The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

Hudson clenched his hands into fists. “What did Captain Clueless do?” Whatever it was, he was going to pay for it.

“Tyler?” She blinked. “Nothing.”

Something had happened, and he was going to do whatever it took to fix it. He just had to find out what happened first. “Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?”

She clamped down on Honeypot as the cat renewed its attempts to break free. “I always get that way when I’m in the middle of a fascinating article about honeypot ant queens that can lay two thousand eggs a day.”

Ants. He was keeping her from reading about ants. Relief seeped through the tight knot of his shoulder muscles, knocking out some of the frustrated tension acting as a vice. Of course, that only left the Felicia-sized hole inside him, and nature abhorred a vacuum. All the want and need and bittersweet-tinged lust roared to the forefront, powerful enough to propel him through the door. He closed it behind him with a backward kick, and he cupped her face in his hands. Honeypot let out a squawk and managed to wriggle free of Felicia’s hold as he backed her up so her ass was against her blue chair. The tip of her tongue snuck out and wet her lips, and he had to bite back a desperate groan.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice breathy as a pink flush colored her cheeks.

“Making a mistake.” One he’d pay for, but he couldn’t care less.

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked up at him. “Then why not leave?”

“I can’t.” And it was the truth—for tonight anyway.

He crashed his mouth down on hers, desperate for her. Sex had never been more than scratching an itch for him—until Felicia. She’d changed everything. This had to be it, the last time, because there was no way he could walk away if they kept this up. Seeing her with Captain Clueless tonight had proven that.

He didn’t strip her bare. There wasn’t time. The need to be the only man she could want for this one moment in time was too strong.

He tore his lips from hers. “Take off those yoga pants.”

She did, her eyes blazing with the same urgency blasting through him. He grabbed his wallet, had his pants shoved down around his thighs and had a condom in his hand by the time she sent the black Lycra sailing through the air.

“Are you wet for me?” he asked as he rolled it on. “Even without me even touching you?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice husky with desire.

“How wet?”

She slipped her hand between her legs. Despite her wide stance, the long length of her T-shirt kept him from seeing as much as she wanted. Frustration nipped at him, making his muscles tighten as he watched her wrist push against the hem of her shirt. He wanted to holler at her to stop and keep going forever at the same time. Damn, this woman and her ability to make him insane. And just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, she lifted her busy hand to her lips, mimicking his move from weeks ago, and traced her glistening finger across her lips.

Challenge gleaming in her eyes, she asked, “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

Whatever tenuous hold he had on his sanity snapped. Whatever happened next didn’t matter. It was just about right now.

He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up at the same time as he spun around so his ass was propped against the blue chair. Demanding mouth on his, fingers yanking against his hair, she lifted her hips enough that the head of his cock was at her entrance. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t tease. Without even a heartbeat of a pause, she impaled herself on him, sliding down until he was buried to the hilt and her legs were wrapped snug around his waist.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” And wet. Jesus the sounds their bodies made as they moved together.

He squeezed her bucking hips in his hands, helping her to raise and lower herself so fast it was nearly a blur.

“Love how you fill me up,” she said, panting. “How you make me want more, even though I know I can’t take it.”

“Oh, you can take it. You can take it all.”

And he wanted to give it to her, every inch and so much more to the woman he loved. The realization made him miss a stroke, but she wasn’t having it. She arched her back and reached below them cupping his balls.

“I’m so close.” She let out a yearning moan. “Just fuck me as hard as you can.”

That he could do. Renewing his efforts, he plowed into her as she rode him with an almost frenzied focus. Her bouncing tits were in his face, and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, biting down with enough pressure to elicit a mewl of approval as she sped up her hips, rubbing hard against him where their bodies met on each downward stroke. He bit down again and tugged the stiff peak. She nearly pulled out his hair in response, her core squeezing his dick so tight his climax was making his balls tingle a half second later.

Desperate not to come before her, he ground her against him, making sure her clit made contact. “Matches, I—”

Before he could finish his plea, her entire body bowed, and she cried out. His body responded instantly, his orgasm slamming into him and knocking out everything except for one thought. This whole time he’d thought he was giving the lessons to Felicia, but he’d ended up the one who got schooled.

…