Page 98 of Force a Date

Hudson’s brows rise. “You mean to tell me you can cook?”

“Yeah.”

His large frame slides off the edge of the bed where he was sitting before towering over me in this delicious, menacing way that makes my skin break out in a hive of goosebumps.

It doesn’t help that he’s shirtless. His black ink ripples across his tan skin, causing every single one of his muscles to pop.

“You gonna cook for me, Opie?” His voice is this deep and rich promise to rip my heart out of my chest and lock it up in a box in his garage.

I’m fully aware that it’s not a thought in his mind, but he really doesn’t know what he does to me. I’ve had this man take me and felt like Jell-O in a bowl after he was done. I’ve never slept so well in my life.

“I can,” I mutter, lifting my chin so that I can be polite and hide the fact that I’m trembling inside.

I’m getting too deep.

My disadvantage is that women typically lead with emotion and I feel as though I jumped into the deep end without my unicorn floaty.

“Tonight?”

He wants to see me again already?

I can’t help but think if he’s complained about hitting his head at work or if he’s suffered any headaches, but Hudson isn’t the type who’d complain about pain.

I’m just confused.

No, you’re just in denial.

No, I’m being completely practical. Hudson is bound to get tired of me and find someone more on his level. As much as I’d love to say I can go toe to toe with him, I’m reminded of our age gap quite often. Especially when I see women in their thirties talk to him with sheer confidence and have more to speak about other than the weather.

Hudson always shows no sign of being interested.

But there’s nothing special about me to lock him down permanently and forget about all of it.

“I have a date,” I blurt out then realize how badly that sounded. Especially when the slight playfulness of Hudson’s expression turns murderous. “With Netflix.”

“You can watch it over here,” he offers, reaching for my wrist and putting the forkful of my breakfast in his mouth. Hudson purposely slides the fork out from his lips in slow-ass motion and my nipples tighten at how fucking sexy he is. “And are you almost done yet, because I’m starving.”

“Why didn’t you make yourself some?”

“Because I can’t round up a bunch of ingredients and cook you in a pot, Opie,” he divulges, and my breathing gives.

He’s going to absolutely kill me.

“Besides,” he continues. “Don’t you wanna give the boys some reprieve today from my attitude? Eating your pussy is going to put me in a really good mood.”

The color red meets my face.

I couldn’t eat any more if I tried. My brain has already warped into hyperdrive with his face buried between my legs as I ride his face since he wants it so bad.

“You…” I force my lungs to suck in some well-needed oxygen before continuing. “You’re a fuckin’ tease, Hudson.”

His green irises don’t let up when he replies confidently, “I wasn’t teasing.”

“I really can’t come over tonight,” I retort, hoping it makes the hungered expression on his face lighten a bit for my own physical well-being.

It doesn’t.

“Only more reason for you to come on my face this morning, don’t ya think?”

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