Chapter Five #2
“And?” He tangles his fingers in my hair, tugging on the strands as he twists the long pieces.
“He turned out to sell energy drinks and wanted Damon to endorse the company’s newest product. Austin, as Damon’s agent, had already turned him down, but he figured I’d have more of an in, being his sister and his publicist. At that point, I pretty much swore off men.”
“You deserve someone who wants you for you. For all the special qualities that you bring to the table.” His voice comes out like a low rumble, and the gruff sound turns me on despite the fact that I’ve just come harder than I ever have in my life.
“Care to name those qualities?” I ask, teasing him.
“Are you searching for a compliment?” He pulls me on top of him, and our bodies align, his soft cock beginning to harden against my stomach.
I let out a soft laugh. “What woman wouldn’t want to hear all her positive traits?”
“Hmm. Well, you’re beautiful and intelligent.”
Heat rises to my cheeks at the compliments. “Do go on.”
He wraps his hands around my lower back, his fingers resting on my rear end. “You’re sexy, you have a great sense of humor, and you know your worth. All things I admire about you.”
My heart softens at his words, and I know I am falling hard and fast for Hudson Northfield. “And you’re the first person to see past my family. The only guy who is with me for me. You don’t want or need anything from me, and I appreciate that more than you know.”
My lips slide over his, and soon he is back in charge, giving me deep, drugging kisses that have my head spinning and my body tingling with arousal. He pushes himself off me and rips a condom from the strip he tossed on the bed, tears into it, and rolls it over his now hard cock.
Next thing I know, he sits up and grabs me around the waist, positioning me over him so his straining cock is poised at my entrance.
His hands grip my hips as I lower myself onto him, and his thick erection stretches me in the best possible way.
I close my eyes and moan, rocking my body forward and back, waves of arousal lifting me higher.
My nipples pucker, and he notices, reaching out and tweaking the hardened tips with his fingers, causing me to clamp around him.
“Fuck. You feel so good.”
“So do you.” I ride him hard, but no matter what I do, my orgasm remains elusively out of reach. I raise myself up and down, but I can’t come. “I’m trying, but I can’t…” I groan my frustration.
His dilated gaze softens, and an understanding look crosses his face. “Climb off.”
Confused, I settle on my knees beside him. “What’s wrong?”
He treats me to a sexy grin. “Not a thing except we’re changing positions.”
I lift my eyebrows. “We are?”
He hooks an arm around my waist and whispers in my ear, “Get on all fours, sweetheart. I know how to make you come.”
I shiver and do as he asks, settling on my hands and knees. He comes up behind me, his hot body covering mine, his thick cock at my entrance. He pushes in, going slow until he fills me, and I suck in a breath as he bottoms out completely.
After pulling out, he thrusts back in, hitting exactly the right spot.
“Yes,” I say on a hiss, pushing back against him, and he begins repeating the motion. He is right; I will definitely come this way and fast.
Especially when he reaches around and slides his finger over my clit. A loud moan escapes my lips, and I tremble. “Harder,” I urge him.
Not only does he pick up the pace of each thrust, he rubs my clit harder, pinching then gliding the pad of a finger over the now sensitive bud.
I moan, bracing my arms for every slam of his body into mine.
Feeling him everywhere, I give myself over to him, allowing him to guide and control both the pace and the timing of when I’ll come.
I trust him to take care of me, and he is doing exactly that.
“Turn your head toward me,” he says in a rough voice.
I twist my neck, and he captures my lips in a harsh kiss, all the while grinding his hips against me. His cock hits a place that shatters what little sanity remains.
Our mouths separate as my orgasm begins and continues with every push and grind of our bodies together.
White stars flash behind my eyes as a rush sounds in my ears, my entire being alight with pleasure.
The gratification continues, a second orgasm coming on the heels of the first at the same time Hudson shouts from behind me.
Faster thrusts, another heavy groan, and he stills, his cock pulsing inside me as he empties himself, and his climax eases.
We collapse together on the bed, his hard, sweaty body on top of mine. My breath comes in short pants, and I try to take slower, steadier streams of air.
He slides out of me, and I feel the loss, the disconnection of our bodies as he rolls to the side. As he propped himself on one arm, his heavy-lidded gaze meets mine. “Told you I had it handled.”
I grin, unable to deny he did, in fact, make me come just as he’d promised. “We click,” I say, not embarrassed to admit that fact.
“Yes, we do.” He kisses the tip of my nose and flips over, climbing out of bed and walking to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
He returns and shuts off the lights over the bed, joining me under the covers and pulling me tight against him. “I wish we could skip the rest of the family part of the weekend,” he mutters.
“It will be fine. I can handle your parents, and I don’t take it personally. Ignore them, and we’ll have fun. I’m looking forward to meeting Serena. If you two are close, I’m sure I’ll like her.”
“You will, and she’ll like you.” He hugs me tighter. “Then I’ll get the conversation about funding the clinic over with, and we can head home.”
