HUDSON (The Beckett Boys, Book Six)

by Olivia Chase

  I feel my bra straps fall down my arms. I open my eyes, and my bra cups are suddenly pulled down, gently exposing my nipples.

  “Perfection,” he breathes, reaching to feel, to outline the circles. His mouth lands on one, kissing it, and it puckers at his touch.

  His mood turns more urgent, more immediate. He sucks on my nipple and my hands are in his hair, my nerve endings on overdrive.

  My God. I must be dripping wet.

  His hands maneuver to my back, where my clasp comes undone. He removes my beautiful blue bra, letting it drop to the floor, and buries his face in my tits. His right hand sneaks down and feels between my legs. I know I’m wet, and now he knows it, too.

  He backs up again, and without a word, pushes my skirt up. I sigh as his tongue trails up the inside of my thigh, to the edge of my panties. He follows the fabric’s edges with his tongue. And then his tongue somehow shoves my panties aside, just the tiniest bit.

  God, he’s close to my pussy. He’s so close I can feel his hot breath against my skin, can feel my clit aching to be sucked.

  He teases me for a while that way. Then, as if he knows he needs no permission, he brings his fingers in, pushing my underwear aside, and begins to explore my bare pussy.

  “You like that,” he whispers. It’s an observation, not a question.

  I do. My soft moan gives me away.

  I suck in air quickly when his finger finds its way inside me. So fluid, so dexterous. Just a swooping motion, and up it slips, right into me. I’m so wet that I can hear the tiny popping noises my juices are making against his finger. And it feels good, so good.

  “You like that more,” he says.

  I don’t bother confirming it verbally. I know he knows, and in answer to that, I feel a second finger slide in. He plays with me, making me almost fall off the bar with pleasure.

  The orgasm comes fast, almost unexpectedly. “Oh!” I breathe, as the pressure washes through me, bouts of heat that I think might burn his fingers.

  Looking satisfied, my host pulls his hand back, wipes his lower lip, and then plunges his hand back under my skirt, where his other hand has migrated down from my nipples. But this time, he grabs my panties, yanking them down over my knees, and pushing them to the floor.

  I am totally bared to him now, and he takes the sight in, eyes darting all over me.

  Again, he licks his way up, this time on my other thigh, and arrives at my hood. He drags his tongue over it, and I gasp as he begins to lick my clit.

  I’ve never been able to come twice in a row, one right after the other. But I’ll let him try.

  His hair is the color of Wailea sand, I decide, as bouts of warmth shoot through me. His tongue swirls, hitting my clit from every angle. I breathe, and let myself absorb the feeling, and the position.

  The feelings of beautiful pressure build again, and I close my eyes, not able to take it, volleying between absorbing it without seeing and feasting my eyes on him, down between my legs, licking, sucking, kissing my pussy.

  “Mmm,” I hear myself utter. “There.”

  He keeps going.

  “Oh,” I moan. It’s going to happen again. “Ahhhhhh.” I lean backwards, catching my breath as the waves of pleasure burn through me like a brush fire.

  He eyes me, looking pleased.

  And then he’s standing up, and I’m reaching out, grabbing for his jeans. I unbutton his pants, my hands trembling a bit as I unzip them. I can feel how erect he is through his gray boxers. I pull his cock out, admiring his length, his beautiful form. It’s without flaw, ramrod straight.

  I slide off the bar, still nearly naked, with my skirt hiked up around me.

  “Fuck,” he murmurs. “You don’t know how much this turns me on, making you feel good.”

  His dick hardens in my hand.

  He puts his arms around me, and he scoops me up, as if I’m weightless. I lean against him as he carries me up the stairs opposite the bar, up to a set of double doors, which open into master suite fit for an emperor.

  Chapter 2

  GAGE

  I carry my gorgeous date to my king-sized bed, where I gently deposit her.

  Is this a date? No, but who gives a fuck?

  She’s still got her skirt on, though it’s all bunched up. I take care of that, removing it for her, leaving her completely naked before me. She reclines, her sexy little body on full display.

