8. Ivory
IVORY
I stare at my laptop screen where the blinking cursor stares back, feeling judged by its steady rhythm as it waits for me to write something worth reading.
The words of my half-finished assignment blur on the screen, statistics and bioethics terms swimming together.
I’ve read the same paragraph five times now while my highlighter hovers uselessly over my bioethics notes as I try to focus.
My mind refuses to stay on task, continuously replaying what happened between Hudson and me last night and this morning.
I can't believe I actually did the things we did.
That I let myself ask for what I wanted.
That I touched a man, let him touch me, kissed him, and allowed myself to feel things I'd been afraid to want.
My cheeks go hot remembering how Hudson's hands felt on my skin, the taste of his lips, and most of all, the way he held me like I was something precious and wasn't just a piece of property to be traded away.
I barely recognize myself.
I’ve been careful for so long. Obedient, always hiding behind the rules, the schedule, the endless expectations of what an Ashford should be.
But with Hudson around, it’s like something’s come loose inside me.
He makes me feel wild, reckless, and alive.
Like the world is bigger, stranger, and so much more dangerous than I was ever allowed to imagine.
I try to refocus as I scroll through a lecture on early childhood development.
I should care.
I mean…I do care. Being able to work with children has always held a special place in my heart.
It’s the one place I could see myself being free.
But every time I start to type a sentence, I remember the way Hudson’s voice went rough when he said my name, the way his body pressed against mine, how I felt so powerful but vulnerable, all at the same time.
I wonder if he’s thinking about it too.
Before I know it, most of the day has slipped by, not even stopping to eat lunch. Besides, I’m too nervous to eat anyway. I’m so used to being alone that the sound of someone knocking on my door makes me jump. I instinctively pull my knees up under me, heart thumping.
“Come in?”
Hudson steps in, filling the doorway. He looks delicious in his gray T-shirt, jeans, and bare feet.
But there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes find me, taking in my still tangled hair, the ratty college T-shirt I changed into, and the stack of books and notes that might as well be from another life.
He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his thick chest. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me,” he says, his mouth curving into that dangerous half smile that makes my stomach flip.
I shrug, acting casual. “I’m catching up on schoolwork.”
He lifts a brow. “You didn’t come out for lunch.”
I can’t hold his gaze. “I wasn’t hungry.”
He walks over and sets a plate down on my desk. There’s a sandwich, an apple, and a handful of chips.
“Eat,” he says, firm but not unkind. “You’ll think better with food in you.”
I pick up the sandwich, unable to hold back a smile. “You sound like my grandma.”
He grins, and just like that, the tension breaks. “Your grandma must be a wise woman.”
I nod, smiling at the memory of her soft hands and the scent of lavender that always clung to her clothes.
“She used to tell me that food feeds the body, but dreams feed the soul. And you need both to survive.”
Hudson sits on the edge of my bed, close enough that I can smell the faint scent of his cologne. I pick up the sandwich and take a bite, realizing how hungry I actually am.
“So,” he says, “what are you working on? Just school stuff, or are you planning your escape from this caged palace?”
I laugh.
“Just school. My major is early childhood development. I want to work with kids, maybe become a teacher or counselor. I like the idea of helping little kids grow up believing they matter.”
He nods.
“I think that fits you perfectly. You’d be good at it. You’re patient. Kind.”
My smile fades. “My dad says it’s a waste of time. He says my job is to support the family, not chase impractical dreams.”
Hudson's jaw tightens. “Your dad can go to hell, too.”
I snort, then slap a hand over my mouth, shocked at my own boldness. Hudson laughs, low and rough, and the sound causes that familiar flutter in the pit of my stomach.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Ivory. You know you don’t have to marry Damian, right?”
My whole body goes rigid. “I don’t think I have a choice, Hudson,” I whisper. “It’s always been this way. My father makes the decisions. My mother obeys. And I… I conform to what they need me to be. It’s business,” I say with a shrug.
