Hudson

Chapter Seven

I’m a composed man. Always in control. I’ve run meetings of disgruntled board members without forming a bead of sweat. I’ve bid on high stock investments without altering my pulse. I’ve played convincible mind games without batting an eye.

Tonight, in the presence of a woman I hardly know, I’m in over my head.

Perhaps I’m losing my touch. Or maybe I’ve just finally met my match.

Alayna enters the bubble room before me. Just yesterday, on her first shift after her vacation at my spa, I was introduced to her as the new owner of the club. We haven’t yet had a chance to establish a working relationship. This is by design. I don’t want her to see me as her boss or a business associate. I need her to see me as a man. As a potential lover.

So here we are in as close to a non-work environment as I can establish within the club. She’s accompanying me while I eat dinner. The setup should feel to her like a date. However, it also feels like a date for me and that is why I’m a bit daunted.

At least we’ll be daunted together.

Alayna flips the switch to indicate our bubble room is occupied. Then she hands me a menu. It’s slightly amusing. She’s not on-the-clock, and yet she’s still on duty.

I gesture for her to take a seat. “After you.”

She sits, and I watch her closely. Her knuckles are nearly white from gripping the table edge. Her heel is bouncing against the carpeted floor. She’s nervous to be here—alone—with me. Frankly, I am too. But it’s up to me to calm her nerves. And mine.

Jesus, I’m fucked.

I remove my jacket and take my time hanging it up on the hook behind me. This is when I get my shit together. I’ve only got one shot at pulling this off and if I don’t do it right, the whole scheme is over before it’s begun. And I’ll look like an idiot.

One deep breath in and I’m ready to face her. Game on.

I sit across from her and throw down the menu she gave me. “I don’t need this. Do you?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Pierce.”

“Hudson,” I correct.

“No, thank you, Hudson.” The sound of my name on her lips and I’m already straining in my pants. “I’ve already eaten.”

“A drink then? Though, I know you work at eleven.” This is all a ruse. I’ve already ordered for us both. And I’m the one who needs the drink.

Alayna’s tongue flicks across her lower lip. “Maybe an iced tea.”

Now I’m thinking of her tongue flicking across my cock. “Good.”

I press the button in the middle of the table that summons the waitress and my fingers crash into hers. Her touch, the stunning warmth in this brief contact—I must have more. She moves to pull away, but I don’t let her and take her hand in mine.

She inhales sharply as I stroke my thumb along the back of her hand.

I lock my eyes on hers, noticing her pupils widen. I make an excuse about why I’m still touching her. She accepts it. From the look on her expression, she’ll accept anything I say at the moment.

She’s into me. This is good.

I’d worried that my harsh meeting with her the day before had ended her attraction. Admittedly, I’d been…not very friendly is one way to put it. It was necessary though. She’d been dressed provocatively—again—and I’d made a scene about it. I had to establish my authority in front of David. I had to show from the beginning that Alayna would not be my favorite as far as work was concerned—though she very much already was.

And I had to put an end to her wearing outfits that invited men to harass her. Maybe she could handle their advances. I could not.

Necessary as it was, the flare of anger that had sparked in her eyes afterward had concerned me. Now, as I caress her skin, and she practically melts in my hand, I realize my anxiety was in vain.

Also, I realize how nice it feels to touch her like this. Extremely nice.

My phone rings, interrupting our contact.

“Excuse me.” I remove my phone from my pants pocket and silence it. I know from the ringtone who it is—Celia. She’s likely checking in on my progress.

Fuck her. She’s too eager and it pisses me off. I’ll get back to her when I’m good and ready, if at all.

“You can take it if you need to,” Alayna says.

“There can’t be anything important enough to interrupt this conversation.” It’s a line and not a line all at once. Is it possible to play the game and be sincere at the same time? My script is very loose. I know where I’m supposed to end before I walk out of this room, but everything that takes place before then is improvised. In my past schemes, I’d study the subject and make educated guesses as to what he or she wanted to hear in order to get them to the finish. I artfully manipulated.

This is not like that.

Though everything I have said and done so far has set me up perfectly for my task, a great deal of it has come organically. It’s genuine.

