Remind Me

by Ann Marie Walker

  He pushed his hands back through his hair, wiping the sheen of sweat from his brow. He glanced over at the empty space next to him and began to wonder if Allie, breathless as their bodies slid against each other, was all part of a dream, too.

  Fuck, he needed to get a grip.

  He dropped his legs over the side of the bed, grabbed a pair of gray cotton pants, and pulled them up his thighs. He tied the drawstring as he padded into the main room and spotted Allie in the kitchen. The sight of her leaning into the fridge wearing nothing but his T-shirt made him exhale a heavy breath. His subconscious was still churning out of control but her presence in his kitchen grounded him with an intimacy just as strong as the one they’d shared in bed.

  Allie closed the stainless-steel door to the Sub-zero with her hip. She turned around and a smile to launch a thousand ships spread across her face, then faded. “Are you okay? You’re as white as a ghost.” She set the carton of eggs on the counter.

  Hell if he was going into the unpleasant details of a trip through his subconscious.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” he said, his voice still groggy from sleep. He inhaled deeply and forced a smile to his face. “Something smells delicious.”

  “I’m making breakfast.” She cracked an egg on the rim of the bowl and let out a slight laugh. “Well, more like lunch.”

  Hudson’s eyes darted to the digital readout on the oven. “I never sleep in. A new occurrence.”

  Allie cracked the last of the eggs into the bowl and began to whisk the contents. “Well, that’s what happens when you fall asleep as the sun is coming up.”

  “Or fall asleep with you.” He slid onto a barstool, still trying to shake the nightmare that was clinging to him. “You cook?”

  “A few things. My morning repertoire is limited to eggs, bacon, and toast, though. Don’t be expecting me to flip a pancake.” Allie began to open one cupboard after another, then glanced over her shoulder at Hudson. “Plates?”

  “To your left,” he said, waving a hand.

  “How about you? Know your way around this fancy kitchen?” She opened the cupboard to her left, pulling out a couple white plates.

  “A few things.” He frowned. “I learned early how to fend for myself, and someone had to feed Nick.”

  “What about your mom?” Allie dumped the eggs into a frying pan, then reached over to pop four slices of bread into the toaster.

  “She wasn’t exactly the Betty Crocker type. Besides, she was usually working.” Or drinking herself blind. “Now I have a staff to handle the shopping and cooking, leaving me time to—” he paused, letting his gaze drift leisurely over Allie’s body, lingering on her breasts “—do more important things.”

  Allie’s head jerked up from the eggs cooking in the pan. “Staff? Last night when we were—”

  “Fucking across the floor like a freight train?” A satisfied grin curved his lips. “Relax. I gave them the weekend off. I assumed you’d prefer it that way.”

  “Looks like you also assumed I’d stay.”

  “Hoped.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it as a flush spread across her cheeks. “Bacon’s almost ready. I seem to have made enough to feed all of Chicago.” Allie opened the oven and bent over to flip the bacon. “Hope you’re hungry.”

  Hudson’s eyes locked on the exposed skin between her thighs. “Suddenly starved.” He pushed to his feet and strolled around the breakfast bar. “No panties. I approve.” He so fucking approved. His hands slid under the shirt and over the curves of her naked ass.

  “I have you to thank for that, Mr. Chase. I believe my panties are a shredded pile of lace on your living room floor.”

  Hudson grinned against her neck. “I’ll do it again if it gets me what I want.” His palms smoothed up the sides of her rib cage and the rough pad of his thumbs brushed over her nipples.

  She leaned back against him, her hair soft against his bare chest. He cupped her breasts and his fingers tugged at her nipples.

  “Breakfast is never going to be ready if you keep doing that.”

  Removing his hands from under her shirt, he skidded the pan across the burner and flipped the gas off. “Breakfast can wait,” he said, lifting Allie onto the counter and spreading her legs wide. “I can’t.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Allie rested her head on Hudson’s chest, his heart pounding against her cheek as they struggled to catch their breath. “What is it with you and floors?”