  I stand in front of her and pull my shirt off. I see her ocean blue eyes take me in, and I can tell they like what they see. Next to go are my jeans.

  I tower over her in my boxers, waiting to see if she can’t stand it anymore and sits up to do it for me. She does, and her tits bounce as she springs upright and pulls my boxers off.

  “Fuck, your tits look good.” I take her hand and pull it toward my cock, making her stroke it for a while. I’m rock hard just from eating that tight little cunt of hers, but damn if her hand isn’t making me harder.

  Finally, I can’t take it. If she strokes me much longer, I’m going to come all over her hand, and I need to be inside of her. I lower myself onto her. As if we’ve rehearsed this together, she opens her legs for me, and I ease between them, settling above her, kissing her, letting her know I’m ready for this.

  Her breasts are heavy in my hands. Giving her nipple another lick, I locate her sensitive spot with my dick, which is as hard as it’s ever been, and explore.

  She wants it.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, baby,” I say, sucking on her neck. “I’m going to slide right into that tight little pussy.”

  Evidently gone mute, she nods emphatically, eyes shut.

  “Tell me you want to get fucked.”

  “I want to get fucked.” I can tell she’s not used to talking like that, and her innocence makes my cock twitch.

  I enter her. She tenses, drawing a quick breath.

  Holy fucking hell, she feels good.

  I let myself in further, until my entire cock is surrounded. Her pussy is a warm, wet bath, pulling me in, gripping me.

  I love watching her face while I fuck her. She looks like she’s absorbing every second. It’s dark in here, but I can make out her eyes, trained on mine.

  I steal a look down, enjoying the image of my rock hard shaft disappearing into her and sliding back out. In and out, in and out, I fuck this beautiful innocent girl, listening to her moans, her little sounds, and before too long I have to slow down or I’ll blow.

  I groan and grab her hips, flipping her over until she’s on top of me.

  “Slide down on my dick,” I command.

  She hesitates, then lowers herself onto my dick, bouncing on the tip once, twice, three times, with her big titties moving in sync with her. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

  I grip her hips and set the pace, going slower than I did a minute ago, but still making her take me deep inside her tight hole. Gradually, I speed up, and I put my hands over her tits.

  “Ride it,” I tell her. “Just like that.”

  Obediently, she moves her hips, faster and faster. I love the way her deep black hair falls, tickling my chest when she leans down to kiss me. Then she collects her mass of hair in both hands, pulling it up on top of her head, and keeps rocking her hips. I put my hands behind my head to watch the show, those full, round tits of hers bouncing, those hard nipples like two pink quarters.

  A second later, she comes. “Ah!” she cries softly. “Ahhhhh. Oh my God. Mmmmmmmm.”

  I lose myself in her, shooting my load inside her, feeling that tight pussy clamp around me and release in orgasm. She leans her head back, and I lean up and pull her toward me, kissing her hard as our orgasms crest and I finish making her mine.

  .

  Chapter 3

  KERI

  I’m jolted out of sleep by the unmistakable sound of a phone vibrating. Opening my eyes, I see the beginnings of a sunny day out a monstrous window.

  Next to me, the guy I met at Vulcan’s last night mumbles something incohere
nt, followed by something coherent—“Shit!” as he grabs his phone.

  I reach for my own phone before realizing it’s not going to be in its usual place on the nightstand. This isn’t my nightstand. My phone is still in my purse, which is… wherever I left it in this huge house.

  Flashes of last night come back in my mind as my host twists and vaults himself out of the bed. In the early light, his hair looks a little lighter than it did at the bar, almost a perfect milk chocolate brown. His skin is flawless and tan, and I can definitely see the definition of his abs better in this natural light.

  God, he is sexy as fuck. Perfect shoulders, tall frame, his biceps cut and defined. I remember being on top of him last night, and I get warm between my legs. This perfect man was inside of me. OH MY GOD.