It’s such a foreign arrangement that, again, I have the sensation of being completely fucked.

The waitress enters and I’m relieved for the break in my thoughts. She places my dinner in front of me along with a glass of Sancerre. Then she sets a glass of iced tea in front of Alayna.

Alayna’s brow rises and I answer her unasked question. “I asked Liesl what you usually drank. If you had said you wanted something different, I wouldn’t look quite so cool at this moment.”

My play is working—she relaxes ever so slightly and gives me a smile. “Hmm, cool is not quite the word I’d use for you.”

Well, this is intriguing. “What word would you use for me then?”

She blushes and takes a sip of her tea. I’m betting she was thinking something dirty. I’m desperate to find out.

But the waitress interrupts my quest. “Anything else, Mr. Pierce?”

“We’re good.” I wait until she’s gone to return to my pursuit. “What word would you use for me, Alayna?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Controlled.”

“Interesting.” It’s not what she was going to say. I take a bite of my sea bass, seemingly diverting my attention. “Not that controlled isn’t an accurate description of me. But I had thought from the look on your face that you would say something else.”

She doesn’t respond and I’m more convinced that her thoughts were inappropriate. She moves her eyes to study the club below us. As I eat my meal, I study her. She’s not as easy to read as most people I encounter. Or perhaps it’s that I want to know more of her than I can scope out on my own. I want to know what she’s thinking. What she thinks about me.

What the hell is that about? I can’t remember the last time I cared about what someone thought of me. Yet here I am, not only craving to possess her body, but her mind as well. I want to be in her thoughts. I want her as consumed with me as I am with her.

At the same time, the idea petrifies me.

So I deflect. “I know why you agreed to dine with me, Alayna.” Actually, I gave her no choice. But she likely has some ideas of why I’ve invited her here, and it’s time to start weeding out the ones that are wrong. “I have to be honest with you. I don’t intend to help you with your desire to make management.”

In fact, I’d spent the earlier part of the evening discussing this very topic with David. I listened to him tell me Alayna’s qualifications in depth. I let him convince me that promoting her was the best move for The Sky Launch. Only when I was sure he would move her along the career path that I wished for her did I tell him that I had no interest in being involved with the day-to-day operations of the club. We both left our meeting pleased.

Alayna, though, is fidgeting before me and I sense her disappointment in my proclamation.

I attempt to relieve her. “That doesn’t mean you won’t be promoted. David said you’re quite capable, and I’m sure you’ll get the position without my help. I may own The Sky Launch, but I am not your boss. David is your boss and will continue to be unless the business no longer thrives under his command.”

She lets out a sigh and I believe she’s reassured.

Now, with that out of the way… “But I didn’t invite you here to discuss the club.”

Her body tenses again. “Why did you invite me?”

It’s the moment to drop my bomb. But I can’t help but flirt around the other option that has probably crossed her mind. “Perhaps I like you.”

It’s not until after I’ve said it that I realize the depth of its honesty. I do like her. I’m often intrigued by people—not to the level that I am with Alayna, but there are those who do attract my interest. It’s rare, though, that I like them. And I like Alayna. Quite a lot already.

She shudders, and I adore that I’ve flustered her. She takes a sip of her drink. “Perhaps I’m seeing someone.”

Even more, I adore that she challenges me despite being thrown off-kilter. It helps take my mind off how off-kilter she’s thrown me.

I know she’s single because of my research, but I would have guessed it even without my spies. “You aren’t. No man would let his woman wear the outfit you wore yesterday.” Now she bristles, and I wonder if I shouldn’t have brought up the encounter where I’d chided her. My thoughts wander to the tight-fitting corset—how her breasts spilled beautifully over the top. I wouldn’t mind seeing it on her again. In private.

So I add, “Not in public, anyway.”

Her eyes spark at the obvious innuendo I’ve made, yet her jaw clenches defiantly. “Perhaps I’m not into controlling boyfriends.”

Touché. “Very well, Alayna.” I cock a brow. “Are you seeing anyone?”

I’ve got her now. But she doesn’t fold, and that’s to be admired. Instead, she sits up straighter and borrows one of my favorite tactics—diversion. “That isn’t why you invited me, Hudson. You have an agenda.”