  A deep laugh vibrated in his chest. “Merely taking advantage of ample square footage.”

  “I’m going to attempt to make breakfast. Again.” She sat up and shot him a look of admonishment before slipping his T-shirt back over her head. “Behave yourself this time.”

  “I didn’t hear any complaints on my most recent behavior.”

  Her eyes raked over him lying in all his glory on the kitchen floor. Hmm, definitely no complaints. Hudson lifted his hips and pulled his pants up, putting an end to her shameless ogling. Just as well if they had any hope of ever eating breakfast. He leaned forward to tie the drawstring and she watched as his washboard abs curled into a perfect six-pack. She fought the urge to reach out and touch him as her appreciative stare roamed the contours of his naked chest. Must. Cook. Breakfast. She tore her gaze from his body, focusing instead on his handsome face, and an involuntary giggle escaped her lips.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “You. Your hair.”

  Hudson ran a hand through his unruly locks. “Bed head and amorous fingers. Quite the combination.” He flashed a broad grin as he stood, grabbing Allie by the hand and hauling her to her feet. “I believe I was promised bacon and eggs?”

  “Oh, the bacon!” She spun around and opened the oven door. “Hope you like it extra crispy.”

  “Perfect. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hudson pull a basic, WalMart-issue coffeemaker out of one of the cherry cabinets. “You use that instead of the Jura?” she asked, nodding toward the state-of-the-art espresso maker she knew cost well over three grand.

  “It has an on/off switch. Pour water in, black coffee comes out. What more does one need?”

  She leaned against the counter, watching as he plugged the Mr. Coffee into the wall and filled the carafe with water. “You don’t know how to use the other one, do you?” she asked, trying hard to hide her smile.

  He stared at her impassively for a moment. “While it doesn’t produce your cappuccino with extra foam, hold the nutmeg,” he said, his lips curling into an amused grin. “I prefer to keep it simple.”

  While the coffee brewed, Hudson poured them each a glass of orange juice. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

  “Maybe pop in a few more slices of bread?” She nodded to his Dualit toaster. “Unless, of course, you find all kitchen appliances as daunting as an espresso machine.”

  “Funny, Miss Sinclair.”

  They worked side by side, Allie scrambling eggs and Hudson making toast. Allie flipping bacon, Hudson setting out silverware. Allie casually eating breakfast, Hudson devouring everything but the plate.

  “That was delicious, Allie. Thank you.” He swallowed his last bite and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I have a call to make and . . .” He glanced at the oven clock. “Shit, just enough time to grab a quick shower.” He stood in a rush, piling his silverware on his plate. “But take your time, finish eating.”

  “I’m done.” Allie slid off her barstool, taking Hudson’s plate and stacking it on top of hers. “Go. I’ll clean up.”

  “I apologize. I shouldn’t be long. Help yourself to the shower.” He cupped Allie’s chin, tilting her head back and planting a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you. Rain check?”

  “Hudson, I really should go home. I don’t have any clothes.”

  “You look pretty fan-fucking-tastic in my shirt, and I just happen to have a closetful.” Hudson spanked her pl
ayfully on the ass before sauntering out of the room. “Besides,” he called out over his shoulder, “I don’t plan on letting you stay dressed for long.”

  After cleaning the kitchen, Allie made her way to the master bathroom. Dark cherry cabinets ran the length of one wall while two sinks with brushed nickel faucets divided an expanse of black granite. More cabinets sat atop the counter. They flanked either end of the vanity and ran clear to the ceiling, perfectly framing the oversize mirror. A large square tub dominated the far end of the room. It was encased in more black granite and was fed by a waterfall faucet protruding from the wall. While the tub was definitely big enough for two, the shower could easily accommodate five or six. The glass enclosure had two rain showerheads suspended from the ceiling and square body sprays mounted at intervals up and down the wall. Allie had seen her fair share of luxury bathrooms, but nothing quite like this. Everything about Hudson’s bathroom was dark, masculine, and larger than life. Just like the man himself.

