“Yes . . .” A strobe of light flashed through the curtains, highlighting Allie’s face. He eased his fingers out, and with his eyes locked to hers he traced her lips, coating them with her arousal. He shifted a hand under the weight of her hair and curled his fingers around her neck. On a groan he pulled her to him and kissed her hard, his tongue licking the taste of her from her lips.
“Do it,” he rasped against her mouth. He lifted his hips to push his pants farther down his legs. “Take me. I want to watch you.”
The bastard in him wanted to tie her hands behind her back so all she had to take him with was her hot, soaking core. But he craved the soft, gentle touch of her hands, a dark paradox to her quest to be taken rough and hard. He watched intently as she wrapped her fingers around his achingly hard length and rubbed the head of his cock against her slick sex.
“Now, Allie,” Hudson hissed through clenched teeth. He was way past the point of asking nicely.
She rose up on her knees and positioned herself, the thick head of his cock parting her lips. He swallowed hard as she lowered herself onto him. “Fuck,” he bit out. “So tight.” His fingers flexed restlessly against her thighs as she took more of him inside her, until with a final shift, he was balls deep.
In the dim, filtered light he watched Allie’s back arch and her teeth sink into her lower lip. He moved his hands to her waist and squeezed. Her muscles flexed under his grip as she began to ride him in an easy, fluid movement, over and over. Outside the heavy curtains a sultry bass thumped throughout the jam-packed club. But inside that confined space, the world belonged to them, and before long, their slow teasing fuck turned into a raw, voracious need.
With a curse, Hudson’s head kicked back, pressing into the cushion behind him. His breathing became rough and more ragged. Allie braced her hands on his shoulders and her body undulated in waves over him, rolling her hips into each downward stroke—harder, faster, deeper.
Fuck, she didn’t stop. And he never wanted her to.
Panting, she leaned forward and her lips hovered over his. “Hudson . . .”
He took her mouth with a furious need, swallowing her cries. He could feel her impending orgasm pulsing around his shaft as his tongue thrust fast and hot over hers. His hips surged upward, pumping in and out of her with a perfect pounding glide that met her strokes with increasing force. Her fingers raked into his hair and clenched a handful of his dark waves, the sweet lick of pain a direct line to his groin.
His hand slipped between her thighs and his thumb circled the top of her sex, taking her higher and higher until her body exploded in an orgasm that had her fisting his cock like a vise. The sensation kicked off his own release in a razor-sharp flash of pleasure that shot straight down his spine. His hips locked against hers as he emptied himself inside her. And as he did, only one word came to mind. “Yours.”
Chapter Thirteen
The panoramic view from Hudson’s office displayed the urban sprawl of Chicago as a winter wonderland. Outside, snow swirled just beyond the thick glass in what must have been the coldest winter on record, at times nearly grinding the city to a halt. But inside it was business as usual. With his brow furrowed in concentration, Hudson’s fingers hammered against his laptop at a vicious pace. Work had always been his savior, and with him and Allie at negotiated opposite ends, he was relying on it once again to encapsulate him into his world.
Hudson blew out a breath as he hit send on a lengthy e-mail, then moved to the next item burning up his inbox. With any luck it would preoccupy him for the rest of the day. Although in reality there wasn’t a spreadsheet in the world that could keep his focus from shifting to the photo of Allie that sat framed on his desk.
Ever since Julian cornered her with his list of demands, they’d been sparring for public consumption while fucking each other senseless in private. Admittedly, the latter wasn’t so bad, but the former had him on edge. The seconds, minutes, and hours they stole in hidden corners, dark offices, or late-night covert ops seemed to be the only thing holding them both together. But it wasn’t enough. They needed a day—scratch that, a weekend—where Allie wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder.
Hudson’s gaze fell to his calendar and an idea began to take hold. But as he reached for his cell phone, it vibrated against his desk. His little brother’s name flashed up on the screen along with some selfie reminiscent of Easy Rider that he’d snapped on the Fat Boy Hudson had given him for Christmas.
“For Fuck’s sake,” Hudson muttered. When in the hell had he had enough time or ingenuity to do that? At least he wasn’t flashing his ass . . . this time.
“Yeah, Nick.” He shifted to a pile on the corner of his desk, lifting a contract off the top and slashing a red X through the black and white.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Modern technology.”
“Whatcha up to?” Nick’s over-the-top enthusiasm had Hudson wishing he’d dropped the call into voice mail.
“Working.” Hudson flipped the page to annihilate another paragraph.
“You work too much. Get out, live a little.”
“What do you want, Nick?” Giving up on the documents in front of him, Hudson leaned back in his leather chair.
“I wanted to, ya know, see if you wanted to get some grub. Feel like a little Al’s Beef? Been craving that greasy goodness for days.”
“I already ate.”
“When?”
“I don’t know, earlier. What’s with the dietary interrogation?”
“What’s with the ’tude? Allie would school your ass for being such a grumpy prick.”
Hudson frowned into the phone. Nick had known Allie as long as he had and wasn’t far off with that assessment. Her presence—her smile, her laugh, all those soft feminine curves—would have straight-up given him an attitude adjustment. Not to mention her sharp tongue dropping the hammer on his shitty mood.
“Let’s hang.” Nick snorted into the phone. “You know, get outside the eighteen million rooms of your bachelor pad.”
Hudson breathed deep through his nose. “I have work I need to get done.”
“Come on, you’re the big wig at that joint. Spare a couple hours and go shopping with me or something. You’re always ragging on how I’m dressed. Thought you might get off on taking me to Banana Republic or some shit. Make me over into your mini-me.”
“What’s this about, Nick?”
“Nothing. Can’t a guy just want to spend time with his brother?”
A chuckle reverberated in Hudson’s chest. “Cut the bullshit, Nicky. What’s your angle?”
Nick exhaled in a rush. “I’m worried about you, bro. You’re isolating yourself back into your old habits. All work and no play make Hudson an asshole. Besides, you’ve always been lookin’ out for me; now it’s my turn.”
Hudson could barely stand his own company these days. The air in his penthouse had become suffocating and stale, and work wasn’t doing shit to smooth out his edges. Maybe an afternoon with Nick was what he needed. A grin curved his mouth. “I have an idea.”
“What?” Nick shot back.
“You’ll see.” Hudson started the shut-down process on his laptop.
“Shopping? Food? Ice skating?”
“None of the above.”
“What the fuck is better than you J.Crewing the hell out of me?”
“Pick you up in thirty.” Hudson hung up, cutting off a string of curses mixed with pleas for a hint.
* * *
Hudson curbed the DB9 outside the apartment he’d rented for his brother. After his stint in rehab, the dive of a neighborhood he’d been living in was a no-go. Nick had balked at taking a handout, but Hudson had finally convinced him. In hindsight he should have just moved him into the penthouse, since that’s where he was most nights anyway.