Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
“As you might have guessed, Christmas Town is rife with cheery pastimes.”
“What would you say is the best?”
“It’s all…blah. Terrible.”
“But if you had to name something…what would it be?” he pressed.
I shot a suspicious glance his direction. “Well, I don’t hate baking and decorating cookies, so the gingerbread house competition is passably fun. It’s something I’m fairly good at too. Or used to be.”
“Ah, good to know. How do you feel about Christmas trees?”
I used to love them, I thought to myself.
“I think they’re a waste of time and timber,” I replied.
Hudson put his hat on and stood abruptly. “Cool. I think I want one.”
“A tree?”
“Yeah. Where should I go?”
“To the forest.”
He raised his brows and leveled me with an expectant look. “Moody…”
Fine. I’d never been quick with snappy comebacks anyway.
“Dalton’s Farm,” I blurted.
“Where’s that?”
I reluctantly followed my guest to the door, spouting directions as I unbolted the lock. “Have fun.”
“Thanks, but I’ll never remember all that. You’ll have to show me.”
I frowned. “I’m not showing you squat. Find your own tree.”
Hudson widened his eyes mischievously. “Someone is gonna get a lump of coal and a spanking for Christmas.”
“If I’m lucky,” I quipped. Okay, that was a nifty comeback.
“Mmm.” He leaned on the doorjamb and casually let his gaze roam my body. “Well, you know…I’m thinking you kinda owe me one. Who’s been bringin’ you soup all week, Moody? Who’s been watching your favorite game shows with you?”
“I didn’t request your company.” I glowered.
“No, you didn’t,” he conceded, raking his teeth over his bottom lip.
My eyes snagged on his mouth and stayed there. I’d kissed that mouth, and I’d really, really liked it. He was good with his hands and gosh, his penis was gorgeous—long and thick and—
Stop it, Moody! You’re turning into a scurrilous, sex-crazed horndog.
“Are you attempting trickery?”
Hudson smirked. “Who me? Never.”
“Well, I’m not going to shop for a tree or…”
What was I saying? I couldn’t concentrate. My brain was stuck on the memory of that night. The weight of his big body on mine, his tongue in my mouth, my mouth on his cock.
“Hey, you okay?” He dragged his forefinger along my jaw.
No, I was not okay. I was lost in a sensual haze, unable to tell up from down, right from wrong. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be. I should have been at work, and Hudson should have been at a ranch in Colorado or somewhere far away. But he was here and his touch was so tender, so seductive.
I stared at him impotently, wishing my top-notch education had prepared me for moments when lust rendered me incapable of stringing together a logical thought. I didn’t want anything to do with Christmas trees, but I didn’t want him to go. Not yet.
“I—” I licked my dry lips, nodding and then shaking my head. Before he could ask what I meant, I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and crashed my mouth over his.
Hudson stumbled sideways, no doubt surprised by my enthusiastic onslaught. But he didn’t pull away. He hummed into the connection, tipping his hat and angling his chin as he easily took command. Suddenly, his hands were in my hair, gliding under my T-shirt, slipping past the elastic of my sweatpants while he stoked a fire to life with every talented thrust of his tongue.
Yes, we were making out on my front porch in broad daylight. Mrs. McKenzie was probably getting an eyeful as she raked her leaves across the street. The whole town would think their resident cranky bookseller was a rapscallion. I didn’t care. Not one bit.
I wanted his lips and his hands and his tongue and more, more, more.
“Inside,” Hudson growled, closing the door behind us.
We stood, panting in the foyer, sizing each other up. I couldn’t speak for Hudson, but I was buzzing with desire. For him. For us.
I curled my fingers under his belt buckle and met his eyes. “May I? Please.”
“You want to get on your knees for me again, boy?”
Oh, dear. I was going to faint.
I nodded like a puppet, grateful when he unbuckled and unzipped himself, freeing his erection in a theatrical swoop. It bobbed between us, steel and velvet and…yes, I was sinking to the floor. I had the presence of mind to wiggle my sweats and boxer briefs out of the way so I could stroke my cock while I reacquainted myself with this perfect specimen of masculine beauty.
You think I’m exaggerating? Oh, no. The view from below was stunning. I gazed up at Hudson, the brim of his hat shadowing his eyes as he unbuttoned his plaid shirt, revealing a smattering of hair on his toned, muscular abs. His body was a masterpiece and his cock…perfection.
I opened up wide and swallowed him to the root. He grunted above me, sliding his fingers in my hair. Good. I wanted him to use me, take what he wanted. I yearned for rough and dirty. No coddling, nothing gentle, nothing sweet. Just…sex.