by JC Harroway
Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging. Her tongue meets mine thrust for thrust. I buck my hips up from the sofa, seeking fiery, hot friction between her legs.
She pulls away, panting. Her eyes are ablaze with arousal that I realise has been simmering there since we platonically embraced this morning.
‘Please tell me you have a condom.’ She pops the top buttons of my shirt and presses her mouth to my neck and chest while her delectable arse wriggles on my thighs.
I drag my wallet from my pocket and locate the foil square before sense deserts me. ‘There’s no rush.’ I want to drag out every second of our stolen time. But we’re only here because of chance and circumstance—if the wind changes again, she might leave.
‘There’s a rush in me.’ She kisses me and takes the condom. ‘I’ve been thinking about this since we closed our laptops.’
Her confession—knowing she wanted this even before the storm changed her plans for the evening—ratchets up my own urgency. I unbutton her blouse to reveal a creamy lace bra covering the perfect breasts I remember. Her nipples are hard peaks, poking through the fabric as if demanding their share of attention. And I’m only too happy to oblige. I wrap my arm around her waist and drag her close, covering one dusky nipple with my mouth.
‘Hudson!’ she cries out. Every gyrating movement of her hips on my lap massages my aching cock. Bliss and torment. But unlike last time, when we were fast and frantic, I want more tonight. I want her naked. I want to see and taste every inch.
I suck her nipple through the lace and then pull the bra down so her breasts are exposed for me. My thumbs trace the distended peaks, the darker areolas puckering in response to my touch.
I lance her with my stare, every bit of me burning hot. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you returned from the bathroom with a button undone.’ I pinch both nipples in unison, rolling them between my fingers and thumbs to let her know I was onto her flirty game from the start.
She gasps, throwing her head back and pushing her breasts into my palms.
‘You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?’ I drop my mouth, first to one breast and then the other, sucking and lapping, forcing little mewls from her throat.
She nods, fumbling with my belt as I treat her sensitive breasts to some more oral torture. ‘Yes. You know I always get what I want.’ Her challenge reminds me why we work so well together in business. Why I know I won’t regret this indulgence. Because, aside from each other in this moment, we want different things.
‘As do I.’ I abandon her breasts and take my belt from her frantic fingers, unbuckling it with speed to release my trapped erection. I allow my eyes to roam, satisfaction ramping up my heart rate. Her skirt is around her waist. Her thighs are spread wide to reveal lacy panties which match the bra. I slide my hands to the tops of her stockings and caress her bare thighs while she palms my cock.
Our stares lock. An erotic challenge.
A thought occurs through the lust fog filling my brain. Why not apply our competitive personalities to tonight? To pleasure? A game of seduction... We’ve been playing it all evening.
Wanting to win, I glide my thumb over the damp crotch of her panties, stroking her softness. ‘Let’s make this interesting—you wanted to play and I’ve already lost once tonight.’
She gasps as I brush over her swollen clit and then she shudders, disrupting her determined tugs on my cock.
‘Whoever comes first must chair tomorrow’s eight a.m. meeting.’ With a grin, I hand her the condom she’s abandoned on the sofa next to us and then shift the lace aside, exposing her folds to my stare.
She drops her head back on a long sigh of surrender as I continue to caress her.
‘You like the idea. You’re wet for me.’ I use my thumbs to part her and then slide two fingers inside her. Her hips undulate in time with my plunging.
‘And you’re hard for me,’ she replies. Her concentration with the condom is no doubt shaken by the way I’m working her higher and higher. With a groan of frustration, or perhaps triumph, she rolls the condom onto my length at last and then braces her hands on my shoulders.
‘Besides, that’s not a fair challenge, because I want to lose.’ She rocks her hips, greedily taking what she needs.
She hates coming in last. But I guess with orgasms it’s a bit different. ‘I’d never leave you hanging, Dove, but be my guest,’ I say, cupping her breast with my free hand and toying the nipple erect. ‘I have no doubt you’ll get your own back, even if you do lose this round.’
