Bruiser (Seattle Sharks 7)

“You look like a fucking treat,” he growled.

Heat soared over my skin as he devoured me with nothing but his eyes.

“What should I taste first?” A wicked smirk on those lips as he trailed a fingertip over my ribs, down to my hip, over the hem of the lace, and back up again.

“Hudson.” I sighed his name, needing more contact, more of him.

He laughed hoarsely at my impatience, and gently gripped my hips, backing me up against the door.

“Shea,” he mimicked me, lightly kissing my neck, my bare shoulder, and over my collarbone. One hand grazed my skin, fire underneath his touch, while the other slipped over the lace, teasing between my thighs with touches that were too light, too quick.

I arched against his hand, trying like hell to get the pressure that my body begged for, ached for.

“Here?” he whispered, his voice guttural as he slipped a finger beneath the lace. He growled at the wetness he found there.

Sparks danced over my eyes, my entire being focusing on where his hand now played in a lazy sort of way. Like he had no intention of taking me hard and fast against the door. Like he had eons of time to draw his name from my lips.

“Or here?” he asked, sliding a finger into my warmth.

Lightning shot down my spine, and I moved on him.

He captured my mouth with his as he added another finger, stretching my walls that ached and pulsed to the rhythm he set. I arched against him as he made love to me with those fingers, sighing into his mouth as his tongue danced with mine.

Consuming.

That’s what he was. The taste of him, the scent of him, the way he played my body like an instrument he’d mastered? It was enough to drench me.

He teased my clit with his thumb, light flicks that had me groaning between his lips.

Faster he pumped, yanking his lips away to watch my eyes.

The moment so charged and coiled I was scared I might burst.

“Let me take care of you,” he said, his voice low, his breath warm and mingling with my own. “Let me show you what it’s like to be mine.”

I dug my fingers into his strong shoulders as he circled my clit with his thumb, pressing harder as I rocked against his hand.

And I lost my control.

Let him own me completely.

“Hudson!” I screamed, my head arching back as I clenched my eyes shut, the sparks and flames too bright to take as they shot across my skin, down my spine, and collected between my thighs. Over and over again I shuddered, never once fearing he’d let me fall.

I caught my breath as he slowly, gently withdrew his hand, and brought his index finger to his mouth. He wrapped his lips around it and sucked. “Such a delicious treat,” he said, and I was sure I would combust from the heat under my skin, from the want of him. “Think I’ll have seconds,” he said, and swept an arm behind my knee, cradling me to his chest as he whisked us to the bed.

Gently, he laid me down, before backing up to take off his clothes. I watched every move, my breath quick, my skin sensitive and swollen for him.

Gloriously naked, I took in the sight of him. The way his muscles were taut, the way the dark ink decorated his skin, making him look like some ancient tribal warrior who had long since lost fear of anyone or anything.

He nudged my knees apart with his hands, spreading me wide after he’d slipped the lace off. And then his mouth was on me and stars burned behind my eyes—white hot and shooting across the sky in my mind.

“God, Hudson!” I couldn’t contain or comprehend the words. Couldn’t think of anything beyond his tongue dipping in to taste me.

“Mmm,” he responded, the vibrations from the sound curling my toes as I arched into his mouth.

“Now,” I said, my breaths coming too fast, my heart trying like hell to leave my body. “I need you right now, Hudson.”

He drew back, looking up at me from between my thighs, and the sight of him there, on his knees in the bed, feasting on me…

“Demanding woman,” he growled, a smile on his lips. He made to move off the bed, likely to retrieve a foil packet.

“No,” I said, wrapping my legs around his hips. “I want you. All of you.”

He stilled like he needed the control of his muscles to stop himself from plunging inside me that second. “Shea.”

“I got on the pill,” I said. “After that first kiss.”

The wicked grin grew wider. “You knew it would come to this?” he teased.

“How could it not?” I made a point to slowly trail my eyes the length of his body, stopping to linger on the wonderful size of him.

“You’re sure?” he asked, already situating himself between my thighs, his elbows on either side of my head.

“I haven’t been with a man in nine years, Hudson. No one until you. I think I was waiting for you the entire time...I just didn’t know it. And I want to feel all of you,” I said by way of answer, and rolled my hips against him for good measure.

A tremor racked his body, so I did it again.

And again.

He stayed so incredibly still above me, those eyes on mine as I teased him, soaking him in the warmth he’d created.

And when I couldn’t stand a second more, I reached a hand between us and fisted that considerable length, guiding it right to the center of me.

“Hudson,” I begged when he held himself at the edge of me. “Please.”

The plea loosed the tether he’d had on himself, and he plunged inside me. Slow and deep and searing, until he was sheathed to the hilt. Then he drew back out and did it over again. Each time with a little more power, and I met him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck, Shea.” He slipped his hands beneath my ass, hefting me up to get a deeper angle.

I moaned as he slid in and in and in.

Writhed against him as I tightened and shook against him.

Screamed as his grip held firm, his pace increasing.

I was on fire.

A coiled spring of molten flame, the sparks teasing each one of my nerve endings. The feel of him, bare and hot and huge, the way he filled every space, every piece of my soul—God, it splintered my mind until I was nothing but the pleasure he wrenched out of me.

Faster.

Harder.

“God, yes, Hudson, damn.”

I was a wild, incoherent thing, shooting off into orbit.

“Shea,” he growled. He hardened inside me like granite, and I moaned.

“Yes!” I tight

ened around him. “Come with me,” I said, begged.

“Fuck, Shea.” The words, the way he slightly trembled, sent me over the edge.

I shattered around him, flew apart so much I was certain nothing but sparking embers remained. And as he found his release inside me, I held his gaze—that strong, penetrating gaze—and I gave myself to him in every way that mattered.

Chapter 13

Hudson

“You look uncomfortable,” Shea remarked as I shifted on the bleachers of the small rink.

“I’m not used to being on this side of the glass,” I said, watching Elliott’s team warm up before their second game. “I can’t do anything from here but watch.”

Shea laughed. “Welcome to parenting. It’s a whole lot of watching from this side of the glass in the game of life.”

“I still can’t believe you let her play.” I watched Elliot’s footwork, glad I’d stopped in and tied her skates for her. They’d been too loose the last game, and her ankles had suffered.

“Me either,” Shea admitted, gripping my hand as the kids gathered at their respective benches to get the last-minute pep talk. “I knew I had to let her try, or it would have become the issue of the next decade.”

She’d sat through the entire first game clenching my hand until she realized that the biggest danger Elliott really faced out there was her own feet. Sure, there was the chance she’d trip over another player, hit the boards, or just plain fall, but there wasn’t anything resembling physical contact at this level.

The kids were all just happy to stay on their feet.

I pushed up the sleeves on my Mini-Sharks hoodie and curved the brim of my baseball hat. We’d gotten more than a few looks from the other parents on the team, but they’d all been respectfully discreet about my presence.

“She’s not starting?” Shea asked, leaning forward.

“Now who’s the competitive one?” I teased. “Have to remember, she’s athletic, but some of these kids have already been skating a few years...or more.”