15. BOUND
FIFTEEN
bound
Enzo
Pippa agreed to meet with Hudson and me tonight to talk. Evidently, we all agree that is the right next step, but as I stand with my best friend in his apartment, my stomach, my chest, and my head have decided this is not a good idea at all.
What good could possibly come from talking about all these charged feelings?
I don’t know exactly where tonight is headed, but I know it’s already on unstable ground.
I should just step back. They are the two with history.
I’ve only known the woman for two weeks.
I’m considering telling Hudson as much when—
Knock, knock.
Hudson opens the door and the sight of Pippa causes my heart to stutter in my chest.
Her midnight-blue silk dress is cut low enough to make a man forget his better judgment. The silver stilettos look like they were designed specifically to tempt disaster. She wears confidence like armor, and tonight it’s as sharp as glass. She wants the upper hand.
Bella, it’s already yours.
Hudson clocks her outfit. “Well damn, Janey, you planning on giving me a heart attack before drinks?”
She brushes past him with a smirk. “Just trying to liven up what I assumed would otherwise be a very boring meeting.”
I watch her take in the apartment, slow and assessing.
Hudson’s place is clean, polished, masculine.
Expensive without trying. She’s never been here before, I know that much.
Everything between John and Jane happened on neutral ground—hotels, temporary spaces, places you don’t leave fingerprints.
Now the veil is half-raised, revealing real names, day jobs, hidden responsibilities, and apartments.
I stand by the window with a glass of bourbon, eyeing her appreciatively.
She smiles, but I can tell she’s trying to read me.
“This feels incriminating. Mafia royalty spotted inside a federal agent’s apartment? Bold,” she smirks.
“I own the building. And the security system. Nothing gets in or out without me knowing.”
She blinks. “Jesus. How much of DC do you own?”
“A lot.”
Hudson drops into an armchair, feet up like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Yeah, it’s super convenient. Mobster landlord, FBI tenant. We’re like the shittiest sitcom premise ever.”
I don’t laugh. The operation is tomorrow night. Everything’s set. Roles assigned. Contingencies planned. There’s nothing left to talk about.
Except this.
“Well, gentleman,” Pippa says, light but deliberate, “thank you for the invitation. I must say, I’m happy we’ve reached this inevitable conclusion. When I imagined the three of us together, this is exactly how it started. So, who’s making the first move?”
I straighten. “Before anything happens, we need to talk.”
“About the op?” she asks, innocent in a way that isn’t innocent at all. “Or about logistics of a different sort? Who’s putting what where?”
Hudson lifts his hand like he’s toasting. “Cheers to that.”
“We need to be smart. We can’t let whatever this is mess with our plans.”
“You think I’d risk our mission over a hookup? Cute, but no. Nothing to worry about on my end.”
Hudson laughs quietly but stays out of it.
“I’m serious,” I try again. “My friendship with Hudson isn’t something I’m willing to sacrifice over a few nights of sex.”
“Good to know where I rank,” she says turning toward the door.
“Wait,” Hudson says, standing. “Pip, come on. He didn’t mean it like that.”
She pauses, hand on the knob.
“He just thinks too damned much,” Hudson throws a glare my way. “Me? I’m over here thinking maybe the three of us need to have a little less conversation, a little more action.”
She glances back, mouth twitching. “Elvis would be proud.”
I sigh and drag a hand through my hair, interrupting the wave of easy flirtation. “I just don’t want to screw this up.”
“Then don’t,” she fires back, closing the distance between us. There’s heat in her eyes now, challenge sharp as a blade. “Don’t screw it up. Stop overthinking and feel something for once.”
“That’s my girl.” Hudson’s grin falters when he notices I’m not smiling. “Shit. Pippa, Enzo is right.” Hudson sighs, more serious now. “Like I told you on the phone, I’m not going to jeopardize our relationship. We all have to be on the same page if this goes any further.”
The room stills. A standoff with an electric pulse. Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Look, I get it,” Pippa says finally. “You two go way back. I’m not here to fuck that up.
” She shifts her weight, voice dropping, softer now but no less steady.
“I respect your friendship and sincerely appreciate the fact that you're maintaining a focus on our mission. I’d never let anything come between Jules, Luna, or me either.” She meets my eyes then Hudson’s.
“The way I see it, we’ve got two choices—we take this one step at a time and see if there’s anything here or we shut it down now.
Your friendship, our operation, none of it’s worth screwing up over sex, like Enzo said.
Even if the sex might be”—she smiles—“spectacular.”
