Page 80 of Lucky Laces
“I’m definitely going to make you mad, Huddy.”
He’s still.Then he grins.“Let’s go inside.”
And he doesn’t delay, drawing me into the house, slamming and locking the door, pinning me back against the wooden panel.
His lips find mine, his hand drags my shirt up, pressing against the bare skin of my back.
And sweet baby Jesus, the man can kiss.
It’s hot.It’s wet.It’s deep and has plenty of tongue—so much tongue that I almost forget what I promised myself earlier.
So much that it takes every bit of control I possess in order to catch his hand when he slips his fingertips beneath the waistband of my sweats, to pull them free.“No,” I say.
“Right,” he mutters.“The window on the door.”He starts to tug me down the hall.“Bedroom.”
The bedroom sounds perfect.
It’s exactly where I want to spend the next six hours.
Only…he’s limping.
His leg.
The fucking stitches.
I dig in my feet, draw him to a halt—not an easy proposition when he doesn’t want to be halted.“No,” I say again, tugging firmly, getting him to stop, to look at me.“Your leg.”
“It’s fine.”
Those gray eyes blazing with need.
Calling to the same need boiling through my veins.
It would be so easy to give in.
But…I can’t hurt him again.
“No, honey,” I say when he moves again.“Ican’t.”
He stills.
“Not until your leg is healed,” I whisper.“Please don’t make me the one responsible for hurting you?—”
“It would be my decision?—”
“Please, Hudson.”
He holds my eyes for a long moment.
Then he sighs.“Okay, sweetheart.”
“Okay?”I expected more fight.
Expected him to push, to demand.
Instead…he gives.
And I…
