Wild Thing Page 7

  Here they were, five years later, with her crush stalking towards her, looking incredible in black trousers, black shirt and dark grey sports jacket. Perfectly tailored designer clothes that accentuated the lean hardness of his body. A body she’d be seeing naked by the end of tonight if she had her way.

  ‘Glad you could make it,’ she said when he reached her and leaned down to brush a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it.’ He straightened, but his aftershave lingered, a heady mix of crisp citrus and deeper exotic undertones. Mysterious. Alluring. Scrumptious.

  ‘I didn’t know you’re that into opera?’

  ‘I’m not.’ His enigmatic stare left her in little doubt what he was really into. ‘But I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity to spend an evening with you.’

  ‘Smooth talker.’ She smiled and gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow. ‘Shall we go in?’

  ‘Sure.’

  She forced her body to relax when he placed a hand in the small of her back, an innocuous gesture to guide her. But she couldn’t stop her nerve endings from going haywire, firing and zapping and making her want to ditch the opera in favour of the nearest hotel room.

  ‘I love this place,’ he said as they stepped inside the iconic Opera House, the soaring ceilings inside as beautiful as the white sails outside.

  ‘Have you been to many shows here?’

  He nodded, glancing around with an interest bordering on reverence. ‘The theatre company I’m involved with attends shows regularly here so I tag along whenever I can.’

  ‘I’d never have picked you to have an interest in theatre,’ she said, wondering how many other things she didn’t know about him.

  It had been five long years since they’d last spoken and it struck her anew. What did she really know about Hudson Watt?

  Back then, she’d known he favoured orange juice over pineapple, preferred Aussie Rules football over rugby and liked jazz over pop. Now, she knew next to nothing about him and it saddened her.

  What would their relationship be like now if they’d stayed in touch?

  ‘I guess working around the Cross clubs all those years, seeing the dance shows, rubbed off on me.’ His tone was curt, clipped, and she knew why.

  He didn’t want to talk about some of the club shows at the Cross. Not when some of them involved stripping, the reason they’d fallen out in the first place. But if she wanted to know more about him, she couldn’t back down, even when the going got tough.

  ‘So you’re interested in the production side of things?’

  He nodded, his shoulders still rigid with tension. ‘I’ve done a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff in the theatre company. Got me thinking what it would be like to combine the show side of things with clubbing.’ He shrugged. ‘I put together a proposal, Tanner gave me a chance.’

  ‘So that means I need to dance my ass off so you can impress your boss to do more shows?’

  ‘Something like that,’ he said, his mouth curving into a slow smile. ‘But please look after that ass. I happen to like it.’

  Her pulse leapt, but she managed a demure, ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

  ‘You do that.’ They’d reached their seats, and he waited until they’d sat before leaning across to murmur in her ear, ‘Because if you need any assistance looking after it, I’m your man.’

  She turned towards him and their eyes met. Even in the dim lighting she could see the spark, the lust, the heat. It gave her courage to reach across and rest her hand on his thigh. Low enough to be decent. High enough to be suggestive.

  ‘You’ll kill my concentration if you do that.’

  In response, she slid a little higher and squeezed.

  ‘I never did like opera all that much anyway,’ he said, covering her hand with his, waiting until the lights went out before guiding it higher.

  Yowza. He was big. Hard. Her fingers curled around him a little and she heard a muffled groan.

  Makayla had no idea how they lasted through the first act: forty-five long excruciating minutes of exquisite costumes and pitch-perfect singing. Usually, she would’ve been enthralled. Instead, all she could focus on was how Hudson felt beneath her hand. How he could hold himself perfectly still, not moving a muscle, yet his rigidity conveying a restraint that left her awestruck.

  As the falsetto strains of the lead vocalist faded and the lights flickered on, Hudson released her hand and she straightened, blinking at him as her eyes adjusted.

  ‘What do you fancy for intermission?’

  She couldn’t imagine sipping champagne, making small talk and sitting through a torturous second act, wanting him more with every passing minute.

  So she looked him in the eye and said, ‘You.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HUDSON DIDN’T CARE about speeding fines at this time of night. He happily broke the land speed record between Circular Quay and his apartment. Besides, he couldn’t have driven slowly if he’d tried. Not with Mak sitting next to him, radiating a barely restrained energy that had the air between them almost crackling.

  He’d felt it the moment he’d greeted her on the Opera House steps. As if something had shifted between them. Something minute and indescribable but there all the same, pulling them together, as if it were inevitable.

  He’d been determined to fight it because he viewed her invitation to attend the opera with her as a huge step between them. An unspoken acknowledgement on her behalf that she’d forgiven him and they might have something more than friendship between them.

  So he’d made small talk. Planned on sitting through the entire performance before suggesting they head back to his place for a drink.

  Never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated Mak wanting to leave halfway through the opera because she couldn’t keep her hands off him.

  When she’d touched him...did she have any idea what she did to him? He’d been rock-hard for forty-five goddamn minutes and he could’ve shouted for joy when she’d wanted to leave.

  As he pulled into his car spot in the underground car park and killed the engine, he knew they were on the cusp of a massive shift in their relationship.

