Page 34 of Engaging with Her Enemy

She began to unbutton her blue jeans, working them off her hips in record time. She reached for her panties. He held up his hand. “Stop.” He walked to the front door and made sure it was locked before flipping off the lights. He wanted to see her. Her amazing body. Those soft curves he’d imagined for years.

But he wouldn’t show her his leg. She had a habit of asking a million questions and getting them off topic. Seeing the pity in her eyes when she saw him without his prosthetic was even worse. Neither were part of his plans.

He returned to the bed and sat down beside her. In the dark, he detached his prosthetic and set it beside the bed. She sat up behind him, trailing her lips along the muscles across his shoulder, pressing her topless body to his back.

“We’re doing this, right? You’re not going to back out on me?”

He chuckled and turned. He snagged the side of her panties with a finger, tugging them down as she laid back. “Don’t worry about that.”

Memorizing every inch, he ran his hand along her silken skin, from her hip to the dip in her waist to her breasts. Her curves were perfect.

Curves he’d spend hours learning if the situation was different. But her body arched as she stretched with each touch.

Becky gripped his hair tight, holding him in place for another long, wild kiss. Neither one of them seemed inclined to go slow.

“You smell like cupcakes.” He cupped her ass and pulled her tight against him. “I swear you were made for me, Becky.” It sounded a little dark. Obsessive. Maybe it was. He loved her and would let her know it.

She slipped her hand underneath the waistband of his shorts. “You said the second part of this was you being naked.” She sat up and took off his shorts. In the dimness of the room, he studied her gaze.

It lingered for a moment on his leg before she crawled back on top of him. Thankfully, she didn’t unleash the dozens of questions he knew zipped through her mind.

Because when her hand wrapped around him, and she straddled across his lap, guiding him in, his mind exploded.

This woman was his.

* * *

The bed sagged beside her.Hudson. She’d noticed when he left the bed the first time but refrained from saying anything. Her heart was still a tangled-up mess after last night. Because as much as she wanted to laugh off the notion that she reciprocated his declaration of love, she couldn’t. Last night, she swore she loved him. Now, she didn’t know what she felt.

Or worse, she knew what she felt but didn’t know what to do about it. It shouldn’t be complicated. Yes, he lived in Atlanta and her in Statem, but that wasn’t the problem. Deep down, underneath the weight of the desire and friendship, were wounds that still made her trust in him hesitant. No matter how many times she’d told herself that he wasn’t eighteen, that he wouldn’t run around telling everyone in Statem her problems, it still nagged at her.

“Becky.” He rubbed her back. “I have to go to work.”

She cussed through the comforter pulled over her head. He pushed it away from her face. She tried to give him her typical annoyed look. But failed. Horribly.

The love he’d mentioned was right there in the way he looked at her. Part of her wanted to fight against it, but the other part wanted to soak in it. Because Hudson was a great guy.

He loved her. It wasn’t a moment said in passion or lust. The way he’d told her was almost like he could finally take a deep breath of air.

She’d never forget it.

“Can't you stay.” She tugged on his shoulders, pulling him down to the bed, wanting to relive last night. “Ten minutes.” She nipped on his ear. “Better make it twenty.” She didn’t have enough time to enjoy him before.

He slipped his hand under the covers, her bare thigh under his T-shirt dragged a moan from his throat.

“I need to go to work.”

“Thirty,” she offered.

“I can't.” But he stayed there, his hands gliding up and down the side of her body until it buzzed with needs and wants that she’d ignored before. Now that she experienced that release, there was no stuffing them back inside. She wanted him and planned to have him.

She began to untuck his shirt. “I thought you were the boss. You make the rules.”

“And I'd give my guys hell if they were late because they decided to stay a little longer in bed with a woman. I can't break the rules just because I'm in charge.”

Becky didn’t believe that for a moment. “Tell them you had a flat tire.”

“They'd see my truck when I pulled up.”

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