‘Oh, I will.’ She gasps as we pleasure each other. Face to face, our defiant stares lock as we see who can get who off first. Everything with Monroe is a competition. And that’s fine by me, because I’m going to win. More than once. Over and over all night long, before the storm finally breaks and we have to pretend tonight never happened.
I look down to where my hand works between her thighs, my fingers swallowed in her tight channel and my thumb working her swollen clit. It’s one erotic sight. Her hand is around my cock, her long nails brightly polished, her delicate fingers gripping me so good in just the right spot. I can’t help the feral growl that rumbles in my throat.
As if we reach the point of no return together, we jolt into action. I snatch my hand from her pussy and grip her hips, shunting her forward. She braces her hand on my shoulder and kneels over me, directing my cock back towards her entrance. And then she sinks, impaling herself, and I push up into her, sweat breaking across my brow at how good she feels and looks and smells.
I bite my tongue to hold in a groan. I claimed to be the better bluffer—I can’t reveal how close she has me.
Our panting breaths mingle as we move together, creating our own storm with frantic thrusts, clenched fingers and the wildness of our locked stares. Arousal streaks across her face. Her dark, glossy hair is a messy tumble around her shoulders. He nipples are thrust into my face, suspended by the cups of her bra.
I bury my face between her breasts and groan out her name as her walls clamp around me. She grips my head and cries out, and the first flutters of her orgasm squeeze me so tight I see stars behind my closed eyes.
I buck up into her and she drops her head back. Her broken cry is a long, ecstatic wail of release that seems to suck in all of the tension from the room like a vacuum.
‘Oh, my... I needed that.’ She presses kisses to my face and then plunges her tongue inside my mouth before I can crow my triumph at having won.
‘You’re welcome. I know how you hate to come last.’
She laughs, but then quickly turns serious, tearing off her bra and blouse and dumping them on the floor. ‘Yes, I do, but I can come again.’
She tugs my shirt open, renewed resolve slashed across her beautiful face, and slides her hands all over my chest, brushing my nipples with her fingernails.
I grip her hips as she rides me, her pelvis rocking and her breasts bouncing. I grip tighter, aware that if her skirt weren’t there as a protective barrier I might bruise her, so desperate is my need to direct her to exactly where I want her. Because I feel as if she’s hunting me down, chasing my orgasm as ruthlessly as she sought her own. Our out-of-control need seems to match the tempest outside.
Monroe wraps her arms around my shoulders and kisses me as I thrust up into her again and again.
She grips the back of the sofa.
‘Hudson... I’m coming again!’ she cries, her face buried in the crook of my neck.
I let go, exploding inside her, filling the condom in hot jets.
Winning never felt so good.
CHAPTER THREE
Monroe
THE QUALITY OF the tenuous dawn light tells me the storm outside has passed. The fantasy exceeded my expectations, but today is a new day. My stomach sinks, emptiness creeping in. I watch Hudson sleep for a few indulgent minutes, my pulse a confused riot.
; His long, sooty lashes form dark crescents on his cheeks, giving him an air of boyish innocence at complete odds with the ruthless sex god who pleasured me over and over. I kind of knew he’d be a phenomenal lover, even three years ago. But what I couldn’t know then, what I’ve rarely witnessed since, is how playful and relaxed Hudson can be. I saw it last night in how he ran me a bath full of bubbles and then climbed in too. How he sent out for burgers when my stomach growled at two a.m., how he invented a new game called ‘lick poker,’ the rules of which are still hazy but basically involved his tongue worshipping every inch of me regardless of what cards were dealt.
This new side to him steals my breath.
He spent all night winning his little orgasm game until, spent and exhausted, I conceded the fight, surrendering my body to his whim so he could wring a string of climaxes from me as ruthlessly as he wrangles billion-pound deals.
And now, our one night is over.
Almost.
I want to stave off reality a little longer. Otherwise guilt over Sterling, doubt over the risk we took with Bold and worry for our ongoing relationship will spoil what was a night to remember.