  The point of no return.

  So being an idiotic gentleman to the end, he gave her a last chance to back out.

  ‘You sure about this?’ He stared out of the windshield, unable to look at her. If he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist hauling her into his arms and that would take the decision out of her hands completely.

  ‘Never been surer.’

  She didn’t touch him. She didn’t need to. The conviction in her tone brooked no argument.

  She wanted this as much as he did.

  Which meant he couldn’t get her upstairs fast enough.

  She’d stepped out of the car before he had a chance to open her door, so he offered her his hand.

  She took it and didn’t let go until they were inside his apartment, the door barely closing before she was on him. Pushing him against the nearest wall. Slamming her body against his. Reaching for his zipper.

  The thing with quick gratification, it could be incredibly hot but was over too fast. For his first time with the woman who’d featured in his fantasies for years he wanted to take things slow. Real slow.

  ‘Hey, I want you,’ he said, holding her arms and easing her back a fraction. ‘I’ve wanted you for ever. So let me savour every single moment of this.’

  The corners of her lush mouth kicked up in a devilish smile. ‘So you want to torture me?’

  ‘Call it building anticipation rather than torture.’ He relaxed his grip on her arms and started sliding his palms up and down her bare skin, feeling it pebble beneath his touch. ‘Quite frankly, you drive me crazy and I want to be buried inside you in two seconds flat.’

  ‘Way too fast,’ she said, her glance coy from beneath lowered l
ashes. ‘But considering you sat through that entire first act rock-hard, how slow exactly do you want to take this?’

  She pressed her pelvis against him. ‘Because, honey, there’s a difference between building anticipation and killing me slowly.’

  He laughed, loving her honesty, loving that they could talk like this. They’d always been open with each other, had trusted each other. Until it had all imploded.

  But he couldn’t think about that night. Couldn’t think about the secrets she probably harboured. Secrets that could drive him to distraction and wreck this before they’d even begun, if he was stupid enough to let them.

  He had Mak in his arms.

  Wanting him.

  Mak.

  No way in hell would he let the past or any doubts derail what promised to be the best night of his life.

  ‘Dance with me,’ he said, smiling when her eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘Ever since I saw you audition for me, I imagined what it would be like having your incredible body moving close to mine.’

  ‘Vertical sex, huh?’ She pretended to ponder a moment, before nodding. ‘I like it.’

  He would too, as he led her by the hand to his stereo system, did a quick scroll through a smooth playlist, and chose one of his favourite classic songs.

  ‘Prince? Seriously?’ She slapped him playfully on the arm. ‘Exactly how old are you?’

  ‘Old enough to know better, old enough to not give a damn and do the bad stuff regardless.’

  As the first sultry beats filled the air, he took her other hand, his body pulsing with barely controlled desire for her. Then she started moving in time to the music and all he could do for a moment was stare.

  She had an inherent elegance that transformed into unadulterated heat as she danced. Her body took on a life of its own, as if the bass were a part of her. Sinuous writhing combined with sensuous hip rolls. Languid shoulder shimmies alternating with some seriously hot ass wiggling.

  He was a goner.

  He tugged on her hands, hard, intent on devouring her. But she resisted, her sexy smile ratcheting up the sizzle between them.

  ‘I thought you wanted to prolong this?’

  ‘I lied,’ he muttered, his plans to take things slow shot to hell the second she wiggled her ass at him. ‘Sitting through that opera was foreplay enough and my self-control is shot to shit with you putting the moves on me.’

  She quirked an eyebrow, her faux innocence not fooling him for a second. ‘I’m merely dancing, just like you wanted to.’

  ‘Don’t listen to me. I’m an idiot.’

  She chuckled and took a step closer. Close enough he could smell her, sweat mingling with her sultry fragrance, a heady combination that drove him wild.

  ‘But you didn’t dance?’

  ‘You danced enough for the both of us,’ he said, palming her ass and pulling her close. ‘God, you drive me wild.’

  Her slow, seductive smile made his heart pound. ‘Show me.’

  He didn’t have to be asked twice. ‘You look sensational in this dress but I’ve been wanting to get you out of it since the moment I saw you tonight.’

  The simple black halter that ended below her knees screamed understated class, but the silky fabric that clung to her body in all the right places ensured it transformed the dress from demure to sexy as hell.

  ‘Be my guest.’ She turned around, giving him an unimpeded view of smooth skin. No tan lines. Interesting.

  Thankfully, she’d tied a simple knot at her neck and he had it undone with a flick of his wrist. The material slithered down her front, and he bit back a groan as his fingertips skated down her spine to her waist.

  He toyed with the zipper for a moment, his throbbing cock urging him to rip the damn thing and be done with it. But there had to be something to delayed gratification so he slid it down slowly.

  Revealing a black satin thong.

  Hot damn.

  The dress fell to the floor in a whisper of silk, leaving her standing before him in stilettos and that thong.

  Her ass was as sweet as he’d imagined, rounded yet taut. A good handful. He palmed it. Kneading it. Her low groan better than any aphrodisiac.

  ‘Turn around,’ he said, his order a growl.