“An agenda.” I stifle my laugh. She’s so straightforward with me. It’s alarmingly refreshing. “Yes, Alayna, I have an agenda.”

I’m not prepared to share my agenda just yet. Or, rather, she’s not prepared. I play my next card instead. “I presume you enjoyed your time at my spa last week.”

I wish that I could leave the spa as an anonymous gift, wish that I didn’t have to pull it into this game. But the truth is I’m afraid that she will not accept the even larger gift that is part of this scheme. I have to lay the path, get her comfortable with my wealth. If she can see that she’s already taken advantage of what I can offer, then it won’t be so out of her comfort level to concede to more.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you owned…wait...” The moment she registers what I’ve admitted is clearly shown in her expression. “The gift was from you?”

“Yes. Did you have a nice time?”

“No. Way.” Her mouth drops open in surprise.

“No way?” This isn’t an answer to my question, I know. It stems from her awe. I’m glad now that I had to give this secret away. It makes me want to explore what other ways I can surprise her. Particularly ways that involve no clothing.

“I mean, yes, I had a nice time—a wonderful time, in fact—but no way could you have done that. Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why ever not?”

Alayna’s eyes are wide and electric. “Because that’s big!”

“Not for me.” I’m not an idiot. I know how it looks. It was an extravagant gift from a stranger. She probably thinks I’m trying to get her in my bed. I am, but the gift was given independently from that.

“But for me it is. It’s huge! And you don’t even know me! It’s completely inappropriate and unprofessional and unprecedented and inappropriate. And if I’d known it was from you, I never would have accepted it.”

Despite her statement, I do not regret my actions. I’m a man with money. I’m not often generous, but I’m rarely refuted when I am. “It’s not inappropriate at all. It was simply a gift. Think of it as a golden hello.” I’m diverting again. Or trying to, at least.

The tactic doesn’t seem to be working. “But you don’t give gifts like that to women who work for you unless you’re running an entirely different kind of club.”

“You’re overreacting, Alayna.” Though she’s actually quite adorable when she’s this worked up.

“I’m not!” Her expression changes from frustrated to quizzical. “And what do you mean a golden hello? You mean, like a signing bonus?”

“Yes, Alayna.” I’ve toyed with her enough. “That’s my agenda. I would like to hire you.”

“I already work for you and I’m happy where I am.” She’s startled and confused.

But I have her attention.

“Again, I don’t feel that you do work for me. I am not your boss. I own the establishment that you work for. That is all. Is that clear?”

I relax when she nods. This is an important delineation for me. As her boss, I’d have the opportunity to work with her closely. However, I want her to choose that for herself. It has nothing to do with the scam Celia is playing—it’s simply how I desire to interact with Alayna. I want our relationship to be unforced. I want it to develop naturally.

I’m a fairly humorless person, but that notion makes even me want to laugh. How can any of it be natural when every bit of it is a ruse?

Well, not every bit of it. Fuck, I don’t even know anymore myself.

It’s then I realize that now that I’m the owner of the club, Celia has nothing to trap me with. I could walk away from this here and now, couldn’t I? I could spend time with Alayna on my own terms—ask her out on a real date, even.

But the idea is too absurd. I never date. And I know Celia—she won’t give up that easily. Also, I’m not a person to make decisions impulsively.

“This wouldn’t affect your employment at the club.” I lean toward her. “Maybe hire is not the correct term. I’d like to pay you to help me with a problem. I believe you’d be perfect for the job.”

“You win. My curiosity is piqued. What’s the job?”

I have her exactly where I want her. I pause to heighten the suspense. “I need you to break up an engagement.” God, how I’ve mastered the art of drama. It’s pathetic; it really is.

She coughs. “Um, what? Whose?”

Leaning back, I reveal my bombshell. “Mine.”

She gapes and I’m lost again in naughty thoughts about her lips. “Close your mouth, Alayna. Although it’s quite adorable to see you flabbergasted, it’s also very distracting.”

Though she closes her mouth, I can see she’s still aghast. I pass her my wine. She takes a swallow—her taste mixing with mine—and then speaks. “I didn’t realize you were engaged.”