  But the vibe in the room tells me not to let my eyes linger too long. This guy is moving around like he’s on his way to a fire. Emerging from his closet in a pair of slacks, buttoning a collared shirt, he looks at me. “Morning.”

  “Hi,” I greet him. I’m not sure what else to say. Jumping up and yanking on clothes without a shower usually means only one thing. How the hell does he still look so good?

  “I’m late for work,” he says shortly.

  “Oh,” I say, sounding brilliant. “I didn’t realize you had a job here. I guess I thought you were just… passing through.” What was it he’d said last night that gave me that impression? My head felt heavy from all the drinks.

  “Figuring it out,” he says, repeating what he said last night. Also like last night, I decide not to press it.

  “Yeah,” I say, pushing back the sheets and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m late, too.” For school.

  “What time do you have to be at work?” he asks, pulling his dress shirt on over the tee.

  “Nine,” I reply, feeling the beginning seeds of panic. I need to be somewhere by nine all right, but it isn’t an office job. But I can’t change my story now. He’ll think I’m crazy. On top of whatever else he’d feel if he knew I was just a college student.

  “Where do you need to go? I’ll give you a ride.”

  Uggghh. “Um,” I say, “It’s over by the college.”

  “I’m headed that way.”

  Okay, well, at least I have a ride most of the way to school. The rest of the way I’ll just have to hurry, since no way can I let him drop me off on campus.

  We clamor downstairs, with me trailing because it took me a minute to find my skirt. I gather the rest of my clothes and get dressed in the bathroom, using the tiny travel mouthwash in my purse, and doing my best to wrestle my hair into a ponytail. I guess I get to show up for my first day of school looking like exactly what happened last night.

  “Through here,” he commands when I emerge, waving me over to a door that leads through a laundry room and out to the garage, where a black Cayenne sits as if waiting for a friend. The garage door activates, sliding upwards to reveal the long driveway I saw last night.

  I hop in, inhaling the new car scent, and the engine roars to life. I smile at the word PORSCHE lighting up on the screen, just in case anyone in the vehicle is not aware of what they’re riding in.

  I don’t say much as we back out of the garage and swoop into a sort of circle in order to drive down the driveway. That song about a summer breeze making you feel fine is on, and I take the opportunity to observe this man a little more. He’s as much the quintessential beautiful man as he looked last night. Maybe even more so with the lighter tones in his hair that the daytime picks up so nicely.

  The song continues to serenade us as we haul ass through the streets of Sunlight Park. “What does it mean to blow through the jasmine of your mind?” I ask out loud before I can stop myself.

  My chauffer smiles. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

  His smile lasts for a second, and he glances at me.

  He’s cute. Not just sexy, as he proved already. I’m kind of going to miss this face. I’ll think of him every time I hear this song.

  As we move out of the prestigious area of Deer Falls and head towards Bristowe, I have to push another panic wave down again. Think, Keri. Where do I supposedly work? No matter how many thousands of times I’ve driven in and out of the Bristowe College neighborhood, all the businesses and buildings fly right out of my mind.

  When we draw closer to the campus, I spot a random office building to the right. What’s in it? I have no idea. As long as it’s not abandoned or still being built, it will work. “Right here,” I announce.

  “That red brick one?”

  “Yep, that’s where I work.” Please don’t ask me any more questions.

  “Okay.” We turn into the parking lot, which is tiny because I’m guessing most of the real employees park in the parking garage not far away. I unbuckle my seat belt with a speed I didn’t know I possessed.

  “Well, um,” I begin. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

  We look at each other for a few awkward seconds, both of us silent.

  No names, I remind myself. No names, no strings.

  “I guess I should probably go,” I say dumbly, half hoping he’s going to ask for my phone number, despite what I just thought about no strings.

  “I’m late,” he says.

  Damnit! I’ve been standing here keeping him from being on time. “Sorry!” I blurt out. “Have a good day.” Or something.

  “You too.”

  I shut the car door and turn around. Where am I walking? Where’s the entrance to this building? I head for the parking garage, remembering that there’s usually an elevator in parking garages. Although when I turn my head to get one last look at my date (if you can even call him that), I see he’s not even paying attention to me. So it doesn’t matter where I go.

