5. Moody

5

MOODY

T o be clear, I was not in the habit of initiating sexual encounters. Ever. Not my style.

I was more likely to flirt badly with a man I found attractive and subtly encourage him to do the seducing. For example, I might accidentally bump knees with a stranger at the bar and if he kept his knee in place, I might touch said knee while doing some embarrassing coquettish move that involved fluttering eyelashes and insipid smiles.

Don’t judge. Clichéd maneuvers might seem uninspired and unoriginal, but they worked like a charm. If you lived in robust metropolises, that is.

Sadly, desire and opportunity had not been on the menu lately. I lived in Christmas Town, for Pete’s sake. The pickings were slim to nonexistent.

The last time I’d had sex with an actual human male was—well, I couldn’t remember the exact date, but it had been a while…as in two years or more. I was a horny, horny boy, and the bisexual cowboy who’d showed up out of the blue was like a mirage in a desert. Hudson was a tall glass of cool water, and I was so darn thirsty.

Was this smart? Uncertain.

If Hudson was who he claimed to be—single, emotionally unavailable, and mildly interested in me—who was I to complain? We could discuss his foolish ex and if things went well, he could show me his large cock.

I didn’t know what to think about him potentially moving to the area. But maybe that didn’t matter. The ranch was twenty minutes away from town. There were wineries and rolling hills and swerving, narrow roads in between. Personally, I rarely drove north, so I’d never see him again.

For real, this time.

I parked in the visitor lot, swiped my sweaty palms on my khakis, and fussed with the top button on my blue oxford shirt. Relax.

Easier said than done. I spotted Hudson at the entrance to the hotel lobby, and my heart did its darnedest to jump into my throat.

Geez, he was too handsome.

He hadn’t worn his cowboy hat tonight. His hair was longer and wavier than I’d thought, his eyes were bluer, and his dimples were drop-dead darling. And don’t get me started on his form-fitted black V-neck sweater. Gorgeous.

I highly doubted I was his type, though. I mean…just look at me. I was an unrepentant geek, and Hudson was a stunning masculine beefcake. He’d probably been too shocked by my bold overture to let me down gently. I suspected he was prepared to send me on my merry way after spilling his guts about his ex, then give a brief, “Let’s not ruin a budding friendship with sex” chat.

In fact, that was absolutely what he’d do, and who could blame him?

Not me, that was for darn sure.

I mustered the dregs of my fast-waning courage, pasted a smile on my face, and strode toward the lobby. “Good evening, sir.”

Hudson grinned, all flashing white teeth and crinkling eyes. Super gorgeous.

“Good evening. My room is this way.”

He ushered me through the lobby, passing the elevators and the massive flower arrangement of lilies and roses under a gargantuan crystal chandelier. We walked along a wide corridor with jewel-toned carpet and lit with fancy sconces and entered a separate wing.

Hudson tapped a key card to the panel and opened the door with a flourish. And my jaw dropped.

Cartoon character style…on the floor…dropped.

I gasped, abandoning any semblance of cool as I moved to the bank of windows and the panoramic view of the full moon shining a spotlight on the Pacific Ocean.

“This is incredible, like the world’s biggest stage lit with twinkling stars. It must be magnificent in daylight.”

“It is,” Hudson agreed, turning on the lamp next to the sofa.

I pivoted on my heels, shaking my head in wonder at the opulent furnishings and the sheer size of the suite—which, quite honestly, rivaled the square footage of my entire cottage.

“This is the honeymoon suite,” I stated.

“Yep.” He brushed his hands together and pointed at the well-stocked bar in the corner of the room. “Just water?”

“Yes, please.”

“You got it. Make yourself comfortable.” Hudson poured himself a cocktail of some kind and handed me a water bottle, raising his glass in a toast before sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. “Cheers.”

I uncapped the bottle, took a sip, and launched into nervous chatter mode.

