The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

His hands were still on her hips, anchoring her to him, but she had no idea what to say, what to do…until she did. The idea had barely formed before she dipped her head lower and brought her mouth down to his. Kissing Hudson was like diving off a cliff into the ocean—exhilarating and totally nuts. She shouldn’t be doing this. The thought fought its way to the surface, but before she could act on it, his tongue swept into her mouth, teasing and tempting and making her forget everything else but how damn good he made her feel. Everything had gone electric. The moans sounding soft against her ears, they were her—and every time one escaped, he pulled her closer against him, his fingers gripping her tight. Just when it seemed she was either going to implode or explode from the intensity of it, he broke the kiss, his hungry lips tracing the line of her jaw.

“That is the hottest sound I’ve ever heard.” His words were gruff, muffled as they were against her skin as he kissed and nibbled his way toward her ear. “Someday, I’m going to turn that sound into a painting that I’ll never sell.”

Too turned on and needy to make sense of his words, Felicia let them flow over her as she gripped his strong shoulders and gave in to the desire sweeping through her. This man. Hudson. He was infuriating and manipulative and the most amazing kisser she’d ever met. So distracting were his lips on her throat that she didn’t even realize he was inching up her skirt until she felt air on her thighs.

“Spread your legs as wide as you can for me,” he said, raising her skirt until it was bunched near the top of her legs.

She stilled, doubt holding her hostage. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

Her mind was a jumble of words and phrases, none of which made sense at the moment.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he said. “Never think you have to.”

Want? Want? She wanted it all. Despite knowing that a man like Hudson Carlyle wasn’t for a girl like her—and that the man who was right for her was sitting in his apartment on the other side of Harbor City—she did want. Badly. So she relaxed her grip on his shoulders and spread her legs as far as the ottoman would let her. The moment she did, he rewarded her by gliding his hands lower over her bare skin and slipping underneath her dress hem.

His sharp intake of breath matched her own the moment his thumb slid over the bare, desire-swollen flesh at the apex of her thighs. “No panties?”

She groaned as he glided his thumb closer to where she wanted him to go. “Oh God…hate them.”

“I will happily burn every single pair from every single store in Harbor City if you want.”

That grin of his, it was more smolder now than straight smile. It made her core tighten with enough force that another small moan escaped. She couldn’t take it—not any longer.

“All I want,” she said, breathing hard and adjusting her stance to give him better access, “is you…touching me.”

He inched his thumb over, caressing her outer lips. “You need it, huh?”

“God yes,” she said, letting her head fall back.

He pulled his hand back far enough that he wasn’t touching her but not so much that she lost the sense of just how close he was to her most sensitive spot. “How bad?”

“Is this your idea of teasing me?” she asked, squeezing her eyes shut as frustrations of all varieties mounted.

“No, this is me turning you on.” He nipped at the pulse point at the base of her throat before kissing it better. “I see the way the pulse in your neck speeds up every time I drag things out, every time I start talking dirty.”

“This isn’t talking dirty.” A little face saving while she all but begged a man who made her irrational to make her come? Sure. That’s a great plan, Hartigan.

“Oh yeah, care to take the lead?”

“Only if you promise to leave me speechless,” she said, pulling from a sass reserve buried deep in her subconscious.

He froze and she worried she’d said too much, then he raised his mouth from the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder and brought it close to her ear. “Done.”

“Make me come.”

Before she could say anything else, the pad of his thumb grazed her hard clit, circling over the top of it, and she lost the ability to do anything but react because he was right. She was already on the edge from his teasing denial. It did make her thighs shake in anticipation of all the things this man could do between them. And he was. First one finger than another sliding between her wet folds and circling her sensitive opening as he strummed her clit with his thumb. It was too much and not even slightly close enough. Then he slipped both fingers inside her, filling her up so much better than her battery-operated boyfriend ever could. The sensation of fullness took her breath away, and she moved her hips to the rhythm he’d started.

“That’s it, Matches, ride my hand and get yourself off on me so that later tonight I’ll be able to smell your sweetness right before I wrap my hands around my hard co

ck and jerk off to the memory of the way you look right now.”

Something about the gravel in his tone as he pumped his thick fingers inside her, twisting and curling them to hit every sensitive spot she had made her thighs quake as her body climbed higher and higher. She was close, so damn close. Just a little bit longer.

“Damn, you squeeze my fingers so tight. I can’t wait to feel how it feels around my cock when I’ve got you spread eagle on the bed, and I’m fucking you so deep that my balls are bouncing off your ass.”

The mental image of him over her, his hair falling low over his forehead as he pounded into her was all it took to push her over the edge. She barely recognized the strangled cry ripped from her throat as her voice broke and her back arched and the best climax ever rushed through her like a tsunami.