13. Hudson
Chapter 13
Hudson
“ A re you hungry?” I ask after we’ve caught our breath.
Giselle knocks back the last of the water from the glass we’ve been sharing and nods silently.
She’s been oddly quiet since we cleaned up.
“Come on.” I tap her hand resting on my chest. “I’ll whip us something up to eat.”
Sliding out of bed, I hiss through my teeth at the rush of cold air kissing my body. It’s practically teeth chattering.
“It’s fucking freezing out here,” I say through gritted teeth, tucking my hands under my arms. I glance back over my shoulder to find Giselle still lounging about in her bed, hair spread out over the indented pillow I’d been lying on only second ago. I notice the large t-shirt she slipped back over her head after the heat of her orgasm had cooled down on her skin, has fallen down past her shoulder, leaving her collarbone exposed.
I have the ridiculous urge to turn back around, plant my hands on either side of her tight body and kiss her fucking senseless again.
But I don’t.
There’s a distinct bubble of space between us now, something wedged in the middle, and I don’t know how to go about broaching the space, let alone breaking it apart.
No matter how much I want to. No matter how much my semi hard cock is protesting, growing thick against my thigh at the idea of round two.
“It costs too much money to put the heating on,” she replies softly.
I don’t say anything back to her, I can’t. I’ve never had to worry about how much it costs to run the heating. Even now that I live alone, I know if I ever needed help paying the bills my parents would both be offering up a comfortable lump sum.
Instead, I take two steps forward and grab the pink robe hanging off the back of Giselle’s bedroom door.
I piss, flush, wash my hands, rinse my mouth with a capful of minty mouthwash and then slip my arms through the fluffy sleeves, securing the belt around my waist.
When I pad back into the kitchen, it’s to find Giselle has already beat me there, the kettle boiling loudly as she reaches into the cupboard above her head to grab two mugs.
I watch, cock kicking in my boxers, as the jumper she’s wrapped herself in, rises higher and higher and higher until the bottom curve of her arse enters my vision.
She’s bare beneath her clothes.
Fucking hell…
I mean, I shouldn’t be shocked, I’m the one who peeled the underwear off her body. But still, seeing her bare arse, while standing in her kitchen, wearing nothing but my boxers and a pink, fluffy robe on my birthday morning, isn’t something I expected to be happening.
Mugs in hand, Giselle pops back down to the soles of her feet and then, as if she can feel the weight of my stare on her body, she glances over her shoulder at me.
For a heartbeat, or two, we stay there; locked in place with a soft stare, but never moving.
Her hair is unbound, she isn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, dressed still in her sleep clothes and still, she’s got be the prettiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
I’m desperate to touch her. How easy it would be to take three steps forward, grip onto those hips of hers, and spin her around until I can tilt her chin upwards and taste her lips like I did back in the bedroom…
Giselle breaks our stare-off first, much to my disappointment, turning away to pour boiling water into two mugs.
Forcing my feet to move over the freezing cold linoleum floor of her kitchen, I graze my hand along her lower back, and rip open the door to her refrigerator.
“You we’re right about not being a breakfast person.” I peer at the shelves, noting the lack of breakfast materials. It’s mainly full of plastic containers of pasta, sandwich meat, milk and… a stray pack of baby carrots.
“I told you so.”
Rolling my eyes at her bratty tone, I straighten and grab the carton of free-range eggs tucked away in the corner of the kitchen counter.
I find a frying pan in another cupboard and begin to make enough scrambled eggs to feed at least four people. Giselle watches me, but stays silent, even as she grabs two plates for us and pops four pieces of bread into the toaster.
With a healthy amount of salt and black pepper sprinkled onto of the fluffy eggs, I carry our plates over to Giselle’s small two-seater table. A half dead vase of flowers sits in the centre, a stack of unopened envelopes, all with Giselle’s name printed on them, beside them.
“Thank you,” I say when Giselle places my freshly brewed cup of tea in front of me.
“You’re welcome.”
