The city lights shine through his naked windows, painting our bodies in shades of yellows and ambers.
Reaching for his stomach, my anxious fingers trace each ripple of his muscled wall.
We’re doing this.
“Is this weird for you?” I ask as he drops to his knees and works my leggings down my thighs.
“Not at all,” he says. “You?”
“Yeah.”
He stops, glancing up at me with a wicked glint in his blue irises. “You want me to stop?”
“Nope,” I say, lying on my back.
He peels my leggings away, tossing them aside before going for my lace thong, and the second he has me naked in his bed, all bets are off.
Spreading my thighs, he lowers his mouth to my mound, tracing his tongue through my delicate folds, swirling, licking, and sucking until my body shudders and I find myself forgetting how to breathe.
Reaching between my thighs, I run my fingers through his hair, tugging at his thick mane as I ride his tongue.
Hudson’s arms hook around my legs, and his hand snakes up my belly, stopping at my swollen breasts.
“If you …” I sigh. “If you keep doing this … I’m going to … I’m getting close …”
He stops.
Just like that.
My pussy aches, throbbing for his touch, silently begging for him to put out the fire he so greedily started.
Moving to his nightstand, he pulls a gold foil packet from the top drawer, placing it between his teeth and ripping it open. Sheathing his cock, he comes back to me.
Positioning himself between my legs, he drags the tip of his cock against my slick seam. Back and forth, slow and tortuous. I suck in a breath, harboring it in anticipation, and without warning, he guides every inch of his thick cock inside me, pressing himself all the way in and leaving no part of me untouched.
Pushing himself over me, his lower body moves with an insatiable rhythm, taking from me everything he can and giving to me everything he’s got. My fingers dig into his lower back, clenching at his muscled body with each insertion.
Hudson kisses me again, claiming my mouth for his own.
“God, you feel so good,” he moans, grazing his lips on mine and breathing us in.
Without warning, Hudson pulls out, rising on his knees before guiding me to my stomach. With his hands on my hips, he pulls my ass toward him, propping me up before aligning himself.
Dragging his cock against my seam, he presses himself in with one hard thrust, and I clench a fistful of his thousand-thread count sheets.
He fucks me from behind, his thrusts animalistic and demanding, and I’m grateful. I’m grateful because for a moment there, the sex was sweet and tender and passionate.
And I just can’t …
Not with him.
Not now.
Not under these circumstances.
Steadying myself, I fuck him back, thrust for thrust, all but giving my body to him on a shiny silver platter. That’s all he wants anyway. It’s not my heart he’s after.
Besides, I don’t want his either.
Clenching my eyes, I ride the wave the first chance I get, letting myself succumb to the seismic orgasm pulsing through my core as he pistons harder, faster, finally finishing.
I collapse, and he leaves, heading to his bathroom to clean up. When he returns, I drag myself up, brushing my hair from my face and hoping I can make it to the door without my legs giving out beneath me.
“Where are you going?” he asks, crawling back in bed.
“Back to my room.”
“Stay,” he says.
Sixteen
Hudson
* * *
“Mr. Rutherford?” Savannah/Shoshannah taps on my door Friday morning, her fingers fidgety like she doesn’t know where to put them when they’re not in use.
I glance through the clear glass door, lifting a brow.
She knows not to bother me when my door is closed, but I’m trying to cut her some slack here because I don’t feel like listening to another one of Mari’s lectures.
Forcing a modest smile, I nod. “Yes, come in.”
“Thank you,” she says, exhaling and smiling.
“For what?”
“Thank you,” she repeats, “for the flowers. They’re beautiful. And I accept your apology.”
I have no idea what the fuck she’s talking about.
“And thank you for spelling my name correctly,” she adds with a relieved titter. “On the card. It means a lot. I know you’re not the best with names.”
Mari.
All of this screams of Mari’s doing.
“You’re welcome, Sa … Shoshannah.” I force a smile and politely wave her out. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m in the middle of something right now.”
“Of course,” she says, prancing away like a nervous Pekingese at a dog show.
Turning back to my computer, I flick my pen back and forth and lose myself in thought. I hate the second round of revisions. That township in Jersey felt the library needed a little something extra, though they couldn’t say what. That’s my job, they said. Never mind that I’m not a mind reader, and I don’t particularly enjoy wasting my valuable time playing guessing games.
Besides, this building is absolutely perfect just the way it is.
But if they want something extra … I’ll give them something extra. At the end of the day, they’re not my taxpaying dollars going to waste.
We’re leaving for Montauk this afternoon, and this project was supposed to be finished by now, but so much for that. Looks like I’ll be taking work with me, and I’m sure my mother will find every excuse she can to ensure that I know how disappointed she is.
Today’s weather is abnormally cheery, which is distracting for me, so I make my way around my office, yanking the blinds down until it’s dark so I can focus. Flicking on my desk lamp, I try to concentrate on this fucking library one more time, but I’m feeling rather uninspired.
Believe it or not, I’m actually looking forward to spending a few weeks by the ocean with Mari.
Grabbing my phone, I dial her up so I can chew her ass while I’m thinking of it.
“Hey,” she answers on the third ring. “What’s up?”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Did you seriously just call me to see what I’m doing? What are you, my fiancé or something?” The phone rustles. “I’m packing. We’re still leaving today, right?”
“Right,” I say. “Mari, what did you send to my assistant today?”
“Oh? She got the flowers?”
“Why’d you do that?” My jaw tenses.
“Because you owed her an apology. And because I want the two of you to be on good terms before you take off for an entire month,” she says. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“In the future, I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t meddle in my work affairs,” I say. “And before you send any woman flowers in my name, at least have the decency to run it by me first.”
“Whatever.” She laughs.
“I mean it.”
“Get back to work,” she says. “I’m hanging up now.”
The second she ends the call, my line rings.