Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Presley
I held Hudson’s hands, and we stared at each other for a moment. A war was going on in my head. I wanted this. I thought about it over the past few years and seeing Hudson again told me that the chemistry that started as puppy love five years ago was now bordering on a full-blown romance.
I gave a strangled cry of his name. “Huddy.”
I didn’t want to fuck this up, but I was afraid we were moving so fast. He slipped his hands from under mine and folded them in front of him.
“Talk to me, Presley. You can say no. I won’t get upset.”
“Truth?”
We weren’t even playing the game any longer. It was just a way for us to express how we felt and know that we were being honest with each other. He grabbed my hand.
“Tell me.”
“I’m afraid. I’m worried I’ll hurt you. That I’m not sure about anything right now.”
His hold grew tighter on my hand. “Like it’s over with Evan?”
I looked at the wall. "Yeah.”
Tears burned my eyes. I’d wanted Hudson for so long. Why couldn’t he come back last year when I didn’t have a boyfriend? Why did Evan have to make this so complicated. He changed like the weather. One day he could be the sweetest guy and the next, a total asshole.
Hudson’s eyes darkened, his brow furrowed. “While you’re here I’m going to say this once and then let it go for tonight. Evan Braddock is an asshole. He wants to get in your panties and once it’s done, you don’t know what the future holds for you two. You told me you thought he was cheating. Why are you having doubts about ending it?”
I bit my lip, unsure of anything. “Suppose I’m wrong? Suppose it wasn’t Reagan’s bra? Evan used to sleep with a lot of girls. They threw themselves at him, they still do. That bra could’ve been there for a long time.”
Hudson sighed and let go of my hand, reaching for his jeans. He pulled them on and as he retrieved his shirt, his belt jingled. I felt like a piece of shit, a cock tease.
I clenched my jaw, holding in tears that threatened to fall. “Huddy?”
“I’ll be in the media room. Get dressed,” he said as he walked out of the room.
I hunted for my clothing then spied Hudson’s bathrobe hanging on the back of his bedroom door. I pulled on the soft navy terry robe and belted it closed. It smelled of his citrusy cologne and body wash. I could sleep in it and feel comforted. When I was dressed, I padded to the media room.
Hudson was sitting in his seat staring at the massive screen. The movie was frozen on the scene when we started to kiss. I entered and sat beside him.
“That’s my robe,” he said.
“It smells good and it’s soft. I’m still sleeping over.”
He yanked me across the armrest, his hands gripping the lapels of his robe as he crashed his mouth onto mine. The heat between us was instant, blazing, as his tongue tangled with mine in a dance that felt like heaven, each stroke long, delicious, sending a surge through my body. He bit my bottom lip, tugging just enough to draw a gasp from me, and when his robe slipped open, I moved my hips against his hardness, feeling him through the thin barrier of fabric.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough, almost broken.
I pulled back, searching his eyes. “I’ll end it. For good. I can’t keep seeing you every day, can’t keep wanting you. It’s tearing me apart.”
A single tear slipped down my cheek, and he brushed it away, his thumb lingering, gentle on my skin. His fingers drifted lower, grazing the waistband of my panties, pausing, waiting. When I didn’t stop him, he went further, his touch slipping over the wet heat of me, and I shivered, my body pulsing with need that was sharper, deeper than anything I’d ever felt with anyone else.
He sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers pressing deeper. “You’re so damn wet,” he whispered, half in awe, half possessive.
I pressed my hips into his hand, the friction sending sparks through me. His other hand found its way to my hair, fisting it gently as he tugged my head back, his lips trailing down to my throat, sucking at the sensitive skin. I moaned, the heel of his palm grazing my clit with each pump of his fingers, building pressure, until my vision blurred with white-hot pleasure.
“Oh God, Hudson,” I gasped, “I’m… I’m coming.”
My body clenched around him, trembling, and he held me close, letting me ride out every wave until I collapsed against him, my forehead resting on his shoulder.
“Stop,” I whispered, feeling like I couldn’t take any more.
But he only shook his head, his lips brushing my ear as he murmured, “No. You’re mine tonight. Whether we go all the way or not, I’m not stopping until you’re completely, blissfully spent.”
I kissed him, his mouth warm and possessive, while his thumb resumed stroking my clit, relentless. Another wave built, faster this time, and I rocked against his hand, my second orgasm tearing through me as I cried out his name. He pulled his fingers from me, and with a heated gaze, licked them clean, his eyes never leaving mine.
He rose, scooping me into his arms and hurrying into his room as I circled my arms around his neck. He licked his lips as he placed me next to his bed.
“Christ,” he groaned, “You taste incredible,” he growled, “I want you to sit on my face. I need you.”
I shivered, not fully sure if I could handle the intensity of him, but I nodded. “Now?” I managed, my voice a breathless squeak.
“Now.”
In one smooth motion, he lifted me, laying me out on the bed. As I caught my breath, he undressed, his gaze dark and intense, then slid my panties down my legs, nudging my thighs apart. No one had ever seen me like this, so exposed, so vulnerable. But with Hudson, I wanted it. I spread my legs, my skin prickling with anticipation as he settled between them, bending my knees as his tongue flicked over my clit in the gentlest stroke that sent a jolt through me.