She blushes as she says it and I have to look away. She’s too delectable. I consider abandoning the scheme and focusing on seduction instead. But there’s still a lot of groundwork to lay so I deny myself a little longer, and explain to Alayna Withers the strange relationship that Celia and I have found ourselves in. Though much is omitted, almost none of what I say is a lie. I tell her how our parents are friends, how they want us to marry, how my mother thinks there is no one but Celia for me.

I don’t say that our parents’ belief that we should wed is based on a relationship that Celia and I never had. The Werners and my mother—they’ve partnered Celia and me in their minds ever since that summer ten years before. That’s not an important part of this charade, though, and it’s a time I prefer to not think about. So I leave that out.

I leave too much out. Because she soon says, “I’m missing something.”

I nod. “I suppose you are.” I take my glass back from her and finish it off before clearing up the last detail. It’s another truth—the most important truth of this scheme, and one that I’ve never been ashamed to admit. Until now. “Alayna, if there is anyone in the world who has any power over me, it’s my mother.” And Mirabelle, but that’s neither here nor there for the moment. “My mother knows that I am…” I don’t need to search for the word, but I pause anyway. “…incapable…of love. She worries that I will…end up alone. A marriage with her best friend’s daughter, at least, insures that won’t happen.”

I wish I had more to drink as a new doubt starts creeping in. Am I really incapable of love? Or was it merely an idea planted by a psychiatrist in my teenage years with no basis in reality? I’ve never cared to challenge the notion, and suddenly, out of nowhere, I wonder if I should.

But that challenge could threaten to disrupt everything I know.

So I quickly abandon it, and move on with the setup. I explain that if I were in love with someone else, our parents would be delighted. More than delighted—my mother would have a fucking heart attack. Or she simply wouldn’t believe it. That is the more likely scenario.

At one point, Alayna narrows her eyes and asks, “So I’m supposed to be the floozy you’re in love with?”

This amuses me greatly. There is nothing common or lowly about the woman sitting across from me. “No one would ever mistake you as a floozy, Alayna. Even when you dress like one.” I was particularly naughty with that last line. It was an excuse to think of that corset one more time. Fuck, she was lovely in it.

She’s not quite so happy with my comment. “Why don’t you hire a real floozy to put on your charade?”

“My mother would never believe I’d fall for a floozy. You, however, have particular qualities—qualities that would make the story quite believable.”

“What sort of qualities?”

Her patience is wearing. Frankly, so is mine. I can’t skirt my desire for her any longer. I catch her up in my stare. “You are exquisitely beautiful, Alayna, and also extremely intelligent.”

“Oh.”

She’s stunned. As am I. Because in her eyes, I see the reflection of my own want and I yearn to explore it further. Yearn to explore her further. Carnal fantasies fight for playtime in my conscience. The things I could do to her…

Not yet. Soon.

I break the eye contact. “And you’re a brunette. All three make you ‘my type’ so to say.” I don’t date, but I do fuck. The women I fuck are beautiful. They are intelligent enough for me to make it through an evening in their company. And they are, by and large, brunette. I don’t know if I like them dark simply because of preference or if it’s got something to do with Celia being blonde. Whatever the answer, Alayna fits the bill.

She fits the bill so entirely that it’s all I want to think about.

But there are details to work through. I lay out the hook of the scheme. Payment.

As I suspect, she laughs at my offer to pay off her eighty thousand dollars in student loans in exchange for her participation in the scenario. She doesn’t realize that I’ve already paid it, and I’m sure if she knew, she’d be gone by now.

She isn’t gone, though. She’s still here listening intently to my every word, but Alayna isn’t buying my proposition. I feared it would take convincing, and it seems I was right. It doesn’t help that I’m distracted from my task. All I can think about is getting her beneath me.

But that’s not the point of this meeting, I remind myself. My goal tonight is to get her to agree to pretend to be my girlfriend. The salary should have been the selling point. It wasn’t, and I’m glad of that.

Still, she wants to know more. I’m glad of that as well.

“What exactly would you want me to do?” she asks. It’s beyond her better judgment. She can’t help herself.

