you, but first I need to taste and fuck you.” With a hard yank he spread her legs, leaving her aching core exposed and his for the taking. He licked the length of her sex and her body arched. His hands curled around her upper thighs, pinning her to the seat as he began to trace her folds with the tip of his tongue. She wanted to move, to writhe against his body in search of the friction she craved. But held down as she was, she was helpless to do anything but submit to whatever delicious torture he had in mind.

  “You’re going to come in my mouth and on my cock until you’re begging me to stop.” His words held more promise than threat as they vibrated against her sensitive flesh. There was nothing gentle about the way he consumed her, as if he was driven by a desperate need to give her pleasure, and there was nothing gentle about the way her body responded. She climaxed quickly and almost violently, her fingers clutching fistfuls of his hair as she came on a thready cry. He didn’t let up. Instead he held her firmly in place, licking, nipping, and sucking until she could take no more.

  “Please, Hudson,” she panted.

  He surged forward, his tongue plunging into her mouth at the same time his cock thrust inside her body. She cried out as he began a punishing rhythm, relentless in his quest to make good on his promise to have her coming again and again. He fucked her hard, surging into her like a man possessed by a need to own, to claim, and to conquer. When she was near mindless from pleasure he reared back, gazing down at her trembling body as he took his cock in hand. He said nothing; he just watched her, his eyes dark with desire as he stroked his erection from root to tip. She watched as his gaze lost focus, then his lips parted on a sharp intake of air as he came, his release covering her in long, hot streams.

 

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