“I worked for a guy who lived in a penthouse on the Upper East Side. He had a few of us over for a holiday soiree, and I’d thought I’d never seen such a glamourous home. It wasn’t a mansion with acres of land, a pool, stables, and private bowling alley, though if I’m not mistaken, he owned all that in New Jersey, too. But he did have a Central Park view, cathedral-high ceilings, and everything dripped with crystal and glittered with gold. I was twenty-five at the time. I couldn’t believe people really lived like that. Especially since I shared an apartment in Bushwick with two strangers in a five-story walk-up. I’d been suitably impressed, but this is…truly something special.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“ Ugh ! What was wrong with her?”

“Kylie left me for her yoga instructor,” Hudson replied, looking decidedly unbothered.

“No!”

“’Fraid so. We didn’t tell our friends and family that, of course. I wasn’t supposed to know there was another man, but I found out about him after the dust settled. The official statement was that we’d decided to put a temporary hold on our nuptials. ‘Apologies for the inconvenience, and thanks to all for supporting us and for respecting our privacy.’ ” He huffed derisively. “My mom flipped her lid. My whole family did. But I stuck to the script. The real story was…sad. She just wasn’t in love with me, and the closer the date came along, the more unhappy she was. And the more evident it was that there was someone else. I could feel it, but I didn’t know how to talk to her about feelings. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. We were the couple who’d dated for two years, saw a bunch of friends gettin’ hitched, and figured it was our turn. I proposed, she said yes, and we spent another year and a half planning a huge wedding with three hundred guests.”

“Three hundred?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe the budget. It was insane. Her parents were footing the bill for most of it, but the honeymoon was all me. Kylie wanted a beachy adventure, and this was where it was going to start. We were supposed to jet to Hawaii from here, but thankfully, I was able to cancel that part with minimal damage. So…here I am, a year and some change later.” Hudson gave a self-deprecating shrug and sipped his drink.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, unable to think of anything constructive that didn’t sound like a useless platitude.

“I’m not. I’m not sorry at all. Don’t get me wrong—I was at first. I was hurt and confused and all that, but Kylie was right. We didn’t have it. All we talked about was the wedding. I was busy at the ranch, she was busy at work. Hell, I didn’t even know she took yoga. We weren’t growing in the same direction, and that was before the ‘I dos.’ I’m grateful as hell she recognized it. No one wants to be with someone who doesn’t love them. No one wants to be a habit or a lifetime regret. I’d much rather be the guy who got dumped.”

“You’re a wise man. I commend you, good sir.”

Hudson snickered. “Thanks. And for the record, I’d originally decided to take this trip for the sake of closure, but now…it’s business too. More of a reconnaissance stakeout than anything.”

“Understood. One more question.” I ran my fingers along the fringe of the silk pillow next to me on the sofa and pointed at the modern chandelier over the dining table nearby. “Is this level of opulence the norm for you?”

“God, no. I have a condo a mile from the ranch. Two bedrooms, one bath, boring beige carpet, and a kitchen that could probably use a facelift. Anti-opulence at its best.”

“Great.” I sipped my water, recapped the bottle, and set it on the coffee table. “Well, you can show me your penis now.”

I had a feeling my candor surprised him. Hudson went still for a beat, and then his shoulders shook. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or in the midst of a choking fit.

He held up a hand in surrender and sucked in a gulp of air. “You’re very…”

“Forthright? I know. It’s a blessing and a curse. I either keep everything inside or…” I made an expansive hand motion. “I put it all out there.”

“Good to know.” He sipped his cocktail, grinning at me over the rim of his glass. “Let’s hold off on the penis show-and-tell for a bit. Why don’t you tell me about your love of books? Romance, specifically. What do you like about them?”

“Happy endings. Both kinds.”

Hudson slapped his knee as he choked down his drink. “Jesus, Moody.”

“What? I’m a horny, red-blooded man. I like sex. That’s not interesting…it’s biology.” More chuckling. “Why is that funny?”

“I’m just not used to so much honesty. I like it.”