I relax. My scheme hasn’t caught her interest yet, but I’m near done trying to entice her to play the game I’m asking her to play. “Pretend we’re a couple. I’d invite you to several gatherings where my mother would see us together. I’d expect you to hang on my arm and behave as though we’re madly in love.”

“And that’s all?”

“That’s all.” That’s not all I want, but it’s all I had planned to ask tonight. My plans are on the verge of changing.

It’s only because I’m studying her so closely that I notice her swallow.

“This pretend relationship—to what extent would I be expected to perform?”

I don’t know if I’m angry or turned on that she’s so nervous about the prospect of sleeping with me.

Turned on, I decide. The way her eyes dart up and down my body, the way her gaze keeps returning to my lips—I know she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. She simply doesn’t want to be considered a whore, and neither would I want that for her.

She’ll have to become more comfortable than that if she expects me to give her what she wants—what she needs. I can tolerate innocence but I won’t take ambiguity when it comes to a physical relationship. “Don’t pussyfoot about it. You’re asking about sex.”

It’s then that I make my decision once and for all. Though it isn’t supposed to be part of the arrangement, though it’s not what I meant for tonight, I have to have her and I can’t wait any longer for her to know. “I never pay for sex, Alayna. When I fuck you, it will be for free.”

Her eyes widen and unmistakably darken. She wriggles in her chair. I’ve revealed her weakness for me and she doesn’t know how to react. She’s helpless.

And I’m turned on as fuck at her discomfort.

“Maybe I should go,” she says.

“Do you want to?” I know she doesn’t. I’m inviting her to stay.

“I’m n-not sure. Yes. I think I should.” She stutters her response.

It’s sexy as hell. I want to hear her shaking and stuttering with my tongue in her cunt. I’m hard at the thought.

“Because you’re uncomfortable with my proposition?” I can’t stop myself—I have to make her squirm more. “Or because I told you that I’m going to fuck you?”

“I’m…yes. That.”

I tilt my head, intrigued. Is she playing hard to get or is she ignoring the chemistry between us? “But I‘m certain that’s not a surprise to you, Alayna. You feel the electricity between us. Your body language expresses it quite well. I wouldn’t be surprised to find you’re already wet.”

She blushes and I almost take her right here.

I flash a smile. “Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t you know I feel the same?” My cock grows harder and it’s my turn to shift in my seat. “If you were to carefully read my body, you’d see the evidence.”

Fuck my agenda for the evening. There’s no use talking about it anymore, the only thing that interests me now is her—her mouth, her breasts, her long taut legs. It’s my club and I could easily bend her over the table and drive into her, my balls slapping along the back of her thighs, her pussy clenching around me.

The only thing stopping me is that it’s also where she works. It wouldn’t be fair to her, so I must control myself.

But as uncomfortable as it promises to make me, I’m not ready to end this heated flirtation. So I don’t. “Let’s table my proposition to hire you for a moment and discuss this other thing further. Please understand that they are very separate from each other. I’d never want you to think my sexual desire for you was in any way part of a sham for my parents and their friends.”

“I’m—I don’t know how to react to someone stating they desire me.” She’s flustered. Surprised.

I’m at a loss. I frown. “Has no man told you that before?” Surely she knows how attractive she is. Her beauty goes beyond her physical looks—it’s her aura, her carriage, the way her eyes shine and the way her forehead creases with worry. She is a combination of strong and weak—like a beautiful vase that has been shattered and glued back together so perfectly that you can only see the cracks when looking very closely. She epitomizes the rising of the phoenix from the ashes. Many a man must have burned up in her presence.

She fumbles with her glass. “Not in so many words. Actions sometimes. Certainly not so bluntly.”

I almost curse at her admission. “That’s a shame.” How has no one recognized the preciousness of the gem before me? She doesn’t recognize it in herself, even. It’s disappointing. Heartbreaking, if I were the type who had a heart.

Without meaning to, I find myself reaching across the table for her hand. I stroke my thumb across her unbearably soft skin. “I plan to tell you every chance I get.”

Now where the hell did that come from? But no sooner are the words out of my mouth than I know they’re true. I’m breaking all my rules with this woman, acting outside my very nature. Maybe other men have survived her flames, but I fear I’m already burning.

She pulls her hand away. “Oh.”

