Fixed on You Read Free Page B

eldest son, he’d expanded the Pierce wealth tenfold. As a business
student I’d been intrigued with a number of his dealings.
    “You know I’m not into all that
Who’s Who bullshit.” Liesl straightened to her full five-foot-ten plus three-inch
heels height. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on the Top Ten of, like,
every Hottest-slash-Sexiest-slash-Most-Beautiful list in the world.”
    I bit my lip trying to conjure up
an image of him in my head. I’d probably seen a picture of him somewhere, but I
couldn’t for the life of me remember what he looked like. I generally didn’t
pay attention to those things. But something tugged at the edges of my brain,
something I couldn’t quite grasp. A connection my mind was failing to make.
     “Anyway,” Liesl said, leaning
back against the counter, “I think he’s around. I saw him go into the offices
earlier when you were grabbing napkins from storage.”
    I nodded, not sure if I was
thrilled to meet Hudson Pierce or not. Part of me wanted to fan girl all over
one or two of his more famous corporate decisions. And bouncing ideas off of
him could be thrilling.
    Or terrifying. What if I had
nothing to suggest that he hadn’t already thought of? Hudson Pierce didn’t need
my lame ideas to help him make the club thrive.
    Unless he wasn’t planning to be
involved with the business.
    But why would he buy the club if
he didn’t intend on being involved? In which case…
    Crap. Before my visions of the
future I desired went poof in my overactive imagination, I needed to meet
Pierce and feel him out, whether I was intimidated or not.
    I took several inconspicuous
calming breaths then returned my focus to stocking the bar. Concentrating on my
task, I pulsed absentmindedly to the techno strains that streamed over the
sound system and let go of all my worries.
    The music wasn’t on normal
business volume—we could talk comfortably without raising our voices—but it was
loud enough that I didn’t hear the office door open to the left of the bar.
That’s why I didn’t notice Hudson at first. My back was to him and my gaze
fixed above me as I reached for the Tequila Gold on the upper bar shelf. Even
after I’d retrieved the bottle and turned around, my eyes first found David’s.
He scanned me from head to toe and I smiled, pleased that my tightly fitted
corset hadn’t gone unnoticed. He was the reason I’d worn the damn thing. I
could barely breathe under its vice-like grip. But for the searing look he gave
me, it was worth it, heating me to low simmer in the arousal department.
    Then I met Hudson’s stare and two
things happened simultaneously. First, my arousal went full boil. Second, my
brain finally made the connection it had missed before. Hudson Pierce was the
suit.
    Without meaning to, I scanned his
body. The full view of him was even hotter, especially in the better lighting.
Again he wore a suit, two-piece this time, a light gray that I’d almost call
silver. It fit his lean body in such a sexual way that it felt obscene to look
at him.
    When my eyes made it to his face—his
strong jaw, even more pronounced than I’d remembered, begging to be licked and
kissed and nibbled—I found he was checking me out as well. The knowledge of
this made my already warm face flush deeper. Though his gaze wasn’t as intense
as it had been when I’d first met him, his pull was just as strong, and I knew—absolutely
unequivocally knew —that he desired me as much as I desired him.
    David spoke first, his words coming
at me through a haze, barely registering. “This is Laynie.” I suspected his
eyes hadn’t left my bosom. “Um, Alayna Withers, I mean.” Normally I’d be
ecstatic that I had him so mixed-up and that his pants were visibly straining,
but I was thrown by the new owner. More precisely, by how insanely he affected
me.
    “Hudson Pierce.” Hudson’s smooth,
low murmur had me clenching my thighs together, my panties pooling with
moisture. And if