“Thanks.” I beamed. “I read other things too, but romance is a lovely escape from reality. You’re going to love that second book with Maverick and Ted. Super swoony.”

“ Hmm . What’s your favorite scene? Do you have one?”

“Of course, but I don’t want to spoil it for you.”

“No, it’s fine. I have contracts to read now. I’m not sure when I’ll get to the next book. So…go for it,” he urged.

“Well, if you insist. There’s a scene where they’re in the barn, chatting about horse things and one of them…Ted, I think, stops and says, ‘I thought about you all day.’ Just that.” I fluttered my eyelashes. “So romantic.”

“O-kay…”

“And spicy. In the same scene, Ted pulls Maverick between his open thighs and undoes his belt and zipper while he kisses him. Next thing you know, Maverick has his jeans around his knees, his pecker is flying like a flag at full mast, and yet…there’s so much tenderness. Soon after, Ted bends him over yet another bale of hay and well…you can probably guess how that ends.”

“Happily?” Hudson suggested with a roguish gleam.

“Yes.”

He stood slowly. “C’mere.”

I obeyed. I had questions…of course I did, but now wasn’t the time. Something in the air had changed. Idle conversation had given way to possibility and desire. I didn’t know Hudson well at all, but I trusted him. And yes, I was extraordinarily attracted to him.

I rested my hand on his shoulder, my gaze locked on his. “Now what?”

“You wanted a good look at my dick. Go on…help yourself. Undo my belt, Moody.”

Oh, gosh…oh, wow.

I licked my lips, nodded, and immediately got to work. I threaded the leather strap, unbuckled his belt, and reached for his zipper. “May I?”

“Be my guest,” he purred.

His zipper grinding along the narrow strip of metal echoed in the room. I pushed the denim open, brushing my thumbs along his cotton-clad erection. I was salivating. For real. And I wasn’t sure where to look—his cock, his eyes, my cock? Everything needed attention, stat.

“I hate to seem forward. However, in order to properly judge length and girth, I’ll need to remove your?—”

Hudson hooked his fingers under the elastic of his boxer briefs and lowered them. His engorged dick sprang free and bobbed between us.

Oh, yes…it was quite large.

Gosh, I wanted that. I wasn’t sure what he’d let me do, if anything, but I was hoping this might turn into more than a “show-and-tell” moment.

“Big or…very big?” Hudson asked, gripping himself at the base.

His tone was light and jovial. I spared him a distracted grunt and licked my lips. “Very big, but not excessive.”

Another low rumble. “You can touch, if you want.”

“I want,” I rasped.

I hovered my hand for a moment, tracing the jagged vein from his balls to his tip. His hum of pleasure spurred me on. I gathered his precum with the pad of my thumb and spread it over the head with lazy circles.

“ Mm , that’s nice. Tighten your grip. That’s it. Good boy.”

Oh, my. He was playing with fire now. I adjusted my glasses and as clandestinely as possible, adjusted my poor aching penis before doing as he said, stroking him in a firm hold. I used his precum as lubricant and made a meal out of gliding my hand up and down, up and down.

“Is this all right?”

“Very fucking good. Let me see you too.” Hudson had my belt undone, khakis unzipped and pooled at my feet, and my boxer briefs over my derriere in seconds flat. He kneaded my cheeks, feathering a digit along my crack and finally closing his fist around my cock.

“ Ungh !”

I squeezed my eyes shut, leaning into his touch as he stroked me…just right. Every twist of his wrist and long pull elicited a moan of pleasure. It was slightly embarrassing, but I was too turned-on to curb my enthusiasm.

I matched the rhythm he set, jacking him in steady thrusts, breathing in when he breathed out. My knees buckled under the growing onslaught of desire. Hudson put his free hand on my hip as I teetered forward. Our noses brushed, and our lips were now less than an inch apart.

“I’m gonna kiss you, Moody.”

“Yes.”

