Chapter Four #2
She wears a white sleeveless sequined pantsuit that fits her perfectly but remains classy.
A V-neck bares her tanned skin but not the breasts I’ve yet to see in person or feel in my hands.
The bottom of the pant legs is wide, her silver shoes high, and she clutches a matching sparkling bag beneath one arm, a silver shawl hanging over her other one.
Her dark hair flows in perfect waves around her face, and her makeup is flawless.
She simply takes my breath away. “Jesus, Bri. You’re gorgeous.”
Smiling and eyes twinkling, she says, “Thank you, but you haven’t seen the best part.” She slides her hair over one shoulder and pivots, turning her back to me. Thick straps cross her tanned back, and the material comes to a V at a low but modest point where the pants begin.
“How the hell do you expect me to concentrate on what anyone says at the dinner table?” All I’ll be thinking about is bringing her home, peeling that pantsuit off her perfect body, and burying myself deep inside her wet heat.
She spins back to me. “I told you I’d be your distraction, didn’t I?”
I let out a low groan, resigning myself to a long, uncomfortable night, both with my parents and thanks to my now hard dick, before we return here to make use of the king-size bed in the other room.
* * *
Brianne
I wasn’t raised in a wealthy home, but between Uncle Paul and the athletes I now represent, I know how to handle myself.
Neither status nor people with attitudes scare me, yet I have a feeling Hudson’s parents will test my resolve.
Once again in a town car with a driver, Hudson and I pull up to a home in Greenwich, Connecticut, hidden by dense trees, at the end of a long driveway that is nearly invisible off the main road.
“Did you grow up here?” I ask of the mansion in front of me with ivy growing over the brick facade.
He nods. “I did.”
Though he looks extraordinarily handsome, I note he’s grown more and more silent as we approach our destination, and I leave him to his brooding thoughts. There will be time enough to coax him back to his smiling self when we return to the hotel.
The car comes to a stop at the front of the house on a circular driveway, and the driver opens the door for me to climb out.
“I’ll be here when you’re ready to leave,” the man who introduced himself as Tom says.
“Thank you. I’m not sure how long we’ll be.” Hudson nods at the driver.
Placing a hand on my bare lower back, he leads me up the steps and rings the doorbell. If it was my mother’s house or even Uncle Paul’s, if they know I am coming, the door will be unlocked and I’d let myself inside.
I draw a deep breath just as the door opens and what I assume is a maid greets us. Middle-aged, hair pulled back in a bun, she is the stereotypical greeter one would see in a movie except this is real life. Hudson’s life.
“Hello, Dr. Northfield. Welcome home.”
“Hi, Maggie. And please call me Hudson. I ate milk and cookies in the kitchen and told you about my day after school.”
The woman’s expression softens. “Yes, you did. And who is this beautiful young woman?”
“Brianne Prescott, this is Maggie. Maggie, meet Brianne.”
I treat the woman to my warmest smile. “Hi, Maggie. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine. I don’t see Dr. … Hudson often anymore, and it’s nice to know he’s not alone.”
“Maggie, is that Hudson?” a woman’s voice calls out.
“If she was so curious, she could have met me at the door,” Hudson mutters, and I place a hand on his arm to calm him.
Maggie steps back, and we walk inside. Marble floors, a winding staircase to the left, and heavy dark wood décor and equally dark drapery on the windows surround them.
“Hudson, it’s about time you came home!” His mother, an attractive woman with dark hair and a Chanel skirt and jacket, comes forward to greet him. She possesses glowing skin and a perfect bob surrounding her made-up face.
“Hello, Mother.” Hudson duly offers up his cheek, which she air-kisses. “And you must be Brianne.” She offers her hand, and I take it.
“So nice to meet you. Hudson’s told me such nice things about you and the family.”
“Has he now?”
Hudson clears his throat, and I do my best not to poke him in the side.
“Come. Your father’s waiting in the study. We can have drinks before dinner.” She turns and walks away, fully expecting us to follow.
“Do you want to run yet?” Hudson’s lips twitch in a grin.
“Nah. It’ll take more than a cool breeze to scare me. Let’s go. I’m curious about your father.”
Hudson rolls his eyes. Hooking his arm in mine, we head the way his mother has gone, and soon I find myself in a wood-paneled room with built-in bookshelves and what appears to be old books lining the shelves.
An antique clock hangs on one wall, and a large mahogany desk takes up one side of the room.
A man in a suit stands beside a bay window, turning when we enter.
