Her head thudded back and her body arched against his chest as his fingers slid through the slickness, spreading the moisture over her sex. “I’ve barely touched you. See how your body responds to me, Alessandra.” Mouth-to-mouth tight, his breath fanned across her lips. “So wet. So ready.”

Her hips tilted into his sensuous strokes. “It’s not fair what you do to me.”

Sinking a finger inside her, he felt her clench helplessly around him. “Who said anything about being fair?” In a deliberate move, he palmed her ass and urged her legs around his waist. A groan vibrated up his throat from the pressure of her making his cock punch to its full length.

Hudson ground his mouth against hers, marking his territory in a possessive kiss, swallowing her moans as their tongues slid over each other. He stepped away from the wall and the heel of her shoe dug into his ass with a satisfying lick of pain. She rocked against his now pounding erection and he hissed.

Faltering, he threw an arm out, catching himself on the piano. His hand gripped Allie’s waist as her ass hit the keys in a jarring chord. “I’m dying to be inside you.”

“Yes,” she said, more breath than voice as he dragged his open mouth down her throat. “Now, Hudson. I want you.”

His name sounded perfect rolling off her tongue. He shoved the skirt of her dress around her waist and with dexterous fingers ripped open his button fly. He stretched her leg up and the sight of her, glistening and open for him, had his cock twitching on the edge of an orgasm.

“I want to take my time, but I can’t wait.” Curling the end of his spine, he thrust into her hard and fast, pushing her back against the piano.

Allie’s head fell back on a cry. “Yes.”

He pulled out, his body straining as pleasure coursed through him, then pushed into her again, rotating his hips and sinking deeper. “Fuck . . . Allie.” His fingers dug into her thigh as he glanced down to where they were joined. He could see himself moving in and out of her, watching the head of his cock make an appearance before pushing deep again.

Allie’s body writhed against him with each possessive thrust. Her legs began to tremble and her hands clutched wildly at the keys. Disjointed notes vibrated beneath her, mingling with the sounds of his hunger as the spasms of her orgasm squeezed him in an alternating rhythm. Her knees buckled and Hudson banded an arm around her as she slipped off the piano and into his lap.

“I have more for you,” he rasped over her lips. Still buried inside her, he laid Allie out on the wood floor. “You’re going to come for me again.” With that he arched over her, fusing their mouths together as he pounded into her in relentless, measured drives.

“I want to feel you.” She slipped her hands under his T-shirt, running her fingers over the muscles flexing beneath his skin.

Hudson’s tempo slowed. Rearing up, he fisted the back of his shirt, yanked it over his head, and tossed it aside. He came back down over Allie, her legs wrapping around him as she shoved her hands under the waistband of his jeans to grip his flexing ass.

“Don’t stop,” she said, rocking her hips up to meet his thrusts.

“Not a chance in hell.” He was a man undone, too impassioned to be gentle. His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her in place as he stroked in and out. Bracing his feet, and with a lithe surge, he leveraged against the floor as his body rolled over hers.

He took her again in a bruising kiss, his tongue filling her mouth. One hand curled around the nape of her neck while the other fell to the back of her thigh. His movements became faster, thrusts more powerful, as they slid together as one across the polished floor.

“Come on, Allie, give it to me,” he said, each word punctuated on a breath.

Her thighs tightened around him as her climax plowed through her. A groan vibrated up the back of Hudson’s throat, mixing with Allie’s cries as his hips powered into her. “Ah, God, Allie.” He pressed his forehead against her as he came hard and long.

They lay nose-to-nose as their collective breathing slowed. After a moment, Allie craned her neck and he followed her gaze to find the couch rising like a wall behind her. She looked back at him and started to laugh.

Hudson tossed a lingering stare over his shoulder at the piano, then smirked down at her. “Thoroughly fucked across the room, Miss Sinclair.”

“Beautiful piano. How long have you played?”

“I don’t.”

“Then why do you have one?”

“Because that’s what rich people do. Buy things they don’t need.” He sat up in a fluid movement and cradled Allie between his legs.

She looked up at him incredulously. “So you have a Fazioli grand piano in your home that has never been played?”

“Except by your ass.”

Her brow arched. “That’s a very expensive piano to have only been played by my ass.”

“Worth every fucking cent.”

Chapter Sixteen

Hudson knew he was in a dream, because for a split second he was happy. Then the gun went off. And all he saw was red. The horror of the nightmare unfolded before him, clear as the first time he’d had it as a child and every time since. He fell to his knees, the threads of his jeans drinking the crimson liquid as it spread around him. He couldn’t move, and in his body’s paralysis, fear ripped through him. Someone was screaming.

No, crying.

Nick’s tearstained face contorted in terror as hands pulled him out of Hudson’s reach, his shoes squeaking on the floor as they dragged him away.

Hudson curled his fists and punched them into the mattress as he shot up. His breathing was ragged. Shit, his heart was pounding so hard against his chest. He whipped the sheets away from his naked body; there was nothing red staining his knees. He bent his legs toward his chest, planted his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands, wishing like hell this panicked, helpless feeling would go away. This attachment to his guilt and the familiar litany of shame sank bone deep.

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?”