  He stepped back as she did so, allowing himself to look his fill.

  Exquisite.

  The first time he’d seen her naked, he’d allowed himself one illicit glance before looking away, incensed. In his shower, he’d been too gobsmacked to stare too long.

  This time, he intended to take his time.

  Her breasts were perfect. Perky, full. With pretty pale pink nipples that stood to attention, begging to be sucked.

  He glanced lower, zeroing in on where he wanted to be. Saw her hook her thumbs under the elastic of the thong. Push it down. Revealing heaven. Golden red, a deeper shade than her hair cascading around her shoulders.

  In his shower, he’d devoured her too quickly. Had been hell-bent on giving her pleasure and giving in to the fantasy of tasting her. Tonight, he’d make sure he took his time.

  Later.

  She kicked away the thong and kinked a hip in a purely provocative pose. ‘Shoes on or off?’

  ‘You won’t have time to take them off,’ he said, launching himself at her.

  But she stepped back and held him off with a hand on his chest. ‘Uh-uh. One of us is way overdressed.’

  ‘I don’t need to undress.’ He unzipped his fly, where his cock strained against the briefs beneath. ‘There. Done.’

  ‘You’re not the only one who gets off by looking.’ She gave him a little shove. ‘I want to see you naked. Now.’

  ‘Bossy,’ he muttered, grinning as he shrugged out of his jacket and flung it away.

  ‘Faster,’ she said, sounding breathless.

  So he obliged by popping buttons quickly and letting his shirt fall to the floor.

  She made an appreciative sound deep in her throat as he unsnapped his trousers and stepped out of them. With her gaze riveted to his groin, he pushed down his jocks and almost crowed with pride as her jaw dropped.

  ‘You felt big but...wow,’ she said, sounding awed. ‘This is going to be one hell of a night.’

  He bit back his first response, ‘Just one night?’

  Because if that was all Mak was willing to give, he’d take it. No questions asked. He’d waited too long, wanted her too much, to spoil tonight with awkward conversations.

  ‘Don’t move,’ she said, and stepped forward before kneeling at his feet.

  ‘Mak, I want—fuck...’ he groaned as she wrapped her mouth around him. Taking the tip of his cock between her lips. Flicking her tongue out to tease him. Licking him like she couldn’t get enough. Driving him frigging nuts.

  He watched her take him in deeper, the moist heat of her mouth making him grit his teeth. What she couldn’t take into her mouth she wrapped her hand around and that was when the fun really began.

  She started moving her hand and mouth in sync, sucking and licking as if he were all her favourite ice cream flavours rolled into one.

  The hottest fucking thing he’d ever experienced.

  But the pressure in his balls built too quickly so he had to stop. The first time he came he wanted to be inside her.

  ‘Baby...’ He laid a hand on her head and eased her away. She glanced up at him, questioning, and he knelt, bringing him to eye level. ‘As much as I’m in blow-job heaven, I need to be inside you.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, her lips curving in a saucy smile. ‘Heaven, huh?’

  ‘You have no idea.’

  Then finally, after waiting forever to do this, he kissed her. Slow grazes of his lips against hers. Increasing the pressure each time. Lingering longer. Until her tongue darted out to touch his and he was lost.

  Their tongues tangled as he hau
led her against him, her breasts crushing against his chest, her skin soft beneath his touch but incredibly hot, as if she were burning up from the inside out.

  He knew the feeling.

  Breaking the kiss long enough to fish a condom out of his trouser pocket, he sheathed himself and returned to where he wanted to be. In Mak’s arms.

  ‘Lean back,’ she said, pushing him slightly, until his back rested against the couch.

  She straddled him, arms braced either side of his head. He held his breath as she lowered herself, her entrance nudging his cock.

  Without breaking eye contact, she slid lower. Inch by exquisite inch. Her mouth open, eyes glazed, until she’d taken all of him inside her slick heat.

  ‘You make me feel...wanton,’ she said, raising her arms to lift the hair off her shoulders, tilting her head back, thrusting her breasts at him in a pose of sheer abandonment.

  He thrust upward, garnering a smug smile from her, so he did it again. Holding her hips. Pushing upward. Savouring her moans, her pants.

  She undulated on him, rising and falling in perfect synchronicity with the pounding in his head reverberating all the way down his spine to his balls.

  He wanted to suck her nipples but he couldn’t take his eyes off her, the way she rode him with wicked intent.

  It was too much, too soon, but he had as much chance of not coming as he did of forgetting this incredible night. So he reached between them, circled her clit with his thumb. Felt the first ripples of her orgasm deep within.

  She picked up the pace, sliding up and down with abandon, the sheen of sweat making her body glow. Unable to hold back a second longer, his body tensed and he gave one last flick against her clit, savouring the moment she fell apart. Her body stiff, breasts thrust upward, expression cataclysmic as she screamed his name and he came so hard he saw spots.

  She slumped against him, clung to him and he held her tight.

  There were no words.

  Superfluous, considering what had just happened.

  Mak had blown apart his world as he knew it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MAKAYLA KNEW SHE should’ve left the moment her heart rate had returned to normal the first time they’d had sex in Hudson’s living room.