The Poet's Cookbook (Now Entering Hillford 3) by Piper Lennox

Author:Piper Lennox [Lennox, Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piper Lennox
Published: 2020-02-19T16:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Hudson’s kiss starts like last night’s: his hands frame my face with a touch so safe, I melt into it…but so powerful, I beg him for more.

“Not too late to stop,” he breathes, kissing me harder as he presses his hand between my legs.

If I could, I’d laugh: of course it is.

Fire unfolds through me. My hips thrust upward, out of my control when his tongue enters my mouth. I know I’ve got to be imagining it: the way he tastes like rose petals.

We move our seats back for more space. Hudson undoes the top button of my shirt, then the second, his other hand drawing a shiver out of me as he unhooks my bra and lets his fingers tumble down my spine.

“Hudson,” I sigh, when his breath pours over the tops of my breasts. He pulls the cup down and sucks my nipple into his mouth, and I swear I feel him smile when I moan.

For all our experience and the years that have passed, we fumble our way through each other’s clothes like we’re sixteen again: rushed, desperate…and way too horny for our own good.

“I don’t have protection on me,” he says, after we’ve managed a successful round of human Tetris to get him in my seat, pants to mid-thigh, with me across his lap. My head bumps the ceiling when I sit up and tell him I don’t, either.

“Pill?” he asks hopefully. “Diaphragm?”

“Nothing. Sorry. It’s...been a while.” Not nearly as long for me as it’s been for him, apparently…but enough so that birth control has been miles from my thoughts. I’m starting to think Bram’s banner of condoms in the pocket was pretty smart—which proves how little blood is flowing to my brain.

“Don’t be sorry. I have an idea.”

My heart feels like it stops, I’m so excited. I used to live for Hudson’s “ideas,” every time he’d pull me close and whisper just what he wanted to do to me, and where. As soon as I’d ask, “When?” he’d whisper, “Right now.”

Touching me in the river, huddling close to the dock as his friends passed beers up the hill; going up my dress in a coat closet at a party; cornering me in the alley beside the smoothie shop when Alexis thought I was on break—he wouldn’t just whisper the premise, but every last detail of how, with a single touch, he’d make my body his.

Because as quiet and respectful as Hudson was...he also had a beautifully filthy mouth.

And thankfully, that hasn’t changed a bit.

“I’m going to finger you,” he whispers, lips skating across my ear, “right now while you’re straddling me...until you have my cock, this seat, and the entire floor mat completely soaked.”

“Oh, my God,” I cry, because not only is this exactly as dirty and vivid as I’d hoped…but also because he thrusts two fingers inside me without warning, the second his sentence ends.

Hudson wastes no time putting his idea in action: he finds my G-spot and pulses against it, alternating between that

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