I gently shuffle down the bed, careful not to wake Hudson. He’ll be insufferably smug if I allow him to end our night together on the high point that was my last—almost coma-inducing—orgasm. Just because he’d turned our chemistry into a seduction challenge doesn’t mean I can’t snatch the final victory.
Under the sheets his cock is semi-hard, a sign that he’ll soon be awake and that my time to exact revenge is dwindling. I press my lips to his silky crown and suck in the musky, manly scent of him. His penis is a work of art—proud and thick. His body twitches in his sleep and I fly into action, my determination to win ramping up my excitement.
I grip his length and take him into my mouth. My tongue laves his head as he grows steely in my hand. My command over his powerful body floods me with triumph.
His hand finds my head, his fingers curling into my hair reflexively as he mumbles sleepily and incoherently. I toss the sheet aside and look up. His eyes are still closed as he clings to the last vestiges of sleep. Time to up the ante.
I scrape my nails along his hard thighs and suck harder. His gasp shoots adrenaline through my blood. His eyes fly open, landing squarely on mine before taking a frantic tour of my mouth wrapped around him.
‘Dove... Fuck, what are you doing?’ His voice is thick with sleep and vulnerability. Awake, Hudson would never allow anyone to see him that way. Pangs of privilege shift in my chest. He’s always in control, so to have him at my mercy sends flutters of longing through my core.
I don’t want to stop. I simply smile around him and hum low in my throat to let him know I’m enjoying myself and fully intend to see this through to the end.
He’s alert now, pushed up on his elbows to take in the view. His hair is deliciously bed-rumpled, his sleepy stare shot through with desire. I cup his balls and his hips jerk off the bed. Oh, he’s sensitive. I like knowing his tiny weaknesses, because the Hudson I’ve known for the past five years rarely displays any chinks in his armour.
His thighs spread wider, his cock jerking in my mouth. I grip his shaft and angle him up so I can take him deeper, an act that draws a long, sexy groan from his throat. But his eyes never leave mine.
This power is addictive. This time I’m going to win, and I’ll enjoy every minute.
‘Dove.’ His voice breaks, a husky warning. ‘I’ll come in your mouth...’
I know from watching him come inside me four times last night that he’s close. I answer with my eyes and my determined sucking. I want him undone. At my mercy just as I was at his last night, with his mouth on me, his length inside me and his talented fingers stroking my body into eager submission.
His hips thrust in time with my bobbing head. He can’t keep still. Even when I’m on top, taking charge, he needs to dictate the pace. That’s Hudson. He’s an alpha.
But it’s my turn to out-seduce him.
I drag my nails up the ladder of his abs to his ripped chest and over his tight nipples while my mouth works him. He grunts. His abs contract. His hands fist in my hair. Fire burns in his eyes.
My heart rate starts its victory lap as I moan out my encouragement. He tries to stave it off. I see the fight in his stare. But I’m too good, too tenacious, and it’s too late for him to win this round. He roars my name and comes in my mouth, his climax making every muscle in his body tense.
I flop down beside him with a huge grin on my face, allowing him a few seconds to catch his breath. ‘I win. I think it’s only fair if the loser gets breakfast.’
Who knew the delicious little pleasure game he started could be so much fun?
It’s almost a shame the sexy challenges must end...
But the shift in weather heralds a new day. We had our night. Now it’s time to return to being business partners.
A violent hollowness rips through my chest. I hide my disappointment by burying my face against the side of his neck. Great sex coming to an end is regretful. But I’ll survive.
He scoops an arm around my waist, hauls me over him and cups my face. I’m pulled down to his kiss, which is as deep and passionate as if he hadn’t just come like a freight train.
‘That was a fantastic way to wake up.’ His sexy voice buzzes against my lips, the tingle transmitted to my nipples.
‘You’re welcome.’ I bite my lip to stop myself from kissing him, hoping to wean myself off quickly and painlessly. ‘I couldn’t have you thinking you’re the only winner around here. It’s not healthy for your ego.’
