Page 28 of Dump Tackle My Heart
Big mistake.
Because here I am.
Flat on my back, pinned to a cozy-ass mountain cabin bed by six and a half feet of heated, hard, hungry man.
Tank’s mouth is on me.
His hands, too.
He. Is. Everywhere.
And my entire body is singing a song of surrender.
His voice is gravel and silk all at once as he breathes against my neck, “Fuck, Dani, I want to make you come. I need to see you come. You’ll let me touch you, won’t you, Sweetheart? Let me make you feel good?”
Oh God.
I’m so hot and wet I could cry.
My nipples are tight and aching, and there’s this pulsing between my legs that’s only getting worse the longer he teases me.
I nod like a woman possessed.
“Yes, Hudson, please. I want that too.”
His lips ghost over mine, and when I lean up for more, he pulls just enough away to whisper, “Please what? What do you want?”
I could die.
I could absolutely combust.
Because this is Hudson.
Not just some random hookup.
And the way he’s looking at me? Like I’m made of starlight and sex and fucking magic?
Well, it makes me feel brave. Seen. Wanted. And sexier than I’ve ever felt in my life.
“I want you to touch me, Hudson,” I whisper, breathless.
He raises a dark brow.
“I am touching you.”
His fingers skate down my thighs, grazing the delicate lace edge of my panties.
“But you gotta tell me where, Sweetheart.”
Teasing bastard.
My whole body arches, begging.
“No. I mean—really touch me. Stop playing.”
“Where?” he asks, voice thick with need. “Use your words.”
I swallow. My face heats. But I say it.
