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“You can’t sneak up on me and expect not to get kneed. Defending myself is what I was doing,” I point out with a half thrust, my fists still fixed above my head on the wall, wishing instead it’s his headboard.
“I wasn’t sneaking up on you. It looked like you were going to the apartment next to mine, which has been vacant for months. It made me suspicious.”
He’s my next-door neighbor? A nervous chuckle escapes. I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s extreme. Don’t grind against him. Do not solicit him to bang you in this hallway right now.
“I’m going to let you go, but don’t assault me again,” he advises, scanning me for a few seconds before releasing me.
I rattle my fists, seeking to bring the feeling back in my arms. How long have we been standing against the wall like that? A mighty thud sounds from the floor above us. His breathing hitches and he takes a couple of steps back from me.
His black pants look a little dirty, and his tie’s loose. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving me a glimpse of a tattoo on the upper left part of his chest. Why am I thinking about sex in a time like this? Why is this man pushing me up against the wall so damn sexy?
He brushes off his pants, buttons his shirt back up, and then grabs his crotch again.
“Fuck. I’m never having kids now,” he yells, walking over to his apartment and unlocking the door.
I try to change the subject, because this encounter has been awkward, and I feel bad about his nuts. No way would I have reacted that way if I knew it was Hudson coming up the stairs.
“What kind of pizza do you like?”
Hudson looks at me like I’d just struck him across his face. His brows furrow.
I keep inquiring until he finally provides me with an answer.
“Pepperoni.”
The inside of his apartment when he opens the door appears to be a typical unmarried man’s home. Leather couch, huge TV, and not much else. The one thing I can say, it’s clean. I search around for any indication that a woman lives here. No decorations, pictures, or frilly curtains. He’s definitely single.
He excuses himself to use the bathroom, so I go next door, collect the pizza, and make it back before him. I take a seat on his couch and open up the pizza box.
“You sure you don’t like meat lovers? Most men like meat, right? Large sausage for you,” I say, peering down at a bulge in his pants.
“You need to leave,” he howls.
The way he towers over me in front of the couch with his bulge in my face isn’t having the effect it is. Now, all I can think about is taking care of him. It must hurt.
“Certainly not. I’m free for the rest of the night. Heat the pizza, my treat.”
I lean back on the couch and splay my arms on the back. His lip curls, and he crosses his arms.
“Believe me, you got lucky. You wouldn’t have placed a hand on me if I wasn’t caught off guard,”
I chuckle. “You let me knee you? Wow, the kinky sex life you must be hiding,” I declare, with a wink.
All I can think about is him binding me up, showing off his muscles, and making me scream. Thank God, he didn’t catch sight of me looking toward the bedroom. Hudson has me riled up, and nothing about him makes me want to go back home.
“Do you use plates or just eat out of the box?”
He sits down on the last cushion away from me, and I challenge the desire to drop on top of him and just take what I need, but then I’d really be ludicrous. I hardly know this guy, and the visceral appeal isn’t everything. No random hookups. Not my style. So I just rest on the couch, continuing to eat my pizza in silence. It didn’t help that I could see the imprint of his dick through his pants. My mind keeps cruising in circles with dark and dirty intentions.
Oh, fuck me!
