Down in Flames by Kate Meader

Author:Kate Meader [Meader, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kate Meader LLC

Fifteen

Jude

Hudson has wrecked me.

I don’t know why he affects me like this. Maybe it’s the mass of contradictions: that shy demeanor paired with the come-to-bed eyes, the way his mind runs in circles yet his body clearly has one direction to travel.

How he’s the nicest guy I’ve ever met and far too fucking good for me.

I don’t do shame, but I know my limits. I can get any guy I want in the bedroom, and that’s usually all I need. No point in complicating it. Most guys are ready to head out right after the deed—typically those are the kinds of fucks I go for.

Rarely do I bring anyone home. That way I don’t even have to think about the exit strategy. It’s all under my control.

But I’m not ready for Hudson to go. We’re just getting started.

He’s looking up at me now with those whiskey-warm eyes, the ones I might drown in if I’m not careful.

“You okay?”

“Never better,” he says. I think he means it.

“Let’s get cleaned up.” I hold out my hand to lead him to the shower, and a flash of before lights up my cerebral cortex.

If that shy smile is anything to go by, he remembers as well.

“This won’t be as fancy as a hotel.”

“Don’t need fancy,” he assures me.

We’re quick and functional in my unfancy shower, both eager to return to the pleasure that awaits. Still, I can’t resist letting my hands and lips linger on his shoulders, abs, chest, ass. I stay away from his cock, which is mighty difficult because it’s poking at me, pleading for my touch.

“So soon, baby?” I kiss his jaw, then nibble on his earlobe while I rinse him off. “We’ll have to take care of that.” With a light brush of his cock, I watch his mouth part on a gasp. So sensitive.

Before I lose my mind and the water runs cold, I have him out and toweled off. As I dry myself, he takes the towel and does it for me, slowly, with unexpected care. For each section of skin he pats dry, he adds a soft kiss, igniting me all over. Not sure I deserve that attention, but right this minute, I’m a selfish fucker, and I’ll take everything he can give me.

I need to lie beside him.

I need to touch him, kiss him, suck him, fuck him.

In the bedroom, I guide him to the bed and take out the lube and condoms, ready to get busy. But this is Hudson we’re talking about, a guy with the curiosity of a newborn kitten. He’s checking out the walls, my bookshelves, everything he can lay eyes on.

“That art looks original.”

“It’s my mom’s.”

“It’s amazing. She’s so talented.”

She was. Dad never encouraged her, but when I moved out, I took all the pieces she left behind.

“She died when I was fourteen.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

My pulse begins to ratchet up, but not in a good way. It was strangely easier to talk about my bad behavior with my friends than

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