  Tossing Hudson’s T-shirt in the hamper, Allie piled her loose curls on top of her head and stepped into the stream of the body sprays. The water was warm and soothing as it pulsed against her aching muscles. Their adventures across the floor, not to mention the three . . . or was it four . . . rounds in the bed left her sore in places she’d never imagined. And now he didn’t plan on letting her stay dressed for long? She shuddered as she reached for the bar of soap. Her rational side knew she should go back to her brownstone and try to forget all about Hudson Chase. But all rational thought left her as she ran her lathered hands across her body. Allie’s eyes drifted shut as she imagined it was Hudson’s hands touching her, exciting her as they slid over her breasts, down her stomach, and between her thighs. Her eyes popped open. This was not helping.

  Rinsing quickly, she turned off the water and reached for a towel. She wrapped it tightly around her and wandered over to the vanity, examining herself in the mirror. Not as bad as she expected considering she’d hardly slept the night before. In fact, her cheeks seemed to have a nice glow to them. She pulled the clip from her hair and ran her fingers through her curls. She could survive without makeup or hair products, but she would kill for a toothbrush. She opened the top drawer and eyed Hudson’s. Oh, what the hell, after everything else they’d done, what was the harm in sharing a toothbrush?

  When she was done she put it back in the drawer, idly taking note of the other items. Toothpaste, floss, a travel-size bottle of mouthwash. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to suggest a woman stayed over on a regular basis. Then again, Hudson didn’t strike her as the type to have a pink toothbrush lying next to his. No, if anything, he probably had a supply of extra toiletries on hand like the front desk of a five-star hotel. Without thinking she opened the tall cabinet to her left. More of the usual suspects—shaving cream, razor, deodorant—and all of the male variety. No tampons, eye creams, or scented lotions. She shook her head. Get a grip, Allie. She needed to stop acting like a jealous girlfriend and find something to wear.

  Hudson wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a closetful of shirts for her to choose from. Dozens of crisp dress shirts hung on racks above a row of dark suits that stretched from one end of the closet to the other. She selected a white linen button-down and rolled the sleeves to her elbows. The shirt fit her like a dress, but she wasn’t entirely comfortable running around Hudson’s apartment without panties despite the pleasurable outcome when making breakfast. She found a pair of his boxer briefs in one of the drawers and slipped them on. Great. Now what?

  Allie wandered back into Hudson’s bedroom, wondering how much longer he’d be tied up on the phone. She sat on the edge of the bed and her eyes shifted to his nightstand. Harper’s voice echoed in her mind. I bet he’s kinky, too. Unable to help herself, she casually slid the top drawer open, bracing herself for what she might find.

  Exhaling, she almost laughed at herself. What was she expecting, a crop and a flogger? Damn Harper and her crazy books. There was, however, a rather large box of condoms. Allie felt an unexpected pang of jealousy before telling herself in no uncertain terms to get over it. The man obviously entertained his fair share of women and he swore he’d always been safe. At least until it came to her. She should have been relieved to see the proof of his precautions stored conveniently at his bedside. So why did the thought of it bother her so much?

  Her gaze drifted around the room and a door she hadn’t noticed before caught her eye. Curious, she opened it to find a fully stocked wet bar that connected to Hudson’s office. Like his bedroom, the office was decorated in dark, oversize furniture. A polished mahogany desk sat facing a marble fireplace and two wingback chairs, while floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined three of the walls.

  Hudson sat in a black leather chair facing a breathtaking view of North Michigan Avenue. With his back to her, Allie was afforded a quiet moment to observe the CEO in action. She was certainly no stranger to powerful men, having been around them her entire life, but as she listened to him she realized there was something inherently different about Hudson Chase. It wasn’t so much the actual words he spoke—she’d overheard talk of mergers, deadlines, and stop orders more times than she cared to remember—but the way he said them. When Hudson issued a directive there was an indisputable finality. As if the person on the other end of the line had no choice but to follow his instructions to the letter. And it was in the way he carried himself. Yes, he was gorgeous, sophisticated, and undeniably sexy. But that was what you saw on the surface. Allie had only known this new version of Hudson for a few weeks, yet already she could tell there was something deeper, something darker even, that commanded the respect of most everyone he encountered.

