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“Live in it,” he whispers into my neck. “Keep yourself here until it’s the only thing.”

It’s already the only thing, but my voice doesn’t work right now. He’ll have to call back later.

A small change in the angle of his thrusts, and I’m suddenly knocked into a different universe. My voice comes back. “Oh, fuck. Yes. Please.”

The words don’t stop as he drives me higher. Faster. Until they’re not words anymore and it’s one long moan. I can’t stop. I’m caught in a storm between the two pleasures, and there’s no way to stop it now. No way. The orgasm catches me and drags me over the edge. My hips are moving on their own, grinding down into the vibrator and back up into Hudson and again. And I scream.

I shout Hudson’s name and beg him for more. He gives it to me. The pleasure is a cascade that doesn’t end. I’m trapped under that waterfall, completely unable to come up for air. So far gone that I barely register when he comes too. It’s all a part of the aftershocks. My voice still echoes off the walls of the small room, Hudson slowing his pace and drawing out the pleasure for both of us.

My body is shaking like I’ve run a marathon. I don’t move when he turns the vibrator off and pulls out of me. But he doesn’t leave. I nearly have the strength to turn over, but I do. “Okay,” I say, yanking him down to kiss me. “You win. Mission accomplished. That’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Hudson chuckles as he kisses me, and then we both freeze.

A soft cough comes from the doorway to the bedroom, and we both look, staring in horror, at my parents.

6

Hudson

Oh fuck.

This is bad.

Really bad.

It’s bad enough that Erin is a guest, but fucking a guest and then being caught in the act by her parents after making their daughter scream is probably the worst thing that could happen.

I see it in her face.

She’s already facing humiliation because of everything that’s happened with vet school and her dreams. Her entire life plan. This isn’t going to help.

How can I fix this? This was all my idea, and I’m not going to let Erin suffer embarrassment because of me. The door closes, and in seconds we’re scrambling for our clothes. Thank fuck that my jeans are here in the bedroom, even though my shirt is in the living room. It could be worse.

Erin’s face is horrified, and with those eyes that hide nothing, I can see that she’s freaking out. This is the smallest guest house that we have on the property, and the fireplace is open between the two rooms. It’s not exactly like we can come up with a story while her parents are in the next room.

An idea pops into my mind from nowhere. It’s a little risky, but it could work. She has clothes on now, and I catch her and pull her to me. Panic is written all over her face. I kiss her softly, and it’s just as intoxicating as ever. One touch of her lips and I’m completely lost. It’s an effort to pull away, but I do, and I whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

She bites her lip, and I can see by the look on her face that she’s unsure if I actually do have this, but I do. My own panic has settled, and I know this will work. I open the door and we head out into the living room where Mr. O’Neill is sitting on the couch—where I feasted on his daughter—and Mrs. O’Neill is in the kitchen looking lost.

I walk over to my shirt on the floor and pick it up. They already caught us having sex. The fact that my shirt is on the floor shouldn’t exactly be a surprise. I smile at the two of them. “I’m sorry about the surprise.”

Her father blinks. “Well, uh—”

“I was hoping to talk to you more privately before you found out this way, but it didn’t feel right in front of the rest of your party.” I hold out a hand to Mr. O’Neill to shake. “Officially, I’m Hudson LeGrand. I’m Erin’s fiancée.”

The whole room is so silent that you could hear a fly land on the counter if there was one. Including Erin.

“Fiancée?” Mrs. O’Neill asks.

“We meant to tell you yesterday, but there wasn’t a good time.”

I see the looks on her parents’ faces, and they’re probably thinking about all the times that Erin said she was visiting here. They likely think she was coming here all those times to see me. It makes sense given the story that she’s already spun. And Mrs. O’Neill nods. They’re skeptical, but they buy it.

Mr. O’Neill clears his throat and laughs a little. “Certainly not a conventional introduction.”

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