The light changed green, and with the reflexes of a race car driver, he hit the gas. The DB9 came awake, roaring across the lanes as Hudson weaved into a turning lane at the next intersection. The light was still green, the arrow a blazing sign telling him what to do. He cranked the wheel with renewed determination and flipped a louie. The DB9 picked up speed, weaving around a soccer-mom special and then a luxury vehicle that was all flash and no dash. Zipping through the intersection and rounding the corner back down Astor, Hudson realized he’d plow down, perhaps kill, anything that got in his way. This time, despite feeling about ten types of stupid for chasing after a woman, he was going to get answers.
Chapter Eleven
Hudson’s hand clenched tightly into a fist and he pounded on the door. He waited ten seconds, then pounded again. Usually he wasn’t into making a scene, but suddenly he didn’t give a shit about pretenses and dove headfirst into Idiotsville.
Just when he was about to rip the damn door off the hinges, it swung open. “Took you long enough.” Not an ounce of amusement resonated in his voice.
Alessandra stared at him for a beat, her face registering disbelief and bewilderment. “I was in the shower.”
Hudson stood framed in the doorway. Right now he wasn’t feeling like the billionaire mogul the rest of the world knew, but a man past the limits of control. His eyes raked over her from head to toe and she pulled the lapels of her robe tighter against his searing gaze. “Why did you come to my place?” he demanded.
Her spine straightened. “Shouldn’t you be out with a leggy brunette about now?”
“Canceled. Now answer the question.”
“I . . .” She hesitated.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know.” Her grip tightened on the silk robe, wrinkling the fabric.
“Bullshit. You do know. You can’t stop thinking about me.” He jutted forward, bracing one hand on the doorjamb. “I know this because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Don’t—”
“Every time I close my eyes I see you, feel your mouth sliding against mine, and it drives me fucking crazy—”
She held up her hand. “Hudson, please stop.”
“Then you show up at my penthouse. And now, knowing you’re naked underneath that robe . . .”
“You can’t keep saying these things to me.”
“You don’t mean that. In fact,” his eyes flicked down briefly to her nipples straining against the thin fabric, begging for his attention, “I think it turns you on.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve.”
“Do I? I bet if I rip open that robe and feel between your legs, you’re soaking wet.” His gaze darkened and his voice lowered to an intimate challenge. “Want me to prove it?”
Her jaw dropped. “You need to leave.”
When she made a move to close the door, Hudson’s palm smacked flat against the wood. “Not until you admit I’m right.”
“Is that what this is about, you being right?”
“No, though I am.” His voice took on a decisive edge. “The road is paved in hard truths, Alessandra, not denials.”
“And you think I’m the one in denial?”
His gaze was rock steady. “I know you are. But fuck if I’ll let you push me away again.”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel.” Her voice thinned. “It’s too late for us, Hudson.”
“The hell it is.” His chest expanded and he blew out an exasperated breath. He needed to connect with the girl she used to be, the girl he knew was still there, beneath the layers of socialite status. “Damnit, Allie. Just admit you feel the same.”
“Admit what? That I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment I turned around and saw you at the gala? That I can’t stop picturing what could have happened in your office? Or about how part of me was disappointed you didn’t fuck me on that barstool? Is that what you want me to admit, Hudson, that no matter how many years have passed, I still want you as much as I did back then?”
“Yes, I need to hear you say it.”
“I want you.” Her reply was barely audible, but he heard her loud and clear.
His eyes roamed over her face. “Say it again.”
“I want you.”
A beat of silence passed between them, then his hand fisted in her hair, dragging her mouth to his in a kiss that had Allie moaning her surrender. Her lips were hot, her skin flushed and alive. Her entire body radiated a heat and a need he was more than eager to fulfill.
“I’ll have you shouting it by the time I’m through with you.” Hudson kicked the door shut behind him and in one swift move had Allie pressed against the nearest wall, every inch of her body aligned perfectly with his. If there was a point of no return, he’d just passed it. He was driven by a desire so raw, so powerful, that it frayed the last thread of his control.
With need grabbing the reins and taking over, Hudson impatiently yanked the sash of her robe free and stripped the satin off her shoulders.
Jesus Christ, she really was fucking naked. Beautifully naked.
It was difficult to think straight with that much flawless skin in front of him. Every base instinct told him to worship every inch of her until they were both sated.
His hands slid down the sides of her bare breasts, pausing to brush his thumbs across her taut nipples before smoothing over her waist and the curve of her hips; the contours of her familiar even after all these years.
“I didn’t think I’d make it another five minutes without touching you.” He was way past hiding the effect she had on him, or pretending he had any kind of control over the response.
Allie pushed his jacket over his shoulders. He took a half step back and shrugged it the rest of the way off, one arm and then the other, before flinging it to the side. A lamp toppled over on the table beside them and the bulb popped with a flash. As if he gave a shit.
Her greedy fingers clutched handfuls of his shirt as she yanked it out of his pants. One by one she began frantically working the buttons.
“Rip it,” he growled.
Allie tipped her chin up to meet his challenging stare. She was breathless and her eyes glowed with unrestrained lust. Gathering the fabric with both hands, she split it open with a sharp tug. Buttons scattered, ricocheting off walls and disappearing across the hardwood floor.
A low groan vibrated in Hudson’s chest as he claimed her mouth again, his tongue filling her with deep, searing strokes. His hand dropped between her thighs and he grit his teeth. Christ, she was wet. So fucking wet. The rough pad of his thumb stroked over the top of her sex as his middle finger slid inside. Allie moaned as he eased out then back in with a second finger, her hips circling and rocking against the heel of his hand.
With a shift of his wrist he thrust deeper, all the while imagining how good she would feel sliding over his throbbing cock. He was so hard for her it hurt, the culmination of two weeks of foreplay and ten long years envisioning her just like this. God help him, he had to take her. Right here, right now.
“I need to be inside you,” he murmured against her lips. His voice was rough, carnal, and as desperate as the moment between them.
Her hands wasted no time reaching for his fly, jerking his belt loose and yanking his zipper down. She pushed his boxer briefs just low enough to free his aching erection, leaving his pants slung around his hips.