  His chair spun around and his eyes met hers, tracking her every move as she slowly crossed the room and rounded his desk. She drank him in from head to toe. Feet bare and hair still damp from his shower, he looked relaxed and casual in jeans and a gray cashmere sweater, a total contradiction to the person speaking instructions into the phone.

  Hudson reached for her and ran his hand up her bare thigh, his eyes flaring when he realized she was wearing a pair of his boxer briefs. He smirked and shook his head. Pressing the phone between his shoulder and his ear, he leaned forward and swept the underwear down her legs. She watched him with a growing fascination, seeing both her playful lover and the powerful executive. The combination took her breath away.

  His hand glided up the inside of Allie’s thigh, his fingers teasing her as they slid back and forth between her silky folds. She stifled a moan as first one finger and then another moved in and out, again and again. With his eyes locked on hers, he removed his hand from between her thighs and sucked his fingers into his mouth. Allie’s lips parted on a silent gasp. His eyes gleamed wickedly as he responded to someone on the other end of the line. “I want to double those numbers by the end of next week.”

  Oh, so that was the game he was playing? Allie took his smug grin as a challenge. Turned on and wanting more than just the brief touch of his fingers, she climbed into his lap. Her feet barely touched the ground as she straddled him. She reached for the button of his jeans and toyed with it, searching his face as she tried to gauge his reaction. His eyes darkened, giving her all the encouragement she needed to unzip his fly and free his erection.

  Allie never broke eye contact as she positioned herself above his thick length. Hudson swallowed hard as he watched her grasp the back of the leather chair and lower herself onto him, inch by delicious inch. The feel of him filling her was incredible and she had to resist the urge to groan at the sweet invasion.

  Leveraging against the back of the chair, she rose up and down in a slow, fluid movement. Hudson bit back a hiss and gripped her waist. He tried to hold her in place but she rocked her hips, riding him with each silent glide of the chair. Up and down. Over and over. He glanced down to where they were joined, struggling to maintain his composure and keep a level voice as she tortured him with each measured stroke.

  “Update me on Mo
nday,” he bit out, grinding back on his molars and practically throwing the phone in its cradle. “Fuck, Allie.” He groaned and took her mouth with a furious need, his tongue moving fast and hot as it slid over hers. His hands were splayed, palming her behind as he rocked her in a strong and dominating rhythm.

  Capturing Hudson’s face between her hands, Allie held his mouth to hers as he worked her up and down. Her hands raked into his hair and she cried out into his mouth, her muscles clenching as an intense orgasm rolled through her. A groan vibrated in the back of his throat, mixing with her cries as his hips pumped up, riding out the spasms of his release.

  Allie collapsed against Hudson’s chest for the second time in as many hours. She lay there for a long while before regaining the ability to speak. “Sorry to interrupt your call,” she finally said, her breathing still erratic.

  “Don’t be.” He buried his nose in her hair. “You can top me like that anytime.”

  Confused, Allie lifted her head. “What?”

  “What you just did, always a welcome interruption. Encouraged even.”

  “Are you finished?”

  He flashed a salacious grin. “For a few minutes anyway.”

  “No.” She rolled her eyes. “I meant are you finished with your work?”

  “I’m all yours.” Hudson slid his hand up the side of her throat. His eyes burned with sincerity as he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Does this mean you’ve decided to stay?”

  She knew she shouldn’t—it would only make things harder in the end—but she seemed incapable of denying him anything. Biting her lip, she gave a small, shy nod.

  “Good. What would you like to do today? I know what I’d like to do, and since a few minutes have passed . . .” Hudson flexed his hips, rolling his already hardening arousal against her.