She might not usually be the type of person to make time for breakfast, but Giselle digs into her plate of scrambled eggs and toast with vigour. I try, and fail, to convince myself it’s not because of the mind blowing oral I gave her, which has made her work up an appetite. More than once I have to reach down and rearrange myself – my cock straining against my boxers at the sound of her soft pleased groans.
“That was really good, Hudson,” she praises, once she’s cleared her plate, gulping down a mouthful of breakfast tea.
“Glad you think so,” I say, biting off a corner of my toast. “I’m not as good a cook as my brothers, but there’s a few things I can whip up.”
“What’s your favourite thing to cook?”
“If I had to pick… probably steak because it’s my favourite thing to eat. Steak with dauphinoise potatoes and steamed broccoli stems.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“It is, I—” The loud ringtone coming from my phone, hidden somewhere in the depths of my trouser pockets, which I’d taken off last night and left in a crumpled heap on the living room rug before I fell asleep on the sofa, interrupts our conversation. It blares through Giselle’s open plan living and dining area, ringing off the hook until it falls silent and then… picks back up again.
“I should get that.”
Giselle nods. “Go. I need to wash up anyway.”
Yanking my trousers off the floor, I dig deep for my mobile, hitting the green accept button on the screen before I’ve even fully looked at the caller ID.
“Happy birthday, bro.” The voice of one of my older brothers, Grey, greets my ear. “The big two-six. You’re getting old, mate.”
“Piss off.”
“Someone sounds way too grumpy to be the birthday boy,” my brother’s girlfriend, Delilah, laughs in the background. I must be on speakerphone.
“Is it because you couldn’t find a girl to give you a birthday blow—”
“Shut up,” I grit through my teeth, eyes flicking to Giselle’s figure just in case she can hear my idiotic brother. Thankfully, she’s unaware, dipping a sponge into hot soapy water and then running said sponge over our breakfast plates.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Grey continues. “Did I wake you up?”
I bend my knees, sinking down into Giselle’s sofa cushions. “Um… yeah.”
“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all the dickhead. “Can you let us up? We’ve been ringing the buzzer, but I wasn’t sure if it was working after last time—”
“Let you up?”
“Yeah. Aren’t you home? You just said you didn’t score last night, so I’m assuming you’re home. Delilah and I thought it would be nice to all catch the train up to Mum’s together, birthday treat and all.”
“I’m not at mine, mate.”
There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the phoneline which seems to stretch on for an age or two.
“But you said—”
“I never said anything. You assumed, brother.”
“Right. Well…”
“Give me thirty minutes…” I peer back at Giselle, who’s now drying our plates and… fuck me… she bends over, giving me an even better view of her heart shaped arse then I had before. My balls fucking ache. I swear she’s trying to kill me. “Forty if the traffic is bad.”
“There’s a coffee shop down the road,” Delilah utters, voice sounding tinny and far away through the phone line. “We could go get a drink while we wait, babe.”
I hear Grey mutter his agreement to Delilah and then return his attention back to me. “Don’t be late,” he warns, all big brother like. “We don’t want to miss the train, otherwise Mum will pitch a fit. See you, birthday boy.”
“Everything okay?” Giselle calls, watching me end the phone call with a stab of my thumb.
“Yeah… it was just one of my brother’s. He wants me to meet him in half an hour so we can catch the train to Burford together.”
“For your family Sunday dinner?”
I bob my head.
“Oh.” She swallows thickly and then tries to paint a small smile on her face, but I don’t buy it. I can see the way it wobbles, unsure, unnatural. “I’ve got to get going, too. I’m due at work in an hour, so—”
“You’re working on a Sunday?”
“Yep. Just one dance class and couple of meditation classes.”
“Will they be busy?”
She nods. “I think they’re pretty full up today…”
“Sounds like you’re in popular demand. Maybe I should come along, sometime. See what all the fuss is about.”
Giselle nods silently, thumb spinning the plain gold band around and around her middle finger.
