by Marni Mann
She dropped the blanket from her body and turned around, crawling toward the top of the table.
Now that her ass was facing me, I stepped out of my pants, leaving my shirt on the floor right next to them. Once I was naked, I pulled her closer to the edge, and I soaked my fingers with spit from my mouth and rubbed them around her ass. When I knew it was lubed enough, I did the same to my cock, mixing it with her spit that was already there, and I gently drove in just a few inches.
“Hudson,” she hissed.
I hissed right back at how fucking tight she was, how good she felt around my dick.
It didn’t feel the same for her, but it would soon; she just needed to get used to it.
Slowly, I moved in a few inches more, and I continued sliding in until I was fully buried. I stayed still for several seconds, her ass pulsing around me.
When she pulled out to the center of my shaft and pushed back in, I knew she was ready.
“That fucking ass,” I said as I took over, working all the way in. “Damn it, you’re still so tight.”
Within a few thrusts, she was screaming, “Harder!”
That was all I needed to hear.
I reared my hips back and bucked in. I felt her squeeze my cock when I was fully inside her. “Touch your clit,” I ordered.
Her hand dipped between her legs, and I saw the movement of her elbow and forearm as she circled that hard little bud.
“Rub that fucking clit, Scarlett,” I told her. My balls were tightening. A tingling feeling was spreading into my stomach. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes.”
“Then, tell me you’ll move in with me.”
“Hudson, don’t be ridiculous.”
I increased my speed, nearing her toward that edge I knew she was already so close to. “Tell me, Scarlett. I want to hear that you’re going to wake up next to me every morning.”
She groaned. “I’ll think about it.”
“Not good enough.”
I slid in and out several more times before she laughed and said, “Fine. I’ll move in with you.”
I knew I’d eventually get what I wanted.
Because I knew it was what she wanted, too.
I growled from her response and gave her even more power.
“Oh God,” she moaned. “Hudson, yesss.”
Her thighs shook as the orgasm took ahold of her. Her ass quivered from the sensation, clenching me while I shot my first load. A burst of intense pleasure blasted through me each time I added to it until I fully emptied myself.
Just as I slid out, I turned her around and sat her on the table.
I set my hands on her face and pulled her close. “I’m going to clean you up, and then we’re going home.”
“Mmm,” she breathed, rubbing her nose against mine, her breath covering me. “I love the sound of that.”
Acknowledgments
Jovana Shirley, I could never do this without you. I say that at the end of every book, and the words couldn’t be truer. You’re just incredible in every way, and I’m so grateful for everything you have done and continue to do. Love you. XO
Nina Grinstead, I love you more than anything. You’re the most amazing publicist and friend. I can’t imagine this journey with anyone but you.
Judy Zweifel, you rock my whole world. Thank you for everything, always.
Kaitie Reister, I love you, girl, so hard. You’re my biggest cheerleader, and you’re such a wonderful friend. Thank you for being you. XO
Letitia, I’m so in love with your work. You nailed this one, lady.
Kimmi Street, my soul sister, I love you more than anything.
Crystal Radaker, this book wouldn’t have happened, nor would I have survived if it wasn’t for you. You stayed right by my side during all those late nights, living off no sleep just so I could finish. That’s love. Your friendship means more to me than you’ll ever know. Love you so much.
Nikki Terrill and Andrea Lefkowitz, you two are incredible. Thanks for all your help, all the laughs, all the fantastic advice. I love having you two on this ride. XO
Extra-special love goes to Donna Cooksley Sanderson, Ratula Roy, Stacey Jacovina, Jesse James, Kayti McGee, Carol Nevarez, Julie Vaden, Elizabeth Kelley, RC Boldt, Jennifer Porpora, Melissa Mann, Pat Mann, Katie Amanatidis, my COPA ladies, and my group of Sarasota girls whom I love more than anything. I’m so grateful for all of you.
Mom and Dad, thanks for your unwavering belief in me and your constant encouragement. It means more than you’ll ever know.
Brian, my words could never dent the amount of love you give me. Trust me when I say, I love you more.
My Midnighters, you are such a supportive, loving, motivating group. Thanks for being such an inspiration, for holding my hand when I need it, and for always begging for more words. I love you all.
