Shadow of Perception Read Online Free Page B

thuggish in a tattered charcoal gray thermal shirt, low-riding jeans and black Doc Marten boots. The whole badass biker look shouldn’t have appealed to her, but Hudson owned it and wore it well.  
    When he said something she couldn’t hear to John, she glanced at his mouth, then immediately regretted it. Lust slammed into her belly as wicked memories of what his firm lips had done to her surfaced. Those unwanted memories collided into a kaleidoscope of naked skin, harsh moans and multiple orgasms. Even now, she swore she could still feel his rough hands urging her hips, spreading her legs, gripping her bottom. Could imagine his mouth on hers, or better yet, between her thighs.
    “Then you two know each other?” John asked.
    “You can say that,” Hudson replied with a smile. A smug, satisfying smile that snapped her out of her sexual spell and reminded her exactly why breaking things off with him had been the right decision. Her body might not have thought so at the time, and those urges to have him in her bed right now might still be strong, but her head knew better. Hudson was an arrogant jerk who exuded less emotion than she did.  
    After she’d slipped on her coat, Celeste squeezed her hand. “Think about what I said. If I can help—”
    She tore her gaze from Hudson’s and looked to her sister. “I’ll call you. For lunch,” she added to make her stance regarding the psychic reading crystal clear.
    With a tired smile, Celeste nodded, then she and John left the townhouse. Hudson followed them out to the front stoop, giving her a chance to gain some composure.  
    First she’d find out what Hudson had to say on Ian’s behalf, then she’d kick his ass out the door. She wouldn’t have to tiptoe around him like she had with her sister and John. Niceties weren’t necessary with Hudson. He’d never expected them and besides, she’d given up playing nice the night he’d treated her as if she were a rotten, spoiled brat. The fact that they’d had sex only hours before didn’t help his cause, either.  
    “Callous, crass bastard,” she said as she finished cleaning the kitchen.
    “And who might that be?”
    She jumped, splashing running water over the sleeves of her sweatshirt. Swearing under her breath, she shut off the water and reached for a towel. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
    “Don’t avoid the question. Am I the callous, crass bastard? ‘Cause if that’s the case, then that makes me think you’re still mad at me.”
    She shrugged. “I’d have to care, which I don’t.”
    The corner of his mouth slid up in a slow smirk. “Suppose not, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ever did.” He gave her a once over. “You look pretty good.”
    Pretty good? Had she known Ian planned to send Hudson tonight, she would have made sure she’d looked damn good. She might not want anything to do with him—relationship wise—but no woman wants an ex-whatever to see them at their worst, either. “And you look as if you’re a front for some eighties big hair band,” she shot back with a raised brow, quite proud of her comeback even if it was immature.
    His smirk slid into a sexy smile. “Then that explains all those hot groupies following me around and throwing their g-strings at me.”
    “You wish,” she said, and dropped the kitchen towel on the counter. “Look, I’ve had a bad day. Let’s put aside all the bullshit baggage and get to the point of why you’re here.”
    “Good enough,” he said, and headed into the living room. He plopped himself on the center of the couch, forcing her to sit on the oversized chair in the corner. “Did you watch the entire DVD?”
    She shuddered and hugged herself. “Unfortunately.”
    “Why call Ian and not the cops?”
    “There was a note with the DVD that said no police.”
    “What about that homicide detective, Mallory? Are you still chummy with him?”
    She rubbed the back of her neck. Until today, Bob Mallory had not only been her source