“Why champagne?”
“Why not?”
I give him a look and he laughs. “I thought it was appropriate.”
“Okay, what are we celebrating?”
“Well,” he clears his throat, “we can celebrate that you haven’t spilled anything on me.”
“There’s still time.” I clink my glass against his and take a sip. It’s like a bottled cloud, perfectly dry and fizzy and easily the best champagne that I’ve ever had. “Wow.”
Hudson is smirking. “Here at Club Deep we go above and beyond to make sure that our clients have only the best.”
I take another sip. “But something tells me that not every customer gets this.”
He nods, conceding the point, and I take another drink. It’s hard not to when it’s so damn good. Emptying the glass, I put it on the table and lean closer to Hudson. I can see his eyes are a deep brown in the mask, but not a flat brown. It’s the kind that has depth. If you looked into them when the sun was shining you’d see all different shades of brown and maybe even some green around the edges. All I know right now is that they’re focused on me with an intensity that drags up that arousal that’s becoming familiar tonight. “But really,” I say, lowering my voice. There’s a sensation in the air that feels like it might be broken if I raise my voice any more. “What are we celebrating?”
Hudson tips the rest of his champagne back and places his glass on the table next to mine. “Have you ever felt like something was meant to happen?”
“Depends on what you mean,” I say, giving him a coy smile. I know what he’s referring to. But the champagne is making me bold, and I’m here in my underwear with a sexy man and I want nothing more than to not be myself. So I won’t be. He’ll like this version of me better.
“I mean that when you spilled coffee on me this morning, it felt…” his voice disappears, and he just stares at me.
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”
His throat moves as he swallows. “I didn’t actually think that you would come. Even though I hoped that you would.”
I move closer again. “And what did you hope would happen if I did show up?”
“I think we’re moving closer to the realm of fantasy,” he says, smiling.
“Does that mean I’m not allowed to hear it?”
Our lips are so close it almost feels like we’re touching even though there’s a sliver of air between us. One of us has to make the first move, but this feeling is electric—we’re on the verge of something we both know we won’t be able to take back. It will be too big to take back.
“I don’t know if it’s fair for me to tell you my fantasies when I’m trying to help you find yours,” he says softly.
Confidence slithers up my spine and I arch into him, pressing my body into his even though our lips still aren’t touching. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we use your fantasies in order to find mine? That way we both get what we want.” Reaching out, I put my hand on him. Right where he’s hard. I have never done something like this, and it feels good. Exhilarating. I try not to marvel at how big he is through his pants, try not to move or breathe, just let my statement sit. Let him take it in.
Hudson closes the gap and his lips are on mine. Oh god, it’s been so long since I’ve just been kissed, I’ve got butterflies in my stomach and everything. His lips are soft, and as he presses them harder onto mine, I feel his hand on my waist, fingers stroking the skin there. Even just that touch lights me up. My body is reacting so strongly, so quickly, that I blush. Even though it’s been a long time, I didn’t realize that it would feel like this. It’s never felt like this. Ever.
He pulls away and I see the shock in his eyes. I’m glad he felt it too. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
His hand slips around my neck and pulls me to him again, and I’m flush against him: lips and breasts and legs and I love the feeling of being this close. At the studio, I only politely touch people to show them how to pose, barely brushing them. My own work has no people in it. This closeness feels wild and freeing, like a lightning bolt straight to my brain and I want more. More. Hudson’s mouth opens and his tongue strokes across my lips, a silent request. I open for him, and oh god it’s so much better. He presses deeper into my mouth, his hand firm on the back of my neck, holding me in place while our tongues twist together.
I pull back from him just enough to reach between us, feeling for his buttons. I want a glimpse of what I saw this morning when the coffee spilled. There are abs under this shirt and I want to touch them. Hell, I think I might want to lick them. I undo the buttons, one by one, pushing the fabric aside and letting my fingers drift down his skin. Even with just my fingers, the way his skin feels on mine is intoxicating. I trace my way from his collar bone all the way to his stomach, memorizing him by touch because my eyes are closed.
He pulls back for a breath, and I drag my eyes open. Somehow it feels harder to breathe now that he’s not kissing me. Like now that I’ve started, I can’t stop.
“You never told me,” I say, “what your fantasy was.”
“That’s because it wasn’t just one,” he says, smiling. “In between this morning and now I think I imagined you and me a hundred different ways.”
