Chapter Three Hudson
CHAPTER THREE
Hudson
We pull up to the driveway of the house I live in with my best friend, Levi.
It’s a modest two-bedroom bungalow with a white—now dingy beige—picket fence out front.
There are a few scattered dandelions that have taken root in an overgrown flower bed.
A lone wooden chair sits on the small square of cement we call a patio.
The place may not seem like much, but it’s ours.
Despite Levi’s protests, I pay more than my fair share of the rent using my scholarship money and working double shifts during the off-season. But it’s worth it for the independence and sense of home this place gives me.
Stepping out of the car, I round the hood to open Ella’s door. She’s all kinds of beautiful. The type of woman who can make a man forget his purpose, if only so that he could take her home and show her a good time. A stunning stranger with an accent that makes my pulse pound.
She has dark hair, hazel eyes, and a slim but athletic build. Her fair skin is flushed pink, cheeks glowing with a hint of excitement. She’s exactly my type—effortlessly captivating, with a subtle confidence that comes and goes in waves.
She takes my hand with trembling fingers.
“Nervous?” I ask, flashing her a reassuring smile.
“A little,” she admits, nibbling on that plump bottom lip. “It’s been a while since I’ve done … something like this.”
“Hey, don’t worry,” I say, gently sliding my fingers along her upper arm. “I’ll take damn good care of you.”
She lets out a low laugh, and I see some of the tension leave her body. “Confident, are you?”
“Very.” My hand slowly wraps around the back of her neck, thumb grazing the little knot at her nape. “Can I kiss you?” I murmur. “Take some of the edge off?”
“Yes,” comes her breathy response. Her eyes go wide, sparkling under the floodlights.
I lean in, our lips colliding in the softest of caresses. A faint brush of skin against skin. It’s tentative at first, but soon enough she’s melting against me, opening up like a goddamn flower.
Her taste is intoxicating; all traces of the bar and the schnapps she’d been drinking earlier gone now, replaced by something even sweeter—something more distinct to her.
She moans into the kiss, nails sinking into my back as I angle her body closer to mine. Her hands inch their way under my shirt and run along my abs and chest, lingering on every touch, as if she can’t get enough.
Groaning low in my throat, I deepen the kiss, brushing her hip with fevered strokes.
God, I’ve missed this. This sense of desperation—this urgent need to have her—it’s further proof that my self-imposed dry spell has lasted far too long.
I went a little too hard last year. Drank too much.
Slept around. I’ve been trying to rein it in, but I guess there are some risks a man can’t help but take.
“Come on,” I manage to croak out. “The mosquitoes will eat us alive out here. And God knows, I need to get you in my bed.”
The house is dark as we step inside, Levi likely still out on a date with his girlfriend—or whatever the hell he calls her this week. I let him know I was on my way home with someone, and he still hasn’t texted me back.
I flip on the hallway light and lead Ella into my room, closing the door behind us. My bedroom is modest: queen-size bed, dresser, and two nightstands—one of which is covered in a tumbling pile of clothes. I clear them off, stuffing them into a nearby hamper.
Then I remember something crucial. Turning to Ella with a half-smile, I say, “ Fuck , I nearly forgot. How do you feel about cats?”
Before she can answer, a sleek Siamese with piercing blue eyes comes slinking out from under the bed, purring and rubbing against our legs.
“Love them,” she says, laughing as she bends down to scratch behind his ears. “And who is this?”
“Sourdough,” I reply, watching with amusement as he accepts Ella’s affection.
She stands, casting me a quizzical look. “Odd name.”
I shrug, trying to suppress a smile. “What can I say? He was a very grumpy kitten.”
“Well, then I suppose it’s only logical,” Ella says, a grin spreading across her face.
“But now he’s a total softie,” I say, bending down to greet him. “Aren’t you, bud?”
He responds by purring even louder, circling Ella’s feet in a display of approval.
She laughs again, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes my chest tighten. It’s a sight I could easily get used to. But since we only have tonight, it’s one I need to savor.
“Looks like I’ve made a new friend,” she says, reaching down to scoop Sourdough into her arms. My cat immediately kneads her shoulder, settling in as if he’s found his new favorite spot.
“Yeah, he’s a good judge of character,” I say, mesmerized, as I watch them together. Her dark hair cascades down her back, the soft curled ends nudging the top of my cat’s head. “Seems like you’ve passed the test.”
She nuzzles her nose into his fur. “And what if I hadn’t?”
“Well, I’d obviously still have sex with you,” I say bluntly. “But only once. And you’d probably have to leave right after.”
