"Uh-uh," his deep voice hums against the delicate flesh while he peppers kisses up and down my throat, "I had something else in mind—something a little more tart, with a sugary cream filling."
My face flames with embarrassment and I squeeze my thighs together as heat pools in my center. "I-uh, I don't think Grams made any lemon meringue macaroons today," I stammer breathlessly.
"Hudson," he warns, slowly dropping his hand down my midriff as his fingers grow dangerously close to brushing over my mound.
An uncontrollable moan bubbles up from my chest, but it’s swallowed by Crew's mouth before it emerges. He kisses me hard, his lips fervent, tongue insistent, and words are flowing from my mouth before I even realize it.
"Meet me in my bedroom in ten minutes. The front door is unlocked," I whisper as we break apart.
His lips curl up in his signature panty-dropping smile. "I'll be waiting."
Eight minutes. That's exactly how long it takes me to arrange the remainder of the desserts in the dining room, sneak away to my house, and lock my bedroom door behind me. Spinning around, I find Crew—a very naked Crew—sprawled out on my bed with his head propped up by a mountain of pillows.
"C'mere, baby," he drawls, his Texan accent heavier than normal. "I'm ready for that dessert."
I kick my shoes off and saunter across the carpet, my heart thudding with growing excitement. Even though we’ve been intimate over half a dozen times, most recently just over twelve hours ago, I learn something new about his body—as well as mine—each time. And I can’t wait to see what this evening’s lesson will teach me.
Pushing himself up to sitting, he lowers his feet to the floor and partially opens his legs, giving me an excellent view of his already-hard shaft. I try not to stare, but fail miserably. His arms shoot out and grab my hips, then pull me close so that his face is mere inches from my chest. Then, drawing the hem of my sweater up to expose first my stomach, and then my breasts, he quickly tugs it over my head and throws it to the side.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks while unbuttoning my jeans and hauling the denim down my legs, my panties going along for the ride. "I can't fucking get enough, Hudson." His lips sizzle against my ivory skin as he slides off the mattress and down to his knees in front of me, trailing soft kisses from my belly button down to my throbbing sex. "I’m like a damn junkie, and you're my drug...always fiending for my next fix."
What he says after that, I miss altogether, because the moment his mouth lands firmly at the apex of my thighs, all I can feel are the baritone vibrations of his words rippling through my body. With one hand securely grasping my waist, he hooks the other behind my knee and lifts my left leg up off the floor, resting my foot on the bed frame. Now, completely open and exposed to him, he settles between my legs and begins to do things with his mouth that I never dreamed were possible.
Soft nuzzle, long swipe, hard suck…then repeat. Over and over and over again, my climax growing closer and closer with each swipe of his tongue, he teases and taunts me to the point I’m barely able to stand on my wobbly legs.
“Crew, please,” I beg, tangling impatient fingers through his messy brown locks, “please don’t stop.”
Peering up at me with an intensely ravenous gaze, his irises darkened to a deep hunter green, he catches my clit between his teeth, rolling it on his tongue. With a loud hiss, I yank even harder on his hair and grind my sex shamelessly against his mouth, unraveling into my own personal nirvana as I call out his name.
Then, in one fluid motion, he scoops me up and flips me over so that my face and chest are flat against the mattress and my ass is angled up into the air. Still floating in a blissful daze, I faintly hear the sound of a plastic wrapper being torn open, and seconds later, with his fingers biting into the skin covering my hip, Crew sinks inside me with one smooth movement, my body more than ready for him.
Holy fuck me.
He leans forward and presses his lips to my spine while still fully buried, allowing my body a moment to adjust to his girth and length. “Tell me when you’re good, beautiful,” he whispers, skimming his palms up and down my sides.
“I’m good,” I pant out, welcoming the tiny bit of pain I feel each time he enters me—an ache that lingers for hours after he’s gone, but reminds me where he’s been.
As he straightens his back, his hands return to my hips and I brace myself for the ride. Watching him over my shoulder, I love witnessing the pleasure flash across his face as he claims my body time and time again, filling me with a sense of power and pride like I’ve never experienced before.
Digging his thumbs into the dimples in the small of my back, I feel his release drawing near. Our eyes are locked on each other as he pounds into me, each stroke driving us both higher and higher to the peak of ecstasy. With one last thrust, we freefall together into a sea of euphoria, neither of us able to hold back our moans of ecstasy.
We lie still for several minutes while our shallow breathing returns to normal and our pulse steadies. Eventually, he carefully slides out of me, and I whimper softly at his absence. Rolling me onto my back, his bright smile makes my heart flutter and his long, lingering kiss makes my toes curl.
“My girl is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmurs softly before standing up to get dressed. “Without a doubt, Hudson is my new favorite flavor.”
The days after Thanksgiving blur by in the blink of an eye. The resort is at capacity, the Green Halo can barely keep up with the holiday demand, and I have a major Lit paper due on Monday—tomorrow morning. Awesome.
From the time Crew left for work late Thursday afternoon, I’ve been in a constant go-go-go mindset, only stopping to sleep when my body finally gives into exhaustion. Moving from the marijuana greenhouse, cultivating and packaging as much product as I have available, to the vegetable garden, ensuring we have plenty of produce for each morning’s breakfast, I continue to maintain my responsibilities for the family businesses, never wanting to disappoint my parents in any way.
Each evening, I spend huddled in front of my laptop, brainstorming and writing page after page on the relevance of Soyinka’s Nobel prize-winning collection, Of Africa, and his claims regarding faith, medicine, and the healing of the human spirit to today’s Western culture. Little did I know when I chose this topic months ago that I would meet Caleb, whose miraculous turnaround over the last several weeks has become my primary source of illustration throughout the paper. I giggle aloud when I think about how he’ll respond when I tell him he earned me an A in a class. He’ll probably demand a kiss in the form of repayment.
Unfortunately, Crew has been just as busy as I have, so other than playing text-tag, I haven’t seen or talked to him since he had dessert in my bed. Three whole days and I’ve started to have withdrawals. Maybe I’m the one with the addiction…
Mary’s been putting in extra hours at the ski shop thanks to the holiday rush, so he’s been spending his days with Caleb, taking him to doctor appointments and helping him study his homeschool material. He’s also worked some extra shifts at the Half Pipe, claiming one of the other bartenders said he could make close to two thousand dollars for working Wednesday through Sunday of this week, and from what he’s told me via messages, he’s just a few hundred dollars shy with only tonight’s shift left to go.
At a little after nine, I hit save on the document for the final time, my vision fuzzy from staring at the screen for so long and my fingertips numb from typing. Standing up from the desk chair, I stretch my arms high above my head and yawn just as Brighton walks into the study.