That’s not exactly the reaction I was looking for…
“Hudson—”
“Come here,” I ask, completely ignoring the sound of my name frothing from her plush lips. Lips that spit out barbed insults, but I know how sweet they can taste too.
Crossing the space which currently separates us, Giselle stands in between my spread legs, head tilted to look down at me.
“Are we going to talk about it?”
She stays silent.
“Giselle. It’s okay to admit you’re attracted to me. It won’t hurt anyone.”
She blinks, lashes fluttering, while my hands instinctively reach upward to mould around her hips, the tips of my thumbs catching on the hem of her jumper and the warm, soft patch of skin hidden beneath.
“I’ll only ask nicely once. But I need you to tell me the truth.”
Giselle’s words stick in her throat for a second, as she opens her mouth to speak. “W-what do you want me to tell you, Hudson?”
“Admit you’re attracted to me. Come on, Giselle, I know you are, so let me hear you say it.”
Her eyes droop low. “Say please.”
I crook an eyebrow at how throaty her voice sounds. I wonder if I can get her to sound like that when I’m fucking her brains out.
I pause. Swallowing, I feel my Adam’s apple bob. I’m not a gentleman by any means, and Giselle knows that, but my mum didn’t raise me to be unmannered. “Please.”
“Then, yes,” she says without pause. “I’m attracted to you, Hudson.”
A pleased smile pulls at the corners of my lips.
“But—”
“But nothing.” I shrug. “We’re both attracted to each other, Giselle. Can’t we just see where it goes from there?”
“I’d like too, but I-I need to tell you something before we do. It’s important to me, Hudson.”
My fucking ringtone blares again, interrupting us for the second time. I swear, I’m going to throw the thing in the bloody Thames.
“Are you on your way yet?” Grey asks, not even bothering to greet me this phone call. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I double check the time. Shit. I really need to get going if I’m going to make the train on time.
“I won’t be long,” I reply and then disconnect the call.
Squeezing Giselle’s hips, I stand to my full height, so she has to look up at me towering above her.
“What did you need to tell me, Gee?”
“It’s—it’s nothing.” It’s as if her walls are stacking up again, blocking me out. “It’s fine. I know you’re in a rush… we can just… talk later.”
“Are you sure?”
Giselle bobs her head. “Positive. Ring me tonight.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I tuck her into my neck, the palm of my hand smoothing down the back of her head. This close I can see the fast thrum of her pulse beating in her neck. She smells like floral shampoo and the familiar scent of her washing powder.
“I don’t want to leave,” I admit, feeling like a layer of my skin is stripped off, revealing my innards as soon as the raw words spill from my lips. They feel like they burn, piercing the shell I keep wrapped around myself.
Before Giselle can reply, I lay my lips upon hers. I feel vulnerable in a way I can’t recall feeling for a long time, not since Mum was in and out of hospital, and I don’t think I can bear to hear whatever she’s going to say in reply lest she bring me to my knees even further.
God…
I’m in over my head for this girl more than I expected.
Pecking Giselle’s soft lips one last time, I pull away, turning away slightly to grab my clothes from the living room floor. At least this way I get to hide my face for a moment so I can pull myself together.
I dress quickly, handing Giselle her robe back, the scent of my aftershave tainting the collar.
“See you later, then,” I say, taking three steps towards the door to her apartment. After everything we’ve done together yesterday and early this morning… I’m feeling a little bit off balance. This isn’t me. I don’t date, I don’t get in relationships, I don’t fall for women like Giselle who are marriage material.
But I like her.
I really fucking like her.
Everything feels so new, but the risk of fucking it up…
The risk of fucking it up feels so overwhelming.
Even more than the terror of opening myself up for potential pain.
God.
I need a breather; I need to clear my head.
Grazing my fingertips along Giselle’s waistline, I watch as she unlocks the door to her apartment with a quick twist of her key.
I already have one foot out of her apartment, when I hear her, voice soft. “Happy twenty-sixth birthday, Hudson.”
I glance back once and then I’m gone, feeling like a dickhead, but unable to stop my feet from running away.