Hudson chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn, Janey. You really know how to kill the mood and turn me on at the same time.”
The tension stretches, then settles into something precarious but livable.
“One step at a time,” I say. “No drama. No games. If it gets messy, we walk.”
Hudson confirms with a tilt of his head. “I can live with that.”
She arches a brow. “Well, gentlemen...I’m glad we’re all feeling adult about this. Now, who’s pouring me a bourbon?”
Hudson beelines to the drink cart to do as the lady asked.
Pippa sits on the couch, crossing her sexy-as-sin legs in those damned stilettos like she owns the place, and I know I’m in trouble.
I need to take control of this situation before it takes control of me. "You've been with her before,” I say to Hudson, “so maybe tonight, I sit back and watch and learn."
Hudson lifts a brow but doesn’t argue. He sits next to Pippa on the couch. As they both look to me, I consider how drawn I am to both of them. Separately they are stunning. Together they are breathtaking.
Pippa tilts her head at me and smiles sweetly. "Learn what, exactly?"
I take a seat in the chair across from her. "What you like."
She swallows hard, her playful expression faltering just slightly.
I look to Hudson and I clear my throat, voice a little rougher than I want it to be. “Tell me what she likes,” I say. “Show me how you touch her.”
Hudson doesn’t look caught off guard. He just angles slightly toward her, brushing his knuckles along her thigh. Casual. Familiar. Intimate in a way that draws me in.
“She doesn’t want control,” he says, voice low. “Not in bed. Not here.”
My brows knit. That’s not what I expected. Not from Pippa.
“She likes to lose herself,” Hudson continues, glancing at me. “She likes to be told. To be pushed. Not because she wants to be dominated—she doesn’t belong to anyone—it’s the freedom of it. The edge.”
I look at her.
Pippa’s eyes are half-lidded, her chest rising and falling a little faster now, lips parted as if the sound of his voice alone is doing something to her. She’s not denying it. Hell, she’s basking in it.
“She craves abandon,” Hudson adds. “Not safety. Not predictability. The rush. She wants to be wanted. Loudly. Unapologetically.”
“And an audience?”
Hudson smiles. “That just makes it better.”
Pippa lets out the softest sound, a breathy moan, and I swear to God, it tightens something in my chest.
I lean forward. My gaze flicks from Hudson’s hands to the look on Pippa’s face. She’s glowing—lit from within by anticipation.
“Stand, bella. Let Hudson show you how much he wants you.”
And just like that, she obeys.
Fuck.
Hudson stands in front of her, his hands move to Pippa’s hips like instinct, like he’s done it a hundred times before.
My jaw ticks knowing that’s probably true, but I don’t move. I watch. I listen. I try to decipher what it is I’m feeling. Is it jealousy? Not quite. Possession?
Closer.
Pippa lets out a low moan as Hudson’s mouth skims her neck, her fingers curling around his shirt. She’s in her element, soaking in the attention like a flower with sunlight. And fuck if she doesn’t deserve every ounce of it.
I shift in my seat, adjusting for the tension building in my pants. And in my chest. “Show me how you touch her,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend.
Hudson turns to me slowly, his eyes narrowing just slightly, testing, not resisting. “She likes to be handled,” he says, his voice just above a whisper, “with confident hands. Command but make her feel worshiped while you ruin her. That’s the trick.”
My gaze flicks back to Pippa, now watching us both like she’s the flame, and we’re circling moths. She bites her bottom lip.
My restraint damn near snaps. I’ve always needed control. Always. It’s how I grew my family’s empire after my parents were murdered. It’s how I’ve managed to lead men who’d slit throats without blinking. But this? This isn’t a battlefield. This is something else entirely.
“Then keep going,” I instruct Hudson. “Let me see.”
He obeys. Slowly, deliberately. His fingers slip beneath the hem of her dress, tracing her body as he removes her dress over her head.
She’s not wearing anything under that damned dress. Pippa stands before us, totally naked in silver stilettos.
Okay, you beautiful minx…new kink unlocked.
Hudson and I are both stunned silent as we stare at her.
“Hudson,” I say low and husky, to get him to focus, “touch her.” As if coming out of a fog, he takes his hand and starts slowly rubbing her clit as he takes a nipple into his mouth.
Pippa arches, her head tipping back with a gasp.
My stomach knots. My fists clench.
I look at Hudson again. His focus. His touch. The way he reacts to her every breath like it matters. There’s something magnetic about him, there always has been, but I buried that invisible force so deeply I almost convinced myself it wasn’t there.
Until now.