Monster Prick (Screwed, #1.5)(9)
I guess I have one half of the equation. At least I have a great job. And maybe if I said yes to Hudson … I’d be one step closer to moving forward with my romantic life, too. I roll my eyes at myself. Yeah, I doubt that a pity f*ck from my brother’s friend counts. But beggars can’t be choosers, right?
The skin on the back of my neck prickles. I can feel someone watching me. I spin around and am stunned to see Hudson standing right in front of me, his dark, hungry eyes on mine. How is he here, at the same club on the same night? Kismet, maybe?
“What are you doing here?” I blurt.
He raises one dark brow, still studying me intently. “The better question is, what are you?”
“Melanie and I …” I start, before realizing he didn’t answer my question, I'm not sure what I'm about to say, and I don’t owe him an explanation anyway. I snap my mouth closed, staring at him. Hudson looks incredible. I can’t believe it was just last night that we sat huddled on my couch looking at those online profiles. He’s dressed in a navy button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed up his muscular forearms and a pair of dark wash jeans. I can smell the traces of his rich cologne. Crisp notes of pine, along with something sultry and dark that I can’t put my finger on. I want to lean in closer and inhale against his neck, feel the brush of his stubble along my cheek.
Hudson clears his throat, pulling me from my little fantasy. “Did you have a chance to think about my offer?”
“I still don’t understand,” I admit. “Why are you doing this?”
“What’s there to understand?” He leans closer and I can smell a trace of whiskey on his breath. “My hard cock, your tight little virgin cunt. It’ll be fun.” He winks at me, his full lips tugging up in a smirk. The prick.
For a second I think he’s teasing me, just like he did when we were kids. But then I recognize the telltale edge to his voice. He wants me. Even if he doesn't return my feelings, he really does want me. Suddenly I feel powerful and desirable in a way I haven’t before.
“Kiss me first,” I say. “To see if we have chemistry.”
He brings his mouth close...then stops, his lips resting mere inches from mine. “You’re going to be the end of me, you know that right?” he whispers. Before I can answer, his teeth graze my lower lip, and then he sucks it into his mouth, nibbling lightly. It’s so unexpectedly sexy that I groan into his mouth and clutch his shirt in my fingers. Sweeping his tongue against mine, Hudson takes control of the kiss. It’s hot and powerful and way different than I’ve ever been kissed before. My inner muscles clench deliciously and I groan again when suddenly he pulls away.
“How’s that for chemistry? Did I pass your test?” His tone drops from smugness into something deeper, something primal that tugs between my legs. “Are your little white panties soaked right now?”
The prick is absolutely correct. And I don’t even try to deny it. I want to feel his lips on mine again. And again.
“My cock has been rock hard all f*cking day. Ever since last night …” he groans. “It’s all I can think about.” He dips his head again, inhaling against the side of my neck and making a small growl of frustration. The revelation is mind-blowing. Hearing Hudson admit what I do to him—hearing how much power I have over him—is nothing short of staggering. Confidence and arousal rush through me. Little ol’ me, with one of LA's most desirable men dying to touch me. I almost can't believe it...but my body sure does, and it wants to answer his call.
“This wouldn’t be just sex, Gracie,” he says next, totally surprising me. My heart surges. Does he mean...?
But then he continues, “I’d eat your * until you begged me to stop. I’d teach you how to please a man. How to give a proper blow job.”
My heart comes crashing back down to Earth. Not that his suggestions aren't hot as hell, but they're still “just sex” as far as I'm concerned, and I'm getting tired of him dodging my question. I give him a contemptuous smile. “How thoughtful of you.” Taking a step closer, I look up into his dark eyes. “Why would you even want to do this? With a virgin, you’d have to go slow and do all the work. Besides, I’ll probably suck at it.”
He chuckles darkly. “You really have no f*ckin’ idea, do you?”
“About what?” I blink up at him. I seriously have no clue. And I hate that.
“How good you’re going to feel around me, how your tight little body is going to clench around me, milk my cock...trust me, it’ll be fun for me. I can’t wait to see how many times I’m going to make you come.”
I draw a shuddering breath, feeling so shaky and overwhelmed that I want to collapse into him. Somehow my legs hold me upright. Thank you, God.
“Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. My place,” he whispers. With that, he turns and leaves.
I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do, but as I watch the powerful muscles in his shoulders flex as he walks away, I want nothing more than to rush out after him, hear more of those dirty endearments on his lips, and feel his mouth on mine. I can’t believe that kiss. It was passionate. Intense. Better than I could have imagined, better than my wildest teenage dreams—where Hudson always played the starring role. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or that kiss, or the fact that when faced with men who weren’t Hudson, I wanted nothing to do with them...but I think I may have my answer after all.