“That’s not living, Ivory. That’s surviving. There’s more in life for you than that way of living.”
I want to believe him.
I want to believe there’s a way out of this prison, in a future where I get to choose…make my own decisions. But I can feel the cage, the weight of every expectation, every rule pressing down on me. “I don’t know how,” I admit. “I don’t even know what I would do if I had that kind of freedom.”
He’s silent for a long moment.
“Well…you make the most of what you do have,” he finally says. “You take every scrap of time they haven’t locked down, and you make it yours. And when the door opens, even just a tiny bit, you run like hell.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “What if I’m not fast enough?”
He grins. “Then you let someone help you.”
There are so many unspoken words in his eyes: promise, warning, something that looks too much like hope. I shiver, not from fear, but from want.
We talk about my classes, my favorite books, the way I always wanted to attend a real college campus and live in a dorm, drink bad coffee, and stay up too late with friends. He tells me stories from when he was young, how he joined the military to get away from a small town that never wanted him.
There’s pain in his voice, but I can also see pride, maybe, or relief that he survived.
By the time we finish, the sun is setting, painting gold stripes across my carpet. I realize I’ve eaten everything on the plate. For the first time in months, the weight on my chest has lifted, and I’ve finally remembered how to breathe.
He stands to leave, but I reach out, grabbing his hand before he can move away.
“Hudson?”
He stops, looks down at me, all that strength and danger wrapped up in a single glance.
“Thank you.” My voice is small but strong. “Thank you for caring and reminding me I’m not invisible.”
He squeezes my fingers. “You could never be invisible, Ivory.”
He leaves me with that, the echo of his words bright and warm in my chest. I watch him go, and for the first time, I let myself believe. Maybe freedom isn’t just a dream. Maybe, with Hudson by my side, I can be brave enough to reach for it.
I turn back to my laptop, fingers hovering over the keys. And now, finally, the words come easy.
After dinner, a strange, nervous restlessness takes hold of me.
The room feels too small, my skin too tight, every nerve straining for something I can’t quite put a finger on.
I’m aware of Hudson in the other room; his footsteps, the low rasp of his voice when he answers a call, the sound of him moving through the suite like he belongs there.
There’s a gentle knock, then Hudson opens the door, poking his head in with that half smile that always makes me ache.
“You look like you’re about to crawl out of your skin,” he says, his voice teasing.
Maybe I am.
“I am. Let’s do something. I don’t want to be in this room anymore.”
He studies me, head tilted, like he’s trying to see past my words. “Name it. What do you want to do right now?”
It takes me a second to answer. I’m not good at expressing what I want out loud. I’ve never been given the option. But tonight, I want to. “Isn’t there a pool on the roof? I’ve never been. Could we… go there? Just us?”
For a moment, he hesitates, and my heart pounds, afraid he’ll say it’s too dangerous or too late, that I need to play it safe. But then he nods.
“Hell yeah. Let’s go break some rules.”
I laugh, a little breathless, and grab my swimsuit from the drawer.
It’s a simple black one-piece, very modest, high-necked, the only kind my father approves of.
I wish it were something sexier, something that would make him look twice.
But when I step out of the bathroom, Hudson’s gaze travels over me, and the hunger in his brown eyes transforms my anxiety into a warm, liquid confidence that sits heavy in my belly.
We take the elevator all the way up to the roof, where we step out to find ourselves alone.
Thank goodness.
No one to judge. No one to see.
Below us, the city sparkles like a bunch of tiny, scattered diamonds flickering in the evening sky. Steam rises from the empty pool, the water glowing a gentle turquoise, casting an enchanted-looking light across our faces. Right now, it’s just us, existing in a world of our own.
I dip a toe in first, heat climbing up my leg.
“It’s warm,” I say, grinning over my shoulder at Hudson.
He’s watching me with that look; the one that makes my stomach twist and my heart race.
The city sparkles below, the pool empty and inviting, and suddenly, I want more than just to swim.