I see the wheels turning in her head. She’s retreating. Fast. “I, uh, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. I need to go. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

She stands and I do too. I don’t want her to leave. My pulse speeds up and there’s sweat on my brow. Is this panic? It’s an unfamiliar sensation, and I feel like I’m spiraling out of control.

I practically plead to Alayna to stay. “I wish you wouldn’t. But if you must…”

She won’t meet my eyes. “I’ve got to get to work.”

She heads for the door, and I follow. Just as she places her hand on the knob, I press my palm on the top, preventing her from opening it. This is not in my script. This is not on my agenda. All I know is that I cannot let her leave.

I lower my head to her ear and it takes all I have not to nibble on her lobe. “Wait, Alayna.” My cock stiffens as I breathe her in. Her scent is shampoo and bodywash and sweet musk—none of those flowery perfumes cover up her natural aroma.

Without premeditation, I speak, letting the words flow naturally. “I apologize for overwhelming you. That wasn’t my intent. But I want you to know that whether or not you decide to help with my situation, I will continue to seduce you. I’m a man who gets what he wants. And I want you.”

Then I can’t help myself anymore—I do nibble on her ear. She gasps and leans her head to the side. With her neck exposed, I am a kid in a candy store. I nip and lick along her neck. She grabs my arm and that’s my invitation to wrap my other arm around her. I palm her breast. She leans into my hand, and I feel her nipple pebble through her dress. All I can think about is sucking on it, pulling it with my teeth.

I squeeze her tit and nuzzle my face into her hair. “I should have told you earlier—you look absolutely beautiful tonight. I can’t keep my eyes off you. Serious and sexy wrapped into one package.” This isn’t the most appropriate place for this, but I can’t fucking stand to wait another minute longer. “Kiss me, Alayna.”

Slowly, she turns her head toward me. I’m there to meet her. I take her mouth with mine, sliding my tongue in to tangle with hers. Her lips are soft and silky, but she meets my greedy ardor with equal fervor. I’m demanding, needing her to understand that this is how it will be with me—I will take the lead, I will dominate. Even when I’m as out-of-control as I am at the moment, I will guide us through the physical.

And her taste…

It’s incredible. It’s addictive. It’s delicious.

I want to taste her everywhere. Want to trail my tongue along her navel. Want to suck on her clit. Want to lick the slit of her cunt.

We shift together, turning until our bodies are lined up. I grab her ass, drawing her closer, and she wraps her hands around my neck. God, I want her. I want her like I’ve never wanted anyone. I know I can’t take her here, and yet I’m not sure I can stop. Especially when she starts grinding her hips against my cock. She’s the matador waving the red flag, and I’m the bull about to charge.

But nothing about this is right. The location, the timing…most of all, the circumstances. This night is about the game. I don’t want the taint of that overshadowing the glory of being buried inside her. Celia does not get an invitation into our bed.

Thoughts of Celia make it easier to push Alayna away. I keep my hands on her shoulders, though, keeping her at a distance. It would take only the brush of her body against mine and I’d change my mind about fucking her right now. We pant in unison as we recover our breathing, my eyes never leaving hers.

I see it when the disappointment and concern settle in. Wanting to ease her, I brush a hand down her cheek. “Not here, precious. Not like this.” I wrap my other hand around her neck and press my forehead to hers. “I will have you beneath me. In a bed. Where I can adore you properly.” This promise is the only thing keeping me gentlemanly. I won’t have her tonight. But I will have her.

I trail my hand down to her bra where I know she keeps her phone. I feast on the curve of her breast as I remove her cell. I swipe her screen and call my own phone. I hang up as soon as it rings. I already have her number, of course, but I want her to see that I’ve gotten it legitimately. “Now we have each other’s numbers. I expect you to use it.”

I replace her phone inside her bra, my eyes lingering once more on the swell of her cleavage. My dick is so hard it hurts. It’s a risk kissing her again, so I simply brush my lips across hers. “Call me when you’re ready.” Except I’m afraid she won’t be ready as soon as I’d like, so I add, “Tomorrow.”

I kiss her chastely and rush out. I will definitely need a turn with my hand tonight. Even two turns may not be enough to relieve me.