Hudson smiles. “There are some advantages to being the owner.”
“Meaning you asked for this to be set up when you heard that I was here?” I slide myself down onto the couch, crossing my legs and letting the sheer robe fall open.
He sits down next to me, close enough to touch, but not. “Exactly.”
Everything in here is perfect and gorgeous from the butter softness of this couch to the crystal champagne glasses. He’s the one who leans forward and fills those same glasses and hands me one.
“Why champagne?”
“Why not?”
I give him a look and he laughs. “I thought it was appropriate.”
“Okay, what are we celebrating?”
“Well,” he clears his throat, “we can celebrate that you haven’t spilled anything on me.”
“There’s still time.” I clink my glass against his and take a sip. It’s like a bottled cloud, perfectly dry and fizzy and easily the best champagne that I’ve ever had. “Wow.”
Hudson is smirking. “Here at Club Deep we go above and beyond to make sure that our clients have only the best.”
I take another sip. “But something tells me that not every customer gets this.”
He nods, conceding the point, and I take another drink. It’s hard not to when it’s so damn good. Emptying the glass, I put it on the table and lean closer to Hudson. I can see his eyes are a deep brown in the mask, but not a flat brown. It’s the kind that has depth. If you looked into them when the sun was shining you’d see all different shades of brown and maybe even some green around the edges. All I know right now is that they’re focused on me with an intensity that drags up that arousal that’s becoming familiar tonight. “But really,” I say, lowering my voice. There’s a sensation in the air that feels like it might be broken if I raise my voice any more. “What are we celebrating?”
Hudson tips the rest of his champagne back and places his glass on the table next to mine. “Have you ever felt like something was meant to happen?”
“Depends on what you mean,” I say, giving him a coy smile. I know what he’s referring to. But the champagne is making me bold, and I’m here in my underwear with a sexy man and I want nothing more than to not be myself. So I won’t be. He’ll like this version of me better.
“I mean that when you spilled coffee on me this morning, it felt…” his voice disappears, and he just stares at me.
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”
His throat moves as he swallows. “I didn’t actually think that you would come. Even though I hoped that you would.”
I move closer again. “And what did you hope would happen if I did show up?”
“I think we’re moving closer to the realm of fantasy,” he says, smiling.
“Does that mean I’m not allowed to hear it?”
Our lips are so close it almost feels like we’re touching even though there’s a sliver of air between us. One of us has to make the first move, but this feeling is electric—we’re on the verge of something we both know we won’t be able to take back. It will be too big to take back.
“I don’t know if it’s fair for me to tell you my fantasies when I’m trying to help you find yours,” he says softly.
Confidence slithers up my spine and I arch into him, pressing my body into his even though our lips still aren’t touching. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we use your fantasies in order to find mine? That way we both get what we want.” Reaching out, I put my hand on him. Right where he’s hard. I have never done something like this, and it feels good. Exhilarating. I try not to marvel at how big he is through his pants, try not to move or breathe, just let my statement sit. Let him take it in.
Hudson closes the gap and his lips are on mine. Oh god, it’s been so long since I’ve just been kissed, I’ve got butterflies in my stomach and everything. His lips are soft, and as he presses them harder onto mine, I feel his hand on my waist, fingers stroking the skin there. Even just that touch lights me up. My body is reacting so strongly, so quickly, that I blush. Even though it’s been a long time, I didn’t realize that it would feel like this. It’s never felt like this. Ever.