“Sounds good.” My eyelids are getting heavy. “We’ll figure everything out,” I assure him.
“I believe we can.”
* * *
Hudson
Serena married in a typical Northfield affair at the country club her parents belong to. Her now-husband may not be of the same social class, and Serena’s parents don’t really approve of the union, but they’d caved and had thrown their only daughter the wedding of her dreams.
I am happy for my cousin, who beams as Bri and I greet her on the reception line.
“I’ve missed you!” Serena pulls me into a big hug, so unlike the older generation of our family who air-kiss or shake hands in greeting.
I wrap her in an embrace before stepping back so my cousin and I can make the introductions between Bri and Serena’s husband, Mark.
When those are complete, Serena looks from me to Bri and smiles. “I like her, and you look happy,” she says as Bri makes conversation with Mark.
I have no doubt it is obvious from the way I wrap an arm possessively around her waist that Bri isn’t just arm candy. “That’s because I am.”
She lifts herself onto her toes and whispers in my ear, “Then don’t let her go.”
“I don’t intend to,” I say with a grin.
Beside me, Bri has overheard and turns her head to meet my gaze, eyes wide as I nudge her with my hip. “We should get going and let other people talk to the bride and groom.” I wink at her before glancing at the happy couple. “Congratulations and enjoy your lives.”
“In other words, ignore the parents. Got it.” Serena treats us to a genuine smile. “We will.”
“Nice to meet you and congratulations,” Bri says, then I lead her away from the receiving line, and we make our way to a private corner of the room.
“It was a beautiful ceremony,” she says.
I smile, my eyes on her. “You’re beautiful.”
“You like the dress?” She spins around, giving me a complete view of the rose-gold with lace, low-cut V-neck that accentuates her full breasts and hugs her curves. The choice is the perfect gown for the occasion. And for her body.
Because she’d co-opted our hotel suite for the day for hair, makeup, and who knows what other feminine things, I only had a few minutes to change into my tux and get a good glimpse of her fully made-up and dressed before we had to leave.
I study her now, her beautiful face, her unique-colored eyes accentuated with liner and thick lashes, glowing skin, and pink, shiny lips.
And her gorgeous dark hair flowing over her shoulders in waves.
“I love everything about you,” I say, the words escaping before I can censor them. Taken in context, they can mean anything, but in my heart, they hold deeper meaning. I am falling fast for my best friend’s sister.
Her eyes open wide, and her mouth parts in surprise. “I—”
“Son! It’s good to see you.” My father’s voice interrupts us. So typical, as if last night’s scene never happened. At least that bodes well for my money pitch. But my father has shitty timing.
Bri and I turn to face my parents.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Northfield,” Bri says with a smile.
They murmur polite hellos back but don’t ask her to be less formal. Also typical.
“Mom, Dad, we are just going to dance.” I slide my hand into Bri’s. She’s removed her bandages, and the wounds are already beginning to heal.
“You’ll come by early tomorrow to talk as planned?” my father asks, an anticipatory and excited gleam in his eyes.
I know better than to give my father warning about the topic of conversation. Surprise will be on my side. “Yes, I’ll be there.” And this time, I’ll be leaving Bri at the hotel. No need to subject her to my parents’ version of politeness, which actually borders on rude behavior.
“Looking forward to seeing you, son.”
My mother pats my shoulder, and they walk away.
“Are they always so pleasant?”
“Unfortunately, yes. There’s a reason I’m living in Florida. Can we not focus on them?” I ask, wrapping an arm around her and leading her toward the dance floor.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of wedding routines, from toasts to someone clinking or tapping glasses together and demanding the bride and groom kiss to the throwing of the garter and the bouquet.
Apparently Bri and I have the same feelings about the rituals, because I try to avoid the cluster of single men grouped to see who caught the item and will be next to marry.
As the superstition says. But Serena catches my gaze, walks over, and pulls me into the crowd, positioning me at the right side of the men.
I stand there, feeling like an ass, hating the spectacle, and I’m not surprised when the groom throws the garter directly to the side Serena placed me on.
I walk off the dance floor, cheeks burning, garter in my hand, and everyone cheers. Especially Bri, who’s found the entire incident amusing … until Serena pulls the same routine before she tosses the bouquet.
We climb into the back of the town car I’d hired to drive us to and from the hotel, Bri still laughing over our predicaments. “I suppose we’re getting married sometime next year,” she says, still giggling, slightly tipsy from too much champagne.
I lean my head back and laugh. “If Serena has her way, we are.” I ought to be shaken up by the idea.
I’ve never thought about marriage, mostly because any time the subject comes up, it has been with my parents after they’d chosen the perfect potential bride. The thought made me want to puke. But the notion of marriage with the right woman, with the woman by my side? That doesn’t disturb me at all.
But until I have my life settled and know I have my goals and plans in the works, I can’t think about the future. In the meantime, I have Bri in my life, and she isn’t going anywhere.