The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

Remember your list, Felicia.

“Sorry. I wake up grumpy,” she said, going for a cool-and-collected scientist in action vibe. “Let’s start over with a debrief. Any notes?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Notes?”

“Areas I can improve on for Tyler.” Now that wasn’t awkward or anything considering she was naked and in bed with Hudson.

She wasn’t a virgin by any means, but sleeping with one man in an effort to land another was vastly uncharted territory for her. That way be dragons. And orgasms. Shut up, horny Felicia. A nervous giggle bubbled up and escaped her tightly clenched lips.

“For Tyler,” he said, each word coming out with an edgy slowness. His jaw tightened. It was almost imperceptible, but she caught it.

“Yes, my technique,” she continued as Team What-The-Fuck-Are-You-Doing buzzed in her stomach, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from pushing him farther away. “The slow burn. The whole, flirting and teasing but not taunting thing.”

He let out a dry bark of a laugh. “I think you have it down pat.” He rolled out of the bed and grabbed his jeans from the floor. “You can’t go wrong with any of the moves I taught you.”

“You’re that good?” As if she didn’t know and if the sore muscles in her thighs wouldn’t be telling her all day long.

He turned around, his jeans still unbuttoned, his chest bare, and a wicked smile on his face. Her mouth went dry as fast as other parts of her got wet.

“Matches, we both know I am.”

Some of the tension leaked out of her, and she chuckled. This man. He was something else. “Your ego needs its own zip code.”

He shrugged. “Never said it didn’t.”

“So, what’s

next?” she asked, fighting the screaming demands of her body to jump him here and now. “Am I ready for a date?”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his tone neutral.

Her stomach flipped and then flopped before landing like an anvil in her abdomen. “Isn’t that why last night happened?”

He paused, staring at her like he could see all the secrets she had, including that time in ninth grade when she’d tried to kiss Tyler and ended up making out with his collarbone. Long story. Long, embarrassing story of an awkward short girl and her first beer.

“I’ll see what I can work out,” he said. “You need to walk before you run.”

Ignoring the inexplicable nugget of disappointment poking her chest, she grabbed ahold of the reason why all this was happening. Because she wasn’t ready? Because he was still trying to help her land another man? They both had skin in the game. “And when I do, everyone will be happy—your brother, too. I don’t know what I can do to help there, but I’m a quick learner.”

There went that panty-melting, if practiced, smolder of his. “That you are.”

Hudson snapped his jeans closed and then leaned across and brushed his lips across her forehead. The brief touch was as frustrating as it was a relief. Really. It was a relief. She didn’t want more. Lesson time was over.

Without another word, he strolled out of her bedroom, and a minute later she heard her front door click shut followed by a plaintive meow from Honeypot. Meanwhile, she couldn’t look away from the blue dress lying on the floor next to her bed as she realized that Hudson had—again—left her with no clue what was going to happen next and what exactly he meant by learning to walk.

Chapter Twelve

Hudson was restless. Itchy. Growly. Normally that meant he needed a brush in his hand and a blank canvas in his sights. Since he had both of those things at the moment, he grumbled to himself and picked up his phone—the one he’d been eyeballing constantly since he left Felicia’s the night before last. His fingers worked as fast on the keyboard as they had on his cock every time he thought about the face she’d made when she’d come apart on his dick.

Hudson: Name three interesting facts about yourself.

He stared at the phone, willing her to answer. As soon as the three little dots appeared on his screen, his shoulders relaxed.

Felicia: Why?

He grinned. Persnickety little Matches.

Hudson: It’s called conversation.