Those words steal my breath in an entirely new way. I want to know every single way he thought about me. I want him to play out his imagination with my body. I never want him to stop. “Show me.”
“Okay.” He reaches out, behind the couch, and pulls a cord that had been hidden. A tiny bell sounds and that same gauzy back curtain falls in front of our alcove, and I see a girl dressed in black slip in to take our glasses just as Hudson kisses me again. I could get lost in these kisses, surrendering myself to them like a drug. But instead, I kiss him back. I push forward and climb into his lap, straddling his lap and kissing him harder. I can feel his cock between my legs, pressing right where I want it, separated by just a layers of fabric. That suddenly seems like a couple of layers too many. Hudson’s hands find the ties on my robe. “As sexy as you look in this, I can’t wait to see you without it.”
He pushes the robe off my shoulders and I let it fall to the floor behind me. Even though the robe was completely sheer, suddenly being without it feels ten times more intimate. My instinct is to pull away and hide, embarrassed. So I do the exact opposite, shrugging my shoulders out of the straps of my bra and dropping it next to the robe. Hudson’s eyes are locked on my breasts, and his hands slide up my ribs, not stopping until he has one in each hand. My nipples harden as he touches me, and the chill runs through the rest of me.
There’s a small smile on his face. “Look how perfect they are,” he says. “It’s like my hands were made to hold them.”
“They might have been made for your mouth too.”
He pulls me against him, a glint in his eye, and then his mouth is on me and I’m gasping. His lips are sinful fire. Every pull of his lips drops straight through my stomach and now I’m even wetter than before. My body is practically begging for him. He takes his time, sucking me in long, slow, pulls that make me moan. My nipple is flushed and swollen before he moves to the other one and gives it the same treatment. I’m out of breath when he decides that he’s finished. If this is what it feels like to have his lips on my breasts, I’m honestly not sure that I’ll survive the night. Because I know that we’re not stopping here. “Fantasy number one,” he whispers.
“You wanted to do that?”
“If I wasn’t dying to touch the rest of you, I’d keep going, see if I could make you come with just my lips and my hands on these.” He squeezes, running his thumbs over his handiwork, and it makes me moan. “I bet I could, couldn’t I?”
“I don’t know.” I really don’t. I don’t think any man I’ve been with had ever spent as much time with my breasts as Hudson just did. Possibly combined.
“Well, let me mark that down as something to try in the future.”
“Okay,” I say, still breathless. Meeting his eyes through the
mask, I realize I want to see him. I don’t want us to be anonymous for this. I reach for it. “Can I take this off?”
He nods, and I gently pull it away from his face. It’s amazing how something as small and simple as a mask can transform someone. He’s just what I remember—tan skin and perfect features, and now I know how expressive his eyes are and it makes them stand out even more. Hudson’s hands slide under my hair and he unties my mask too, and my breath catches. When he takes off the mask he’ll see me. One layer gone away from this confident persona that I’m putting on. Anxiety crawls in my gut, and I’m not sure I’m ready for him to see me like that. I don’t know that he’ll like the me that’s boring and normal and not a badass in lingerie. But he pulls my mask away from my face and then we’re just two people. My heart is still beating out of my chest. “Hello,” he says.
“Hi.”
I kiss him again, and this time I feel like I’m on fire. He’s turned me on and now I want all of him. I know he’s right there with me. His hands slide up my back, stroking my spine and holding me to him. He lifts be up and back, and I feel the table underneath me. “Lie back.”
“Is this another one of your fantasies?”
The corners of his mouth tip up into a smile. “Maybe.”
I do as he asks, leaning back until I’m flat on the table, even though my legs are still tangled with his. He runs a palm down my body, from my breasts to my stomach and lower, catching my underwear and pulling. I have to lift my hips in order for them to come off, and doing that gives him an absolutely perfect view of my pussy as it appears. The look on his face when he sees it is enough to send heat roaring through my body. I don’t move, holding myself still and letting him look even though my normal instinct would be to blush and close my legs.
“You’re so wet already.” His eyes flicker to mine and back.
“There’s a reason for that.”
He grabs my hips, fingers caressing and supporting, keeping me lifted, and suddenly I realize just how close I am to his mouth. I remember that these curtains are sheer and that I’m naked. “People will be able to see.”
“Maybe I want them to see,” he says, moving his mouth closer to me. “Maybe I want them to watch while I make you squirm and moan.”
My breath goes short in my chest. “How are you going to do that?”
“I’d rather show you than tell you.”