“Yeah, Nick.” Hudson’s mouth drew into a grim line and his eyes closed. He felt the same aching sadness he did every time his brother started this shit. He needed to get him off the phone.
“You’re all I have.” Nick’s voice was soft.
Hudson heard the sound of splashing water and a moment later Allie appeared in the doorway. He tracked her movements as she darted across the room, gathering his clothes in her arms. When she lifted his pants, a condom fell out of the pocket.
“I have to go, Nicky. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He ended the call and looked over at Allie with the Trojan pinched between her fingers. The condom was still perfectly rolled up, a testimony to his impatience and a decision that was damn hard to defend. The same panic that flared in her eyes was doing a stranglehold on his chest. God, he was such a bastard for being so reckless with her body. “I’m clean, Allie, I swear. I’ve always been careful. But so help me, tell me you’re on the pill?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Good. Now come back to bed,” he said, reaching for her.
“You need to go. Here,” Allie held out his pants. “Put these on.”
Hudson grabbed his pants and tossed them to the side. His mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “A few hours ago you couldn’t get me naked fast enough.” Pushing to his feet, he reached for Allie again, only to have her slip out of his grasp, his fingers brushing the side of her hip.
“Hudson, I’m serious. The sun will be up soon, and I can’t have my neighbors see you.” She picked his discarded shirt up off the floor and held it out to him.
“I don’t give a shit about your neighbors.” He threw the shirt on the bed and tugged on the sash of her robe.
“Please, Hudson.” Allie swatted his hands away and retied her robe.
“This isn’t about your neighbors, is it?” Hudson grabbed his shirt off the bed and shrugged it on. “What time are you expecting him?”
“I’m not,” she said, searching for his shoes and socks. “I just need you to go.”
His eyes drifted around the room, looking for any indications of another man. “He doesn’t stay here, your fiancé?” With quick jabbing motions, he pulled his boxer briefs up his thighs, followed by his pants. Hudson’s hand paused for a moment, waiting for an answer before zipping up his fly.
“He used to, in the beginning.” Allie avoided his gaze as she collected his wallet and keys from the nightstand. “He prefers his hotel room.”
Hudson closed the distance between them. “Good. I think I’d go half crazed if I could smell him on your sheets.” Slipping a finger under her chin, he forced her to meet his stare. “I want them to smell of me. Only me.” Hudson took her face between his hands and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. He’d foolishly thought being with her would sate his need, but his hunger had only grown stronger. Even now, just the feel of her lips against his had him wanting more. He felt his cock begin to stir and it took every ounce of self-control not to toss her back on the bed and bury himself inside her till the sun came up. “I need to see you again.”
“I’ll call you.” Allie pushed the rest of his belongings into his hand. “But for now, please, I need you to go.” Hudson moved through the house at Allie’s insistence. Fuck that. He was being herded.
He stopped in front of the door, shoving his wallet into his pants pocket. “Call or not, Allie, we’re not done.” He yanked the door open and jogged down the steps of the brownstone with his shoes in hand. Without a glance back, he unlocked the DB9. A grin spread across his face.
Hudson Chase doing the walk of shame.
That was a first.
Chapter Thirteen
Allie slid hanger after hanger across the chrome pole. She’d never been one to subscribe to the idea of retail therapy, but she had to get out of her office. It felt like the walls were closing in on her. And since there wasn’t time to go for a run during her lunch hour, she’d had to settle for wandering the eight floors of the Macy’s on State Street.
She paused when she came across a dark green wrap dress. It was almost identical to her burgundy one, and her thoughts immediately shifted to the last time she wore that dress. It was the night she went to Hudson’s office to collect the donation he’d pledged. Her eyes drifted shut and she could feel his hands wrenching open the neckline, his teeth nipping at the black lace of her bra. A throbbing ache spread through her belly. It was the same ache she felt every time she thought about Hudson Chase, which she was ashamed to admit, was far too frequently.
It had been over a week since she’d shuffled him out of her brownstone. Eight days, to be exact. Eight days of resisting the urge to call him. Eight days of hoping the memories of their night together would fade from her mind.
No such luck.
Allie shook her head. She had to stop thinking about Hudson; she was with Julian now. They were planning a life together and she wasn’t about to throw it all away on something that amounted to nothing more than residual teenage lust. She’d just needed to get it out of her system that one night, that’s all.
Yeah, just keep telling yourself that.
Folding the green dress over her arm, Allie made her way to the next rack, where a black bandage dress caught her eye. It had the style’s signature formfitting hourglass shape, but this particular dress had a front panel of thin black strips crisscrossing over sand mesh. Hmm, definitely a more daring choice. She held the two dresses up, comparing them side by side.
“The black one is nice.”
Allie jumped. She knew that voice . . . intimately. It had whispered roughly in her ear, filling her mind with all manner of naughty images as she was brought to orgasm again and again. Her errant thoughts brought a flush to her face as she turned to find Hudson standing behind her, grinning and looking rather pleased with himself. Where the hell did he come from? It was as if he’d just materialized.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Lately it seemed as though those were always the first words out of her mouth. At least when it came to Hudson Chase.
