“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.

“Give a girl a chance to catch her breath,” she said with a laugh. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck as she considered their options. “What would you do if I weren’t here?”

“Work,” he answered matter-of-factly. “You?”

She shrugged. “Shop, go to a movie.”

“Well, you’ve already shopped my closet.” He hooked a finger in the neck of her borrowed dress shirt. “But I do have a home theater. Movie?”

“We never did get to see a movie together.”

Hudson frowned. “I couldn’t afford the price of the tickets back then.”

“Well, now’s your chance.” Allie placed a swift kiss on the corner of Hudson’s mouth before climbing off his lap. “If you’re lucky, I might even let you hold my hand.”

“Hold your hand? Oh, Miss Sinclair, I plan to do a lot more than just hold your hand.”

Chapter Eighteen

Allie followed Hudson to the second floor of his penthouse. When they reached the top of the stairs she felt as though she was peering into a gallery at an art museum. She was dying to get a closer look at the oversize canvases lining both sides of the darkened hallway, curious to see what type of artwork Hudson had chosen to decorate his home, but he stopped at the first door, opening it and gesturing for her to step inside.

As she did, a dozen Art Deco wall sconces flared to life, revealing five rows of oversize leather chairs. Large speakers were camouflaged in walls that were painted a deep burgundy, and heavy velvet curtains hung on both sides of a silver screen. It was so reminiscent of the golden age of cinema that Allie half expected to find gilded balcony seating behind her. Instead she found Hudson, standing in front of a wet bar that ran the length of the rear wall.

“Would you like popcorn?” he asked, motioning to a professional grade, state-of-the-art popcorn machine.

She raised a skeptical brow. “Do you know how to use that?”

Hudson frowned at the machine. “No, but I can make this.” Reaching up, he opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of microwave popcorn. The sight of him—so strong and powerful and yet so completely befuddled by another high-end, high-cost appliance—was so amusing that she had to press her lips together to stifle a giggle.

“Or perhaps I can interest you in something sweet?”

Her eyes grew wide as he opened the next cabinet. Sno-Caps, Twizzlers, Skittles, Junior Mints. The list went on and on. Hudson’s theater had a selection of candy to rival any Cineplex concession stand. Allie chewed her bottom lip as she considered her choice. “Can’t go wrong with Swedish Fish,” she finally said.

Hudson grinned and handed her one of the bright yellow bags. “One of Nick’s favorites.” He grabbed an iPad from its charger and took her by the hand, leading her down the carpeted aisle and into a row of chairs. Once they were settled, he swiped his finger across the touch screen, accessing an impressive library of films.

“What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t care,” she said, already tearing into her candy. “You pick.”

“Pirates of the Caribbean? If memory serves, that was the movie you wanted to see that summer.” He tapped the icon featuring Jack Sparrow and smirked. “Had a crush on Johnny Depp, if I recall.”

Allie’s mouth popped open. “I did not!”

He held her stare, teasing her with his you-are-so-busted smile until her cheeks heated. She tucked her chin down, muttering to herself while digging a candy fish out of the bag. “And anyway, it was Orlando Bloom.”

Hudson chuckled as he hit Play. With the push of another button he dimmed the lights. “No difference, still one hundred and forty-three minutes in the dark.” He set the iPad on the vacant seat next to him and leaned toward Allie. His voice was a low whisper. “You know, I would have made out with you the moment the lights went down.”

“You mean you would have tried to make out with me.”

“And succeeded.”

“Shh,” she hushed him. “It’s starting.”

About the time Elizabeth Swann yelled “parley,” Hudson gave an exaggerated yawn. He stretched his arms high above his head, and when he lowered them, one managed to land smoothly around Allie. She glanced down to see his hand resting on her shoulder and gave a small smile as she popped another piece of candy into her mouth.

After a few minutes Hudson’s hand moved toward her breast. Not taking her eyes off the screen, Allie reached for his hand and discreetly placed it back on her shoulder. But even with her eyes forward, she caught a glimpse of his amused grin. Clearly he was a man who enjoyed a challenge, and something told her he’d just declared “game on.”

Sure enough, after a few more minutes passed, his hand once again began to wander. But this time he stopped halfway and waited. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, and when she made no protest, he slowly extended one finger, leisurely drawing a circle around the taut peak of her breast. Allie remained impassive, merely covering her hand with his and sliding it back to her shoulder.

Hudson leaned closer and let his lips drift up the column of her throat. “I know what you’re doing,” he whispered against her ear, grazing the lobe with his teeth.

Still not taking her eyes off the screen, Allie inclined her head towards his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His tongue traced the shell of her ear. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it.”

Allie felt the knuckles of his free hand brush the bare skin just above her knee. She glanced down to see the fabric of her borrowed shirt inching higher as his broad palm glided slowly up the inside of her thigh. Her breath hitched and yet, like any good girl would, she pressed her legs together to halt his progress.

Hudson groaned in protest as he sucked on the sensitive skin below her ear. He was driving her positively mad—licking, sucking, nipping—but she was determined not to give in to his advances. This movie was about enjoying something they’d never had the chance to experience in the past. Seventeen-year-old Allie would have never let nineteen-year-old Hudson feel her up in a movie theater.

But he was damn well going to try.

His hand was back on her knee in minutes, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake as his fingers traced the hem of the linen shirt. Featherlight touches moving back and forth. Back and forth.

“Hudson.” His name came out on a breathy whisper.

“Yes, Allie?”

“I want . . .”

She felt his rough stubble on her skin as he smiled against her neck. “Want what?

“Popcorn.”

Hudson’s hands and lips stilled. He lifted his head and the expression on his face had her biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. After a few shell-shocked beats he got up, cursing under his breath as he adjusted the erection so obviously straining against the fly of his jeans. Allie waited until she heard the opening of cabinets before peeking over her shoulder to spy on him through the space between the seats. In the flickering light she saw him rip open the plastic wrapper on the popcorn before tossing it in the microwave and jabbing at the buttons. He waited impatiently, running his hand through his hair before leaning down to watch the carousel through the glass. He popped the door open the minute the microwave chimed.