To all the bloggers who read, review, share, post, tweet, Instagram—Thank you, thank you, thank you will never be enough. You do so much for our writing community, and we’re so appreciative.
To my readers—I cherish each and every one of you. I’m so grateful for all the love you show my books, for taking the time to reach out to me, and for your passion and enthusiasm. I love, love, love you.
Marni’s Midnighters
Getting to know my readers is one of my favorite parts about being an author. In Marni’s Midnighters, my private Facebook group, we chat about steamy books, sexy and taboo toys, and sensual book boyfriends. Team members also qualify for exclusive giveaways and are the first to receive sneak peeks of the projects I’m currently working on. To join Marni’s Midnighters, click HERE.
About the Author
Best-selling author Marni Mann knew she was going to be a writer since middle school. While other girls her age were daydreaming about teenage pop stars, Marni was fantasizing about penning her first novel. She crafts sexy, titillating stories that weave together her love of darkness, mystery, passion, and human emotions. A New Englander at heart, she now lives in Sarasota, Florida, with her husband and their two dogs. When she’s not nose deep in her laptop, working on her next novel, she’s scouring for chocolate, sipping wine, traveling, or devouring fabulous books.
Want to get in touch? Visit me at…
www.marnismann.com
[email protected]
Also by Marni Mann
STAND-ALONE NOVELS
Signed (Erotic Romance)
Endorsed (Erotic Romance)
Contracted (Erotic Romance)
The Unblocked Collection (Erotic Romance)
Wild Aces (Erotic Romance)
Prisoned (Dark Erotic Thriller)
THE PRISONED SPIN-OFF DUET—Dark Erotic Thriller
Animal—Book One
Monster—Book Two
THE SHADOWS SERIES—Erotica
Seductive Shadows—Book One
Seductive Secrecy—Book Two
THE BAR HARBOR SERIES—New Adult
Pulled Beneath—Book One
Pulled Within—Book Two
THE MEMOIR SERIES—Dark Fiction
Memoirs Aren’t Fairytales—Book One
Scars from a Memoir—Book Two
NOVELS COWRITTEN WITH GIA RILEY
Lover (Erotic Romance)
Drowning (Contemporary Romance)
Sneak Peek of Seductive Shadows
Flip the page for a sneak peek of Seductive Shadows, which is available now!
Chapter One
Whenever I’d ridden the train as a kid, I would press my nose against the glass and stare at a tree until it passed the window’s width and disappeared from my view. I’d always been attracted to their sexiness, how their leaves swayed in the air like hips until they dipped to the ground, how their trunks were thick and hard with the bark serving as a protective sleeve, how they had been able to grow and sprout from just a tiny seed. I wanted to know every detail—the density of the bark, how the branches could curve and bow without snapping, the exact color of each leaf.
; My eyes didn’t follow trees anymore; they followed bodies. Flesh pulsed in front of me. I yearned to know its texture, the thickness of hair, the cracks in each lip, the depth of large pores. I longed to count the hidden freckles. Certain faces became inspirations, and my fingers twitched to turn them into art. But, as quickly as they filled my vision and transformed into fantasies of color on canvas, I exhaled them back into the air and moved on. Every blink was a good-bye.
As the train entered the tunnel, my stare shifted from the window to the man sitting across from me. His face was pointed down as he read on his phone, but his fingers were in full view. His nails were rounded, filed, with hair running over each knuckle. It was fine enough that I knew it would tickle. The top of his head was gelled into thick spikes that could poke and drag. The strands looked wet; he must have gotten caught in the storm, like me, without an umbrella. My hands twitched. I didn’t have a sketchpad, and there was no paper or pencils in my bag. But it wasn’t art they were after.
He lifted his head. His smile revealed perfect teeth; his hazel eyes gleamed. As his lips parted, my phone went off in my back pocket. His tongue curved and flicked against his teeth while he spoke to the woman next to him. I let my cell ring and ring, vibrating against my ass as I zoomed in on what was happening inside his mouth. His tongue moved gracefully in and out; the tip of it teased me, calling me, tauntingly offering sensual promises.