“I told you, call or no call, this wasn’t over. I gave you a week.”
Her heart pounded erratically. She wanted to blame it on the shock of his unexpected appearance, but she knew better. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Your coworker was very forthcoming.” His lips curved into an amused smirk. “I suspect she doesn’t have a very high opinion of your fiancé.”
“No, she just has a high opinion of your checkbook.”
He chuckled. “Not even my most impressive attribute.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “What do you want, Hudson?”
“I need to see you again.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Christ, I can’t even concentrate at the office. You’re in my head constantly.”
Allie glanced around nervously. “You can’t keep showing up like this,” she said, careful to keep her voice low.
“I can be very focused when it comes to something I want. Relentless, even.”
She stared at him blankly before moving to another display. Hudson followed.
“When is he leaving?”
“When is who leaving?”
“Your fiancé. You said he was gone most of the month.”
“This is hardly the place to discuss that.” She kept her eyes trained on the row of skirts in front of her.
Hudson braced a palm on the rack, halting the incessant skid of hangers. “When is he leaving, Alessandra?”
Her shoulders sagged. Clearly he wasn’t going to drop this. “He left this morning.”
He stepped so close, she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. “Meet me after work.” The dark, sensual edge to his voice sent a shiver through her. With every passing day she was falling deeper under his spell. This had to end.
“I have plans.”
“Cancel them.”
Her breath caught at his unexpected tone. It was demanding, authoritative
, and hot as hell. No, she had to stay strong. “I can’t. I promised Harper a girls’ night out weeks ago.”
Blowing out an irritated breath, Hudson quickly surveyed the store. “This way,” he said, taking her by the elbow.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “People will see us.”
He ignored her, taking long strides as he guided her into a dressing room at the rear of the store. “Now if anyone comes in they’ll be intruding on our privacy.” Turning, he closed the heavy wooden door and flipped the lock.
Allie opened her mouth to protest her abduction but he lunged at her. Both hands framed her face as Hudson pressed her against the three-way mirror and sealed his lips over hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth, taking her in a long, deep kiss. Groaning, he pulled away just long enough to speak. “I’m losing my mind over you, Allie.”
With just those few words she was warm and wanting. She hadn’t even called him, let alone planned to see him again, but now he was there, touching her, kissing her, and all she could think was how much she wanted him. His lips moved with hers again and Allie’s hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as the pent-up desire of the past week exploded between them. God, she’d missed this.
Lowering his head, Hudson dragged his tongue up the column of her throat. “I’m aching to be inside you any way I can,” he murmured, catching her earlobe between his teeth. He inched her dress up along her thighs, his touch searing against her skin. “Open for me.”
She gasped. In Macy’s? “Is anywhere off-limits?”
“Not when it comes to you. I’ve had a taste and I want more.” His hand moved between her legs and she widened them shamelessly, far too aroused to deny him. A low, sexy sound vibrated in the back of his throat when he found the warm, damp fabric of her panties. Pushing them aside, he slid his fingers over her slick flesh, teasing her slowly, gently. “God, Allie, I want my mouth on you, right here,” he eased one finger inside her, “right now.”
“ Hudson . . .”
“Shh, I need this,” he whispered, trailing his nose down her neck. “Give me this.”
She pulled his hair, bringing his mouth back to hers. He tugged her bottom lip between his teeth before sliding his tongue over hers in slow, savoring strokes that perfectly matched the movement of his fingers. Allie stifled a moan. There was nothing she wanted more than to feel those same lush, wet strokes between her thighs. But they were in a dressing room at Macy’s. Someone could knock on the door at any moment.
A battle waged inside her. She wanted him to stop, but at the same time, keep going. His finger slid in and out as he tortured her in a steady, unhurried rhythm. Don’t stop. Muffled voices passed in the hall and she tensed. No, stop. She was about to push him away when his finger curled forward, massaging a spot she never even knew she had. Oh, God, don’t stop. Her head fell back against the mirror with a thud and her legs began to tremble. Whatever you do, don’t stop.
“I could take you here and you’d let me,” he growled. “Your body is ready for me.” His voice was tight with restraint, his breath harsh in her ear.
She heard the door to the next room close and shook her head. “I can’t, not here.”
Hudson’s teeth grazed her jaw. “But you want to. I can feel you getting closer.” His weight pressed against her as he pushed into her with a second finger. Allie whimpered. Her hips moved of their own accord, seeking friction against his hand. “Let me watch you come, give me that much.”
“I can’t,” she said, barely able to push the words out as her body responded to every movement, every skillful sweep of his relentless fingers.
“Yes, you can.” Hudson banded an arm around her waist, his erection digging into her hip as he buried his fingers deeper. The heel of his hand massaged her sex and everything inside her tightened. “Let go, Allie, I’ve got you. Come for me.”
The world fell away at his rough command and she shattered into a million pieces. Hudson’s mouth slanted over hers, absorbing her cries as she came apart in his hands. Panting, she melted into him, her body going lax as he held her close. He slipped a finger under her chin, taking her mouth in a bruising kiss that betrayed just how close to the edge he was.