I stare at an older version of Hudson. Martin Northfield’s salt-and-pepper hair extends to his beard, giving me a glimpse of Hudson’s appearance in the future.
Even their dour expressions are similar.
I much prefer his laughing persona and the sexy grin that tempts me to sin.
“Hello, Dad.” As Hudson speaks, he pulls me closer to his side.
“Hudson. It’s good to see you.” He steps forward and shakes his son’s hand.
I do my best not to react, although at this point, I really want to cry for the cold atmosphere in which Hudson has been raised. I applaud him for managing to escape and become the kind, caring man I know him to be.
“Dad, this is Brianne Prescott. Brianne, my father, Martin.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brianne.” His father looks me over and, seemingly satisfied, gives me a nod. “Can I get either of you a drink?” he asks.
Hudson glances my way, but I shake my head. “No, thank you.” Alcohol makes me tired, and I want to be wide-awake for Hudson later.
“None for me, either, thanks.” Hudson declines as well.
His father shrugs. “Well, then. Shall we go straight into dinner?”
If it means getting this stiff, formal evening over with, I am all for food.
The rest of the night proceeds as I expected once meeting the Northfields.
There are more courses than I can eat in one sitting served by a man and woman in uniform.
Martin doesn’t ask about Hudson’s career or how he is enjoying his new jobs; instead, he brags about the family trading business and deals he has in the works.
He pushes for Hudson to give up jobs that barely earn him a living and instead come home, where he belongs, to which Hudson adamantly puts his foot down.
There is something sexy about a man who knows what he wants and refuses to bow to anyone in order to achieve his goals, but this conversation tells me how difficult the request for investment money is going to be for Hudson.
A talk he plans to have on Sunday morning before we fly home later that afternoon.
Nobody asks me what I do for a living, nor do they seem interested in me at all, so I eat in silence and grow angry on Hudson’s behalf.
When we are blessedly on dessert and coffee and leaving for the hotel is finally in sight, Lucille speaks up for what seems like the first time.
“Hudson, darling, I mentioned to Corinne that you would be in town this weekend, and she’s hoping you’ll give her a call. Find time to get together?” She glances at me. “Hudson and Corinne go way back,” she explains, daintily patting her lips with a napkin.
At least I haven’t taken a sip of coffee or a bite of pie, because my mouth opens wide. His mother is actually matchmaking while he sits at the table with another woman by his side.
“You know, I assumed since I was bringing a date, you’d have enough class not to mention this ridiculous request again. Apparently I gave you too much credit.”
“Hudson!” his father says in a warning tone.
Ignoring him, Hudson yanks the napkin off his lap and tosses it onto the table. “Bri is sitting right here, and you’re being rude.” He rises from his seat, taking my hand and helping me to my feet.
I manage to lean down, grasp my purse, then take my shawl off the back of my chair.
“For the record,” Hudson says, “Corinne and I do not go way back. We aren’t even friends. You just keep giving the woman false hope that she can marry into this family, and you need to stop. Now.”
“But … Hudson, don’t leave. I won’t bring her up again. I just thought—”
“You thought you’d try and run my life in your own way, just like Dad is trying to do in his.” Anger vibrates through him, and I feel his fury.
I reach for his hand, but my touch does nothing to calm him.
Martin rises from his seat. “Sit down, son.”
Hudson shakes his head. “I put up with you both pushing me. I’m used to it, but Brianne is my guest, and I won’t have her dismissed the way you did tonight. We’re leaving, and we’ll see you at the wedding.” He eases out my chair and guides me toward the arched entry and exit.
“Umm, thank you for dinner,” I say as he all but pulls me from the room.
I rush alongside him, waiting until we reach the front door before I come to a halt. “Hudson, go back and make peace. You need something from your father, and this isn’t the way to get it.” Softening the man up would have been a better angle.
“Actually it was exactly the right move. My father respects a man who stands up for himself. I’ll deal with the clinic funds on Sunday. Right now I want to get the hell out of here.”
He pulls open the door, and we step outside. Hudson sends a text for the driver, letting him know to pull around to the front of the house because we are ready to go.
On the ride home, I give him space, allowing him the time to lose his anger and refocus his energy.
Meanwhile, I go over the evening in my mind.
And I can’t deny how much I appreciate Hudson sticking up for me and refusing to let his parents treat me badly.
He’d put up with it for himself because they are his mother and father, but he draws the line when it comes to me. And that fury on my behalf turns me on.
He won’t want to hear it now but later? When we get back to the room, I’ll let him in on that secret and show him exactly what his protective behavior means to me.