  Where I really need to go is my first class. Which, thanks to my refusal to tell him what I really do, starts in less than five minutes. I’m going to be late for the first class of my senior year.

  I don’t even want to know what I look like as I sprint down the street towards Bristowe. I can feel a knot in the back of my hair from the pulling and tugging it endured last night, and I’d dearly love to put on new underwear, but what I’d love more is to not be glaringly late. Maybe a minute or two wouldn’t be so bad, but even with my mad dash, I’m going to be that person who walks in while the professor is talking. And the professor of this class happens to be a huge deal.

  Gage Ramsey, founder and CEO of Pharaoh, that file sharing company. I don’t know how they got him to come here. I mean, Bristowe College is a good school, but Deer Falls, pretty as it is, is kind of remote. An hour from Austin if you drive fast. So of course, getting into this class wasn’t easy.

  You have to not only be a business major, but be concentrating in entrepreneurship, and a stellar GPA. Not only that, but you have to have a lot of business-y or community involvement type stuff going on. When I got the email this summer that I was allowed in, I shrieked so loudly my mom’s cats bolted from the room, and my dad came lumbering in with a fly swatter and a can of Raid, thinking it was a cockroach.

  I’m huffing and puffing by the time I reach the School of Business, and my lungs feel like they’re going to explode. I’m running my fingers through my hair on both sides, madly trying to keep my purse strap from falling off my shoulder, and praying I don’t look too terrible.

  I reach the room I’m looking for—202—and can hear the low tones of a man speaking through it. Shaking my head at myself, I push down on the metal latch and open the door.

  “…unique opportunity,” a familiar voice is saying.

  A sea of heads swivels my way. I don’t make eye contact with any of the other students. I do make eye contact with the professor.

  And a tiny groan escapes my throat.

  It’s him.

  He’s here. The guy from last night.

  The guy from Vulcan’s Bar, who had hot, steaming sex with me last night. The guy with the dimples, whose bed I woke up in this morning.
r />   He’s my professor.

  Oh.

  My.

  “God,” someone in the back row mutters. “Look at her.”

  Gage Ramsey.

  Gage Ramsey?

  I slept with Gage fucking Ramsey??!

  His eyes darken.

  I stand rooted to the floor. Feeling everyone’s eyes on me, especially this instructor’s… Gage’s? Oh Sweet Jesus, I’m not dreaming this. I can’t wake up from this. I need to move. But my feet aren’t moving.

  Move, I will my legs. Somehow, already numb from the power sprinting I’ve just done, they take me to the far side of the room, by the windows, where there’s an empty seat. As quickly as I can, I slide into it.

  Ohhh, God. Oh God oh God oh God.

  “Unique opportunity to really witness a company get started,” Gage resumes, his eyes burning into me. “Recordings of meetings and conversations that have not seen the light of day since they took place. I’ll also be bringing in some of my colleagues’ stories and expertise that has yet to make its way into the media…”

  God. He looks like he wants to kill me.

  I HAD NO IDEA, I want to shout. I settle for gaping at him with exclamation points in my eyes. Gage Ramsey is young? Gage Ramsey is hot? How did I not know this? I’d heard the name, of course. Who hadn’t? But I didn’t realize he was another Zuckerberg-esque young success story.

  “I’ll be pulling in some talks from some of my friends at Harvard,” he declares, fixing his eyes on me. “And Stanford.”

  I feel myself slide low into my seat.

  “For those who don’t know, I graduated with my BBA from Harvard, and my MBA from Stanford, and it was during undergrad in Cambridge—Boston, for those unfamiliar—” he looks my way again, and I flush. I know where Harvard is. I do know that much. “—that I first got the idea. In my Ancient History course, studying the pharaohs was my favorite part, and not just because my last name bears a striking resemblance to a certain pharaoh called the Great. Their tombs and their mummification process absolutely fascinated me.”