His head lifted and he looked down at her with fiery blue eyes. “Tomorrow, then. After work. My penthouse.”
Spent and trembling, all she could manage was a nod before Hudson turned and strolled out of the dressing room.
Chapter Fourteen
Harper leaned against the wall as Allie unlocked the door to her brownstone apartment. “Tell me again why I’m being forced to go running before margaritas?”
Allie laughed. “Two words for you my friend: chips and salsa.” She tossed her purse and keys on the table by the door and flipped through a stack of mail. Bills, junk mail, Chinese takeout menu. Nothing that couldn’t wait.
When she turned around she found Harper sprawled out on the sofa. Clearly she was going to need a nudge if Allie had any hopes of getting a lakeside jog in before indulging in Mexican food. And it wasn’t just the impending calories that had her motivated to hit the pavement. After what happened at Macy’s, she needed a long, head-clearing run now more than ever. “You can go ahead and change if you want. I’m just going to check my messages real quick.”
Harper reached for the duffle bag at her feet and let out an exaggerated sigh as she pushed up from the couch. She paused on her way past the breakfast bar, raising a brow at the small electronic device on the granite countertop. “Expecting a call from the 90s asking for their answering machine back?”
Allie pressed the play button. “I’ll have you know I just bought this.” Granted it wasn’t voice mail, but it was still digital. Jeez, the way Harper reacted you’d have thought the messages were recorded on a little cassette tape. Allie was about to continue the defense of her household appliances when the first message began to play. Loud music and laughter were eventually followed by the sound of Julian’s voice.
“Alessandra, c’est Julian.” Allie’s brow creased. Why had he called her apartment in the middle of the day and not her office or cell phone? “I’ve arrived in Paris and am checking in, as you like to say.” The sound of a woman speaking fluent French could be heard along with Julian’s muffled reply. Although she listened intently, trying her best to recall the years she spent in high school French class, the loud music and covered mouthpiece made it impossible to decipher what had been said.
Julian spoke into the phone. “Seems there is more work than anticipated. I’ll call when . . .” His message was interrupted again, this time by a loud pop followed by squeals and a chorus of laughter. “Ne renversez pas le champagne tout le putain de tapis,” Julian shouted. “Elle vaut plus que ce que vous ferez au cours de votre vie, vous idiots!” He was still ranting about his precious rug when the recording ended, cutting him off with a shrill beep.
“End of messages,” the machine announced.
An awkward silence hung in the air for several moments before Harper chimed in with what was obviously an attempt to lighten the mood. “You know what? I vote drinks instead of jogging. In fact, screw the margaritas. I say martinis at Tavern instead.”
Allie tried her best to muster a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
***
Allie sank back against soft red velvet. Tavern on Rush was standing room only but she and Harper had arrived early enough to score one of the couches lining the club’s paneled walls. A distinguished-looking gentleman in a dark suit smiled when she glanced his way, but the last thing Allie needed or wanted was a conversation with a man. Any man. Not a French diplomat with a taste for expensive champagne and even more expensive rugs. Not a billionaire industrialist with serious boundary issues. And certainly not a George Clooney look-alike at a Rush Street bar. The only thing on her evening agenda was having a cocktail—make that cocktails, plural—with her best friend.
She gave the gentleman a tight smile and shifted her gaze to the main floor, where a circular mahog
any bar sat bathed in gold-and-red lighting. As she scanned the room she realized her admirer wasn’t the only silver fox at Tavern. Everywhere she looked she saw gray-haired businessmen in designer suits mingling with young women in black dresses and red-soled pumps. Allie chuckled to herself. Ah yes, the Viagra Triangle. That was how locals referred to the high-priced restaurants that dotted the corners of three intersecting streets. As she took in her surroundings she realized the description was more than just an urban legend and made a mental note to tease Harper about how often she frequented the establishments.
Allie reached for her lemon drop martini, her second of the night, and licked a bit of sugar from the rim. The tangy beverages were going down much too smoothly. If she didn’t get some food in her stomach, she’d be paying the price come morning. The last thing she needed was to roll into work with a hangover. “We should order.”
Harper took a generous sip of something called a Strawberry Blonde and grabbed a menu off the marble tabletop. She flipped through the small leather binder, bypassing the extensive wine list in favor of colorful drinks with elaborate descriptions. “Oh!” Her eyes grew wide. “How about a Sucker Punch? Vodka, brandy, pomegranate liqueur, fresh orange juice, fresh pineapple juice, and grenadine.”
“I meant something more along the lines of dinner, but what the hell.”
Harper craned her neck, searching for the waiter she’d been flirting with all night. She startled when he was suddenly at her side.
“Can I bring you ladies another round?” he asked. Allie had to admit he was a bit of a doll. Big brown eyes with lashes that wouldn’t quit, dark hair a little longer than most, and a smile to make you forget what you were going to order. At least that was the effect he seemed to be having on Harper.
Remind Me Page 8