The tingle was back…and it was strong.
I crossed my legs, tightening my thighs to feel the friction. The rain had mixed with my lotion; my legs were slick, and the sensation of skin against skin gave me goose bumps. My pupils stroked his fingers as I grasped the metal bar by the train’s door. It had more girth than I needed, more than I was used to having in my grip, but I still squeezed. I imagined this stranger’s sounds filling my head, wordless speech that would be as powerful as verbal commands. Sweat simmered across my chest, joining the raindrops.
My cell rang again. It was Lilly—again—and I knew what she wanted. It was always the same, and so was my response. I pulled out the phone and clicked Ignore. That stopped the ringing but not the vibrating. I slid it into my front pocket. As my shorts shimmied, my eyes focused on the possibilities of his arched knuckles, on the tapping of his finger pads against the screen.
Warmness began to spread. My fingers clutched the pole even harder. But, as much as I concentrated, I couldn’t push Lilly out of my thoughts. Ignoring her call had caused a ghost of a memory to flash in my head. It was of that day and of all the times Emma had let her mom’s calls go to voice mail. Mrs. Hunt had been so insistent. Just like Lilly was being today.
As I opened Emma’s passenger door, I took a deep breath. The smell made me smile. I rode in her Benz at least twice a day, and I always had the same reaction. It wasn’t fresh leather, like most new cars; this was citrus and baked bread, the same scent as her house. I didn’t live at the Hunts’, but it was the closest thing I had to a home. And, whenever I left and returned to my apartment—to my mother, Lilly—the smell would come with me. At night, I would lay my face on my long locks and inhale, waiting for the scent to put me to sleep. Like Emma’s voice, her presence, and Mrs. Hunt’s hugs, it was comfort.
Emma’s phone rang from inside her purse. She had a different ringtone for everyone. This was one of the sounds I had memorized. Her Prada was on the floor, by my feet, so I reached inside and grabbed it.
“Let it go to voice mail,” she said.
“You’re still ignoring your mom?”
“She’s even crazier than she was last week.” She let out a long sigh and shook her head. “I checked my phone at lunch…six texts, Charlie. Six!”
“Maybe it’s something important?”
“Napkins! They were all about napkins! I don’t give a shit what color she chooses. I just want to get the hell out of Boston.”
“So do I,” I whispered.
In a few months, Emma and I would be starting college at Arizona State, and we were going to be roommates. Like she had done for her son, Mrs. Hunt was throwing Emma a graduation party and had been planning it since Christmas. With only two weeks left until the event, she was bombarding Emma with decisions. Having been to her brother’s party, I wasn’t surprised. But Emma didn’t want any of it—not the fire dancers, not the two hundred people attending, and not the silk napkins that Mrs. Hunt preferred over the “tacky” cotton ones. She wanted to quietly graduate from Newton North High School and spend the summer on Nantasket Beach, as we did every year.
As she pulled up to the curb in front of the psychic’s house, her phone rang again. She looked at me with her teeth clenched and shook her head. “I’ll deal with her after our reading.”
The jerking of the train startled me from my daydream.
I am in Boston, I reminded myself while tears blurred my vision.
Emma had been like one of the trees my eyes followed as a kid. Every morning, I had been greeted by her tiny frame, wavy blonde hair, and eyes the color of a stormy sky. Her voice had been my good night.
My front pocket vibrated again, a rattle that startled me even more than the jerking train. Its beat slithered across my navel and licked around my thighs. My stare moved back to the man across from me. He was looking out the window behind me as his tongue dampened his bottom lip. Something inside me began to melt.
I took a deep breath and put the phone to my ear. “I’m on my way home.”
“Charlie, I need—”
“I know what you need. I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I said and hung up.
Lilly knew that today was the five-year anniversary of my accident, though she didn’t acknowledge it. I wasn’t angry with her for that. Her way had always been to only look forward, letting days and months serve as the milestones in her life rather than her memories. But for one day—this day—I wanted to sit on the grass with Emma. To just sit until it started to rain and not have my phone ring. I wanted a moment, a breath, and a bit of silence.
Lilly couldn’t give me that.
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