He fused his mouth to mine, tilting his chin as he drove his tongue between my lips.

I was now officially on the verge of combustion. I tugged at his neck and deepened the connection. We were consumed in a tangle of tongues, nibbling lips, and furtive stroking. It was so good, but I needed to be closer.

I hiked my left leg over his…or attempted to. My feet were trapped in my khakis. I lost my balance and knocked Hudson onto the sofa, nearly toppling onto the floor. Perhaps that should have taken some of the wind out of our sails, but um…no. The momentum shift launched us into a new sphere of horny humping.

We released our cocks in favor of rutting like animals. Hudson cupped my ass cheeks to hold them in place while he pumped his shaft alongside mine and sucked on my tongue. He felt so good and I was so…close.

Too close.

I whimpered, frantically breaking the kiss.

“You’re gonna come,” he guessed. “Yeah, do it. Come for me. I got you.”

That was all it took. I fell apart quite spectacularly, spurting cum on his cock and balls…and possibly the hem of his sweater. He kneaded my flesh as I trembled and shook in the aftermath. And he kissed me—long, sweet pulls of his tongue that were almost tender. I melted in his arms, making love to his mouth as I slowly morphed into a puddle of goo.

And yes, it was a testament to how out of practice I was that I didn’t immediately realize that the poor guy still had a gigantic boner.

I scrambled off him, wincing when my knee hit the floor with a thump. “Ow.”

“Where’d you go?” Hudson sat up with a laugh, his erection still pointing proudly at the ceiling. And just like that, I knew what to do. I reached for him and shoved my head in his lap. “You don’t have to—oh, fuck. Oh, yeah. That’s it.”

Now, I admit, I was rusty at the art of fellatio. And yes, I considered it an art. There was a difference between sloppy sucking and knowing how to apply the right amount of pressure to stimulate a lover and?—

Okay, fine. I sucked him like a gosh-darn Hoover. I wouldn’t claim it was my best work…not by a long shot, but he seemed pleased.

Hudson held my head in his hands and lifted his hips in a silent request for more. I complied, bobbing double time till he yanked at my hair in warning. I ignored him and seconds later, I was rewarded.

I swallowed everything he gave me, then sat on my heels and wiped the corner of my mouth. Hudson’s chest heaved as he leaned forward and grabbed my chin, thrusting his tongue inside.

It was nasty and crude, and that was before I remembered the window shades were open and anyone on a boat with a pair of powerful binoculars could see us.

This was…so naughty. And so liberating.

“What a terrible idea this was. I loved it,” I gushed, hopping to my feet and grabbing a napkin from the side table to wipe the mess we’d made.

Hudson chuckled. “Me too. I—where are you going?”

“Home.”

He frowned. “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Okay. Um…” Hudson struggled to sit up. “I’m busy all day tomorrow, but I’ll see you next time I’m in town. If that’s cool.”

I inclined my chin. “Yes, of course.”

“Great. I think I’ll be back in December too, and?—”

“No.”

“No?”

I redressed, straightening my soiled shirt as I shook my head. “No, I’m not at my best in December, but perhaps January.”

“January,” he repeated, zipping his jeans.

I smiled. “That’s correct. If you don’t return to California or you do come and decide not to visit me, I’ll understand. I want to thank you most earnestly for your…I suppose we’ll call it friendship. Hospitality works too. You’re a good man, Hudson Babineaux. I wish you a happy and healthful?—”

“What if I’m here in December?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Let’s hope our paths don’t cross. Now, as my Spanish friends say, ‘ Adios, amigo .’”

And with that, I opened the door, tripped over the threshold, and almost took out the housekeeper standing nearby with fresh towels for turn-down service. I apologized profusely, braving one last glance at Hudson leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed, looking deliciously disheveled and utterly dreamy.

I allowed myself the briefest moment of longing.

If Christmas were real, I’d ask Santa for a Hudson-sized gift, no ribbons required. But I knew better than most that real life didn’t care about the date on a calendar.