Monster Prick (Screwed, #1.5)(5)

Well, I'm not going to let them stop me. It’s time I kicked off my white cotton briefs and had some fun.

“Gracie, wait,” Hudson calls from somewhere behind me.

I turn around and stare into the most beautiful honey-colored eyes I’ve ever seen.





Chapter Three


Gracie


I still can’t believe I’m sitting here with Hudson Stone. In my little apartment on my hand-me-down couch. His large frame seems to take up more room than necessary in the space, masculinity radiating from him like a powerful cologne. Just being near him is an aphrodisiac. He’s staring intently down at my computer screen and there’s a tick in his jaw again.

Showing him these one-dimensional men on the dating site only heightens my awareness that none of them measure up to the man seated beside me. He’s all I've ever wanted. He’s smart, kind, driven, and intuitive—once I get him away from my ornery brother, that is. Picking up on my moods and doing his best to cheer me up seems like more than most men would do. Especially for their friend’s kid sister. When he and my brother went off to college, I saw him less often. But he still found ways to make me feel like I mattered. He started leaving presents for me again on his visits home, as if he felt safer with some distance between us. A book under my pillow at Christmastime, another one for Easter.

But there were still the hard times. Like when he went to Mexico for spring break and I had to endure the dozens of photos on his social media pages, each with a blonde, busty sorority girl hanging off him like he was her own personal jungle gym. I hated seeing stuff like that. It was one thing to know they happened, but another to actually see the women I was sure he was sleeping with.

And then, of course, these last several years while I was in college and he and my brother were busy building their empire. I didn’t see much of him then, either. Which was just as well—I threw myself into my studies, earning dual degrees in architecture and structural engineering. It left very little time for dating, and because of that, I never really outgrew my secret Hudson Stone fantasies. But now that he’s here, in the flesh, those dreams feel so potent and dangerous.

“I just don't understand. Why do you want to do this? Really?” he asks, his voice tense.

Somehow I can’t help opening up. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe because it’s been a long and stressful week of work as I got acquainted with my new professional life. But mostly it’s the effect Hudson has on me. He’s like a truth serum.

“Because I...” I look down at my hands. “I’m tired of being a virgin and I just want to meet someone and get it over with.”

His hand slides under my jawline and he lifts my chin until my eyes are on his. What I see in those honey depths makes my breath catch in my throat.

“You were serious. What you said at the bar...you’ve never been with a man?” he asks, his voice tender.

Thankful for his sympathy, I shake my head. “No one.”

He suddenly looks angry, like he wants to punch something, and I don’t understand why. “How is that even possible?” he asks.

I shake my head again, mesmerized by his stare, because I’m really not sure how to answer that. I spent too much time studying? Too much time lusting after him? Neither of those are good answers.

“Then you shouldn’t just give it away to one of these random guys, Gracie. That’s not what you deserve.”

His hand remains at my jawline, his thumb lightly rubbing back and forth across my cheek. The rough pads of his calloused fingers on my skin feel amazing. I barely resist the temptation to lean into his touch.

“What do I deserve then, Hudson? Tell me.” I’m not sure when we started whispering, but I realize we’re both talking in hushed tones. Our faces hover just a few inches apart; I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. God, I wish he’d just kiss me.

“What if I could help you?” he suggests, his voice a strained whisper.

Stunned, I draw in a lungful of air. “What do you mean?”





Chapter Four


Hudson


“What if I could help you?”

I have no idea what the hell I was thinking. The words just leaped out of my mouth. Listening to Gracie talk about kicking off her granny panties and popping her cherry with some random Internet dick...I guess it drove me temporarily insane.

But there's no taking back the idea now. Gracie sucks in her breath, blinking wide-eyed. “What do you mean?” she asks.

What do I mean? Here I am, sitting next to the world's most beautiful girl—drowning in her eyes? her scent, the gentle puff of her breath on my mouth that begs me to close the distance. I know what I want, but I also know what will happen if I take it. My best friend will rip off my balls and feed them to me. And I'll probably deserve every second.

But sweet Jesus, I'm pretty sure Gracie wants this too, and that's enough to blow my better judgment to pieces. All I care about right now is making her feel better. In as many ways as possible. And if her slightly quickened breathing, blown pupils, and flushed cheeks are anything to go by...

As an experiment, I dart out the tip of my tongue to wet my lips. Her darkened eyes drop like a magnet yanked them. Yeah, bingo. Having a little black book as thick as the dictionary has its advantages. I know damn well how to tell when a woman wants me.