“Hudson… that feels…” I moaned, unable to finish.
He gripped my waist, flipping me onto my stomach and shoving a pillow under me. My knees pressed forward, lifting my hips, and his fingers spread me wide as his tongue explored every inch of me. Then, unexpectedly, he dragged his tongue over the tight ring of muscle between my cheeks, and I gasped, shocked and aroused all at once.
“What are you?—”
“Shh.” He held me still, his mouth relentless, drawing shivers from places I didn’t know could feel so good. When I reached between my legs to touch my clit, he pushed my hand away. “Tonight, I’m in charge of every orgasm.”
“Then take me,” I begged, voice hoarse. “Please, Hudson, just?—”
He stilled. “You’re sure?”
I nodded, gripping the sheets, desperate. “Hudson, I’ve never been more sure.”
He breathed out a low groan, almost like he was restraining himself, and rolled onto his back, reaching for a condom. He ripped it open, his movements quick and precise, and rolled it on, his body lean and powerful as he joined me on the bed. When he brushed the tip of his cock between my swollen lips, my breath hitched, and slowly, he eased himself inside me, stretching me with a heat that bordered on pain until he was fully seated.
His hands gripped my hips, voice thick with concern. “Presley, are you okay?”
I nodded, my body tingling, on fire. “Yes. Just… move.”
He pulled out, then thrust back in, setting a steady rhythm, his deep groans mixing with my moans. We moved together, our bodies perfectly in sync, each stroke sending me closer to another release. He flipped me onto my back, pressing himself back inside me before I could even catch my breath, his chest against mine, slick with sweat.
“So damn beautiful,” he murmured, his crystal blue eyes holding mine with an intensity that made my pulse skip. I couldn’t look away.
“Oh, Hudson… I’m so close,” I gasped, my body clenching around him.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his voice thick with pride and possessiveness as my climax hit, fierce and unrelenting.
I felt his release, deep and powerful, and he collapsed against me, our bodies entangled, breath mingling.
Hudson stirred beside me, and I leaned in, whispering, “Hudson, are you awake?”
He groaned, his voice thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to talk.” I shifted, more aware of his arm draped over me and the insistent press of his body against mine. Three times and we still weren’t sated; the thought sent a flicker of heat through me.
He exhaled, his arm tightening around me as he pulled me closer. “What time is it?”
“3:30 a.m.”
I turned in his arms, hooking my leg over his hip, feeling the heat of him against my belly. His sleepy eyes opened, meeting mine as he shifted even closer.
“What are we?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“This couldn’t wait until morning?” he mumbled, though his hand brushed a stray lock of hair from my face with surprising tenderness.
“What do you want us to be?” His lips found my forehead in a gentle kiss, as if my answer would be the final word.
I hesitated, biting my lip. “Do we walk into school holding hands on Monday?”
His hand rested on my cheek, his thumb tracing slow circles. “I’ll do anything you want, Pres.”
He reached back, snapping on the light. The sudden glow softened his face, and I ran my hand over the rough stubble on his chin, feeling the warmth of him under my touch.
“You’re part of this too,” I murmured. “We have to decide together.”
His gaze softened. “Pres, I know what you’re afraid of.”
I pulled back, frowning. “Afraid? Of what?”
“Your image. You think dumping Evan would change how people see you.” He paused, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “But it would elevate you. You don’t need him to make you popular or to make your year. If you want, we can keep this quiet until you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I love you.”
My heart stuttered, and I looked down, pressing my fingers against his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath my hand. “And what about Reagan?”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Until we’re out in the open? I’ll just keep hanging with her—and of course, the kissing will stay on the table.”
I smacked his arm, my mouth dropping open. “Seriously? You wouldn’t!”
He let out a soft chuckle, wrapping his arms around me. “Of course not. You’ve been my goal all along.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, studying his face. “Did you… did you plan this? When you moved back?”
“Once Mom told me we were moving back, I might’ve done a little stalking.” He grinned, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Your Instagram’s full of pictures with you and dickhead. I knew I had my work cut out for me—you looked so happy.”
“I wasn’t,” I admitted softly. “I thought I was. Until you came back.”
His fingers laced through mine, giving a reassuring squeeze. “Then fight for your happiness, Pres. Learn to value yourself. Ayn Rand wrote something like that. And it’s true.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Ayn Rand? You read?”
Hudson smiled, a flash of something boyish breaking through his intensity. “All the time. When Mom was working late, I’d find a spot at the library nearby and just read until they’d kick me out. That library was my home for a long time.”
My fingers traced his jaw, the memory of all those years without him pressing in. “Truth? I cried after you moved. I hated recess because you weren’t there. I just… threw myself into activities, anything to fill that gap you left.”
“So, you don’t actually like cheerleading?” he teased, brushing a knuckle under my chin.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Not really. But it’s a good excuse to keep an eye on Neil.”
His gaze darkened a fraction. “You’re worried Evan might take things out on your brother?”
I nodded, the thought making my stomach twist. “Evan doesn’t let things go. And Neil… he’s young. Loves hanging out with the older guys. But he’s too trusting.”
Hudson’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening. “I won’t let him hurt Neil.”
A pang of relief washed over me as I brushed my fingers over his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you.”
He lifted my hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. “For you, Pres? Anything.”