“I’d like to replace them,” he said, “your shoes, that is, since they mean that much to you.”
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t let you do that,” she cleared her throat and shook her head, “I apologize if I came off as shallow, I just, uh, like shoes,” her cheeks were flaming now.
“It’s not shallow to like nice things and I could never think badly about you, sweet. Besides, it would be my pleasure.”
Somehow, he was even closer to her than before. So much so, she breathed in the faint peppermint fragrance that seemed to cling to him along with another deeper, masculine scent that made her stomach clench.
Whoa. He really was massive. With shoulders easily twice the width of her own, Hudson was powerfully built. Strong, as he’d already demonstrated, and tall. He loomed over her position on his bed and she realized she’d never felt quite so small.
“What are you six-foot three?” she asked.
Her pulse was racing and heart pounded inside her chest. It was crazy. Inappropriate. Definitely the wrong time. And yet Fergie was completely and overwhelmingly attracted to the man.
“Six-foot five,” he grunted.
“Whoa. That’s big.”
Were all her responses going to be so blasé? She shuddered at the thought. She couldn’t do this here with him. Flirting was not her strong suit.
She needed a different atmosphere. A change of clothes. A pair of clean, unbroken gorgeousness on her feet to help boost her confidence.
She couldn’t even imagine what she looked like. Then again her rescuer, Hudson Stormwolfe, she savored his name in her mind, did not seem to care about her current state of dishevelment.
“I got over a foot on you, tidbit,” he grinned.
“That’s not hard to do,” she laughed.
“I like the sound of your laughter. You should do it more.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes,” was his only reply.
Awareness seemed to kindle between them, fanning the flame to her already heightened state of arousal. His size, his scent, the heat radiating from his impossibly large frame, were attractive to her. Everything about him was.
She breathed in the airy light scent of mint and man, and a soft moan slipped past her lips. What was it about this man that made her want to reach up and run her fingers along the bit of scruff that only made him even more handsome? She was not a particularly forward person when it came to sex. She liked sex. She’d had it before, though for the most part it had been rather unsuccessful. Still, she’d never actually initiated the act before, but for him she seemed to lose all inhibitions.
“This isn’t normal for me,” she blurted, eyes going wide at her own brashness.
“I know what you mean,” he murmured and inched closer.
Fergie’s eyes dropped to half-mast. Her nipples pebbled inside the bra making the normally soft fabric feel abrasive to her tender flesh. She couldn’t seem to control her body’s reactions to his presence.
All her girly bits seemed to be paying very close attention to the man. She knew all the reasons she should get up and leave, but for some reason, she didn’t want to.
Fergie trusted him. To take care of her, to treat her well, and keep her safe. It was unexplainable, but she just did. Warning bells sounded in her head, but her heart ignored them. It wasn’t every day a man who looked like that came along and made her feel like she was the sexiest thing on the planet.
Not even close, she thought. Really, when was the last time Fergie felt this way? There was only one honest answer and that was never.
She decided to throw caution to the wind. Chances like this didn’t grow on trees. Not in New Jersey at any rate. His big body seemed to give off heat, warming her, tempting her. Yes, she wanted him closer. Wanted his mouth on hers. His skin touching, arming hers. His hands on her body.
Yes, she wanted him. Right then and there.
“Who are you?” she whispered as he leaned down, eyes opened, and brushed his hard lips across her mouth.
“You know who I am, nushe,” he breathed the strange word into her mouth as he fully claimed her lips this time around.
Fergie didn’t have a single defense against him. She craved his kiss more than anything else in the world. The sense of rightness was nearly overwhelming as his tongue entered her mouth and dueled with hers.
Yes, she thought as he pulled moan after moan from her throat. He was one hell of a kisser. Fergie reveled in it. She clung to his shoulders, needing his hard body to steady hers.
A deep, throbbing ache flared to life inside of her, starting between her legs. Fergie whimpered as if he was touching her there. She could almost feel him stroking her swollen flesh with those magnificently long fingers of his.
Thankfully, her skirt was already ripped making it easier to maneuver. She opened her legs wide enough to cradle his hard form as he pushed her down into the mattress and settled over her.
She loved the feeling of his weight pressing down on her. So dominant, so possessively male. A whimper escaped her throat as he held her face and tilted it to the side. Right where he wanted her, he held her still with one hand, and plundered her mouth with his.
He felt so damn good. Fergie moaned and wiggled beneath him. Holy shit. She could’ve come without him ever doing more than just that. Her brain was screaming at her to slow down, but she didn’t want to.
“This is too fast,” she managed.
Hell no, she wanted to scream at herself. She didn’t want him to stop. On the contrary, she wanted him to keep going. Hudson Stormwolfe might’ve been a stranger a few hours ago, but she felt closer to him than anyone else in the world.
“But it feels so good, sweet,” he growled and nipped her earlobe sending tendrils of desire unfurling through her body, “doesn’t it feel good?”
“Yes,” she moaned, unable or unwilling to lie, take your pick.
He was so much more handsome than any other man she’d ever seen. Glowing blue eyes, strong features, perfect body. And yet that wasn’t all. She seemed to know instinctively that he was good and kind.
And how she wanted him. Hell, Fergie was desperate to have him. She was on fire, burning with need, and he seemed to know it.
Intuitively, he gave her what she wanted. Like he knew how she felt before she did. Anticipating her desires before she even knew what they were, he growled and deepened the kiss. Tracing every dip and mound, every curve with his hands and mouth, Hudson unraveled all her secrets, wrecking her for any other man. She moaned around that clever tongue of his, welcoming his invasion as his hard, muscled body moved against hers in a pantomime of what was to come.
Hopefully, the both of them, she thought wickedly. Hell, she basked in the naughty little image of him entering her with that wonderfully large erection she felt pressing against her. Moisture flooded her panties, and Fergie groaned again.
“Mine,” Hudson grunted her new favorite word.
It was so hot and raw. The possessive word was not something she’d ever heard during sex, but she liked it. A lot. He kissed her neck and chin, before reclaiming her mouth as his hands dipped between her legs for a teasing little rub.
He didn’t let up, not for a second. He just kept kissing her. Pinning her to the bed with his hard body, stroking her mouth with his insanely adept tongue. Fuck, Fergie meant it when she’d said he was hard.