23. Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-three
Hudson
We fell asleep outside, my arms wrapped around Mia as she’d lain sprawled across my chest. It wasn’t for long, but it was enough for me to know that we’re both feeling this. Whatever this is. We’re comfortable around each other in a way neither of us have been with previous sexual partners.
It made me realize that I’m totally screwed when it comes to her.
She’s mine. Forever.
She’s currently in my kitchen swaying her hips to the music as she cooks us something she said was both quick and delicious.
She has a few clothes at mine now and she’s currently got a little pair of shorts and a cropped vest on. Her tits are bare underneath and jiggle every time she shimmies.
I’m mesmerized. Completely and utterly captivated by her beauty, her energy. By her.
As she dances, I sit at the breakfast bar with my laptop open in front of me, trying to arrange the jet to London. It’s taking longer than I thought, thanks to a dark-haired distraction that I can’t seem to take my eyes off for longer than a minute.
“Is that your top-secret mission you’re doing on there?” She nods toward the laptop in front of me.
“Trying to. Someone keeps distracting me.” She spins to face me, a look of mock shock on her face.
“How am I distracting you?” I merely raise my eyebrow at her and look her up and down. “I can’t help it if you’re a pervert.”
“When it comes to you, I’m everything.”
“Aww the big bad biker’s got it bad.”
Damn right I do, baby girl.
I hit confirm on the flight schedule I’ve finally been able to concentrate on enough to actually arrange, but decide to tackle the hotel tomorrow. I know exactly where we’re staying; it’s the same little boutique hotel just off The Mall that I always stay at.
I’m taking my girl to London. One of my favorite cities.
“Food’s ready.” She pops a plate in front of me. I have no idea what it’s meant to be, but I’ll give her credit, it smells delicious.
“Thanks, baby. What is it?”
“Nachos.” Huh?
“I’ve had nachos.” I gesture to the plate in front of me. “This is not nachos.”
“It’s the Whitlock version. Trust me it’s good.”
“Where are the nachos?” She tuts at me as she takes the seat next to me.
“The presentation might need some work but the flavors all there.”
I cautiously pick up my fork and load it up with the food, taking a bite and hoping for the best. I moan as I’m hit with a kaleidoscope of flavors, hot, cool, cheesy, meaty — everything all at once.
“Fuck, baby, this is good. Really fucking good.” I don’t hesitate with my next bite, taking an even bigger one this time.
“Told ya,” she sings as she fills her own mouth with the delectable food.
“What else can you cook?”
“Not much. I think I probably have about three dishes I can claim to cook well.”
“Well, if they’re anything like this, I’ll take those, too.”
“Do you cook?” She turns to look at me as she chews on her food.
“Yeah, I know my way around a kitchen. I’ll cook for you this week, and on nights when neither of us fancy it, then we’ll get takeout.”
“How many nights am I staying with you for?”
“All of them.”
She chokes on the mouthful of food she’d just placed in her mouth, and I thump her back hard, passing her the water that’s in front of us.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She just about manages to get out. She takes a moment to get her breathing back under control before she speaks again. “What do you mean ‘all of them’?”
“What did it sound like I meant?”
“Like you expect me to stay here indefinitely.”
“Bingo.”
“Oh, fuck off, Hudson.” I pause with my fork midway to my mouth and turn my head to face her.
“You want to try that one again?”
“You heard me just fine.”
“I really hope for your sake I didn’t.” She can’t honestly think she’s going to get away with talking to me like that?
“I am not staying with you every night. We’re not like that, not to mention we can’t be like that. I also live at home. I might be twenty-two, but my mom will ask questions if I practically move out.”
“Show me the same respect I show you when you’re talking to me. You don’t ever want to tell me to ‘fuck off’ again. Believe me it won’t end well for you.”
“Hmm, like the respect you show me when you’ve got your dick in my mouth and are calling me your little slut?” My dick pulses in my sweatpants at her words.
“That’s different and you know it.”
“Fine,” she huffs but I just stare her down. “Sorry, okay? It just slipped out.”
I still stare at her, she’s not given me what I want, not yet.
“Oh my god,” she mutters under her breath. “Sorry, Daddy. There, happy now?”
“Such a brat,” I whisper.
Your brat, she mouths at me and I can’t help but smile at her.
“As for your mom, tell her you’ve met someone.”
“And that I’m spending every night with them?” She tilts her head at me like she thinks I’m being ridiculous.
“Yeah, exactly that.”
“Who spends every night together at the beginning of a relationship?”
“We do,” I shrug.
“Hudson,” she grates out. “Take a minute to think about this. Be reasonable.”
“What is it you think would be acceptable, then?” I can be fair.
“Three nights.”
“Absolutely not.” Fuck being fair. No way. “You get one night at home.”
“I get?” She turns to glare at me. “You don’t control me.”
“Sweet pea, we both know that neither of us want to spend more than a night away from each other. Don’t fight me on this when it’s what we both want.”
“Six nights a week together is insane.”
“Not if it’s what we both want.” I push my plate away from me, my dinner now finished.
“My mom’s going to want to meet you at some point. What do we do then?”
I shrug. “Then I meet her.”
Her head drops to the breakfast bar as she knocks it against the marble several times. “I give up,” she mutters and I chuckle at her overreaction.
“What’s wrong with me meeting your mother?”
“We can’t be anything, Hudson. Why on earth would you meet my mother?”
I point at her as my frustration begins to grow. “Stop thinking like that. I will find a way for us to work, trust me on that.”
“Are you saying this is serious?”
“Tell me you’re joking? You cannot honestly be asking me that. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life as I am about you.”
“I thought we were scratching an itch, that we were getting this out of our systems so we could move on.”
“There will be no moving on,” I growl. “You’re telling me you would be okay with walking away?”
“No, I’m not saying that, but I didn’t necessarily think we were serious.”
“Well, now you know.”
“I still don’t see how we can work.”
“Just trust me, okay?” I pull her off her stool and onto my lap. “Now, why don’t we watch a movie?”
“You going to turn all domesticated on me now?”
I laugh as I pull her in tighter to me. “No, baby, I’ll still be a caveman when it comes to you, but I like the thought of lying on the couch with you. Of your body pressed to mine as we watch something mindless on T.V.”
“You know what that leads to.”
“I’m counting on it.”