Her jaw drops. “And here I was, thinking you were a gentleman.”
“Don’t blame me,” I say with a chuckle. “Blame Sour. Besides, I asked you to come home with me after speaking to you for about five minutes. If you still thought I was a gentleman, then that’s your error.”
She groans. “Allow me to lie to myself, will you?”
“If it’s in my favor,” I say, “go ahead.”
“Thank you for your permission.”
We both laugh as Sourdough hops from her arms and slinks out of the room. It’s as if he’s aware of our intentions and is allowing us the space to be alone. Smart little kitty.
I carefully close the door behind him. When I turn my attention back to Ella, she’s watching me, and the way her dark eyes track my every movement might be even more of a turn-on than the promise of her touch.
“Lights on or off?” I ask.
“You’re giving me the option?”
“I want you to be comfortable,” I say in a soft voice. “I may be dying to see you— all of you—but I’m almost certain I can feel you just as well.”
She flushes, and gulps low in her throat. “Off, then. I, um, I like it better in the dark.”
I flip off the light, leaving only the glow of the moon to filter in through the blinds. Even in the dim light, she’s unbelievably sexy, all smooth skin, long lashes, and a mouth made for sin.
I come closer, cuffing her cheek. “Relax, Ella.”
She shudders at my touch. “I’m trying.”
“Then let me help you.” I run my thumb along her jawline, tracing the contours and memorizing every dip and swell of her face. Her breath hitches as my fingers skim down her neck, pausing at the top of her shirt.
“Can I?”
She nods. “Yes.”
Slowly, so damn slowly, I unbutton her top, revealing inch after delicious inch of pale skin. She shivers against me as the fabric pools at her ankles on the floorboards. Her bra is lace—white lace—with little bows along the straps. Classy, yet sexy as hell.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe as I cup her breasts. “Fuck, Ella …”
Her hands find their way to my fly, unbuckling my pants with surprising ease. “Jesus,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “You’re as impatient as I am.”
She lets out a breath as she pushes my pants down around my hips, my erection straining against my boxer briefs. “Just taking my turn,” she counters. “Fair is fair.”
Without breaking eye contact, I unhook her bra, dropping it carelessly onto the floor. Her tits spill out, and they’re perfect—moderately sized, full, and plump, one slightly larger than the other with these pert rosy nipples—and all I can think about is how much I’d like to fuck them.
Properly, and multiple times.
Next come the panties—lacy and light purple—and oh, God, I can see the folds of her pussy right through them. My cock throbs at the sight, begging for release already.
“Fucking unbelievable,” I say.
She ducks her head shyly. “Mmm.”
“Don’t,” I say, tipping her chin up with my index finger.
“You are beyond gorgeous. A woman who makes me want her just by existing. Give me a few hours and I can show you exactly how much I mean that. I’m gonna fill you up, stretch you out, make you feel so damn good that you won’t ever doubt it again. ”
“Is that so?” she asks, biting her lip in a way that has my cock twitching in agreement.
“That’s so,” I say firmly.
She believes me; I can tell by the way she looks at me then, with a newfound confidence shining in her eyes. “Then I won’t argue with you,” she says, standing taller. She steps out of her panties and crawls seductively onto the bed, propping herself up on one elbow.
Her dark brown hair fans out across the bed. Her eyes, a perfect blend of green and gold, blink up at me through heavy lashes. And there’s this tiny white bow in her hair, too. She’s like a poised and pretty package I can’t wait to unwrap.
“My turn again,” she purrs, crooking a finger my way.
I waste no time in shedding my boxers and climbing onto the mattress with her. Our bodies meld together perfectly, her soft breasts against my hard chest, our legs entwined. Her touches are light but sure—as if she knows exactly where to put her hands and how much pressure to apply.
“Fuck,” I moan as her nails rake down my backside, sending shivers along my spine. “Yeah, El, I like that. Keep going.”
She obliges, scratching lightly along my back. Her lips trail small kisses down my neck, and I feel as though I’m fully melting inside.
Then—before I can even register what’s happening—she’s on top of me, grinding herself against my cock as her eyes bore into mine. Hazel pools of desire reflect back at me, dark and unapologetically hungry.
“Condom?” she pants out between kisses, bucking against me with a needy whimper.
“Nightstand,” I manage to rasp out before her lips reattach to my neck. “But first, you should consider letting me go down on you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I want to kiss you there. Lick you. Get you nice and wet and ready for me.”
Her thighs clench, and I smirk. “Is that a yes?”