He chuckles. ‘Ah...the lengths you’ll go to keep up with the pack never ceases to amaze me.’
I drop my chin to my crossed hands, which are on his chest, and laugh. ‘I grew up fighting to keep up. Besides, maybe I lead the pack. Did you think of that?’
‘When it comes to wake-up head, I’d say you do.’ His deep voice rumbles through his chest.
The same urge to snuggle that I had in front of the fire last night roars to life.
To banish the sensation I cannot indulge, I pinch his ribs and roll off him, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. ‘Want to join me in the shower? We’re tight on time.’
Nothing to do with how you’re struggling to keep your hands off, or the fifty-nine minutes we have left before usual business resumes.
He nods and we pad there together, sharing a series of goofy grins. An unforgettable night will do that. And that’s all it can be.
I flick on the shower and swallow the hot ache in my throat I hadn’t expected. Maybe it’s just endorphin addiction. All good things must end, especially this. We’re business partners. There are three of us in that relationship. We can’t afford to allow sex to disrupt the good thing we’ve built together.
And yet it already feels complicated. I don’t want to hurt Sterling and I know Hudson doesn’t either. But in the cold light of day this deception feels somehow seedier. It negates the years of hard work, compromise and communication Sterling and I put in to keep Bold together after our divorce.
No. It was just one storm-bound night. Temporary madness never to be repeated or confessed.
I glance at Hudson, his glorious body wet and his hair slicked back. Does he too have regrets?
I shiver, helpless to resist him when he reaches for me and drags me under the spray, crushing me against his solid body. Even his cock is impressively hard again. His desperation to squeeze the last minutes of pleasure from our time together is perhaps as fierce as mine. He backs me up against the glass and kisses me until I’m gasping and light-headed.
Who knew Hudson could be the whole package? Attentive and caring as well as a first-class lover. His commitment avoidance is the only downside.
Shit, I need to pull myself together. I don’t need dangerous thoughts like that in my head. I know how ha
rd it is to find the one. I’ve been searching for my Prince Charming ever since Mum first read me Cinderella. I’ve already had my fingers burnt in love.
I gently shove him away and reach for his luxury body wash, which smells heavenly and is clearly the source of his usual yummy scent. I douse myself, noting the brand so I can purchase some when I’m back in London—a reminder of this insanely hot night. I tip some over his chest and we massage the suds over each other’s bodies in slow, sensual swipes that feel more like foreplay than washing.
But there’s no time. I can’t chair a meeting flushed with arousal and wearing last night’s clothes.
‘I need to pop back to my hotel before the meeting,’ I say, my body reacting to his caresses with disconcerting eagerness. ‘I can’t meet with Kunosu Tech wearing my ripped skirt.’ I don’t mind chairing the meeting—funding start-up companies is my favourite part of investing. There’s just so much drive and potential.
I clear my tight throat, telling myself how much I value my business and both of my partners. I need to stay grounded. That’s what I tell my greedy body, which pulses with need for one last dose of Hudson’s addictively good touch.
He steps close again, pressing his soap-slicked body to mine and his lips to my neck. ‘Don’t worry.’ His mouth moves over my skin, enticing more ripples through my core. ‘I had your suitcase brought over from the hotel.’ His fingers latch between my legs and he strums my clit so I forget today’s schedule, forget the ticking clock, forget how to breathe.
‘You think of everything.’ I gasp as he centres that ferocious need between my legs.
He cups my cheek, directing my eyes to his, which are intense with hunger. ‘I was thinking of you. All night.’
‘Thank you for the suitcase,’ I whisper, shocked still by his admission. I tell myself it’s only the same consideration I’d show him.
‘My pleasure, Dove. Anything I can do to make your trip memorable and comfortable, just ask. Day or night.’
My throat closes, a stinging sensation building behind my eyes. He keeps this side of himself well hidden. Is that because my history with Sterling makes us an established team? When the three of us are together, Hudson often withdraws, leaving Sterling and me alone. Or has his caring side always been there and I’ve never looked hard enough?