I want to do something reckless, something I’ll remember when I go back to being locked away behind gates and rules.
Impulsively, I glance at Hudson, then down at my boring black swimsuit.
“Let’s skinny-dip,” I blurt out.
He blinks, startled. “Are you serious?”
I nod. “Yes. I want to feel free. Just for tonight.”
For a second, I think he’s going to say no. Then he grins, wicked and wolfish.
“After you.”
My fingers fumble with the straps, for once not caring who sees.
I slip my suit off and sink under the water naked, gasping at the heat, every nerve singing with boldness.
When I resurface, Hudson is looking back at me with half-lidded eyes, full of desire.
Without another word, he peels off his trunks and joins me.
Seeing him like this—all hard muscle and glistening skin—sends a hot pulse of need straight to my core.
The water hides us, but not completely. We swim, splash, laugh like little kids, but every brush of skin is electric.
He chases me, catches me, and hauls me to his chest. My bare chest presses against his, and the feel of skin on skin makes me dizzy.
His hands linger, bolder now, sliding down my back, until he’s gripping my hips, making me feel wanted.
He pushes a wet strand of hair from my face, his thumb grazing my cheek.
I force myself to look up. “I want you, Hudson. I want you to be my first.”
He kisses me; hungry, desperate, claiming.
His hands roam everywhere, cupping my breasts, sliding down to my ass, pulling me closer until there’s nothing but heat, skin, and wanting.
He lifts me, pins me against the edge, and my legs wrap around his waist, the friction making me gasp.
I can feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against my belly.
I shift, bolder than I’ve ever been, lining him up with my slick folds.
Slowly, I rock my hips so the length of him drags over my clit.
The sensation is electric. Every nerve ending is alive as I grind against him, greedy for more, shuddering as the head of his cock glides back and forth along my most sensitive spot.
He groans, eyes squeezing shut like he’s in pain and heaven all at the same time. “Wait…wait. Ivory, if we start, I won’t be able to stop. And I don’t want your first time to be out here, not like this. You deserve better, something special.”
I wrap myself around him, “Don’t stop. Please, Hudson.”
“I’ll make you come, but we’re not having sex for the first time in some hotel pool.”
“Okay.”
His hand finds me under the water, fingers stroking. He finds my sweet spot, making tiny circles. I moan his name, loving the sound of it echoing off the water.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers against my neck. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
He adds a finger, working me, until my whole world is nothing but pure pleasure. It doesn’t take much until I’m coming undone in his arms, clutching on to him as my orgasm hits, leaving my whole body shuddering under his touch.
My body feels electric, like I’m glowing from the inside out. Hudson makes me feel brave and beautiful in ways I’ve never felt before. It’s intoxicating. Tonight, I belong to him, and it’s everything.
Still shaking from my release, I slide my hand down his body until I find him, still hard and thick. I want to return the favor like I did this morning. I want to make him come apart the way I just did; to feel him push inside me and make us one.
But when my hand closes over him, he catches my wrist, stopping me. His eyes are dark, burning with need and something deeper, softer.
“No, Ivory. I said, not like this,” he says, voice thick. “You’re not going to be a quick fuck in a pool. I want you in my bed, where I can take my time with you. I want your first time to be right. To be something you remember and never regret.”
I want to argue, to tell him it’s fine and that I don’t care. But there’s so much feeling in his voice, so much promise.
All I can do is nod, tears stinging my eyes. No one’s ever made me feel like I was worth waiting for.
He kisses me, slow and deep, as if he’s sealing a promise.
“Come on, let’s get you warm,” he murmurs, gathering me up and carrying me from the water.
We wrap ourselves in towels, laughing softly at a joke Hudson makes, trying to lighten the mood.
All the while, my body is humming, my heart wide open.
I know everything is about to change, and I know without a doubt, Hudson is the one I want to share this moment with.
He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.
That I’m worthy of being wanted by someone, and not just for transactional purposes.
And for the first time, I believe I deserve it.