Chapter 9 #2
No. She was pretty sure he’d just ruined her for all men, and they hadn’t even had sex yet. “That was…I don’t…You’re really good at that.”
Hudson chuckled and the rumble of it shot straight to her still quivering core. “Not done yet.”
“You’re not?” she asked weakly.
In answer, he blew on her nipples, still wet from his mouth, and she felt herself stir again. This just might kill her, but oh, what a way to go.
He kissed his way down her torso, lingering at the edge of her bikini bottoms. She wondered if he’d pull them off with his teeth.
That mental image caused a fresh flood of warmth.
But he didn’t take them off. Not yet, anyway.
He ran a finger just inside the top edge.
That only made her think of it going lower, deeper.
Oh yes, please.
But he didn’t do that either. Instead, he kissed his way down her hip to her thigh, taking his time, continually skimming those gentle hands along her skin. As he neared her knee, she tensed.
He paused to look up at her again. “Still okay?”
She wanted this, wanted what he was trying to give her.
She couldn’t let her neuroses get in the way of that.
“Yeah.” But she dropped her head back to the blanket, not ready to watch him as he worked his way down the rest of her legs, over all the scar tissue.
She’d just focus on the sensation of his mouth, his hands. Nothing else. She closed her eyes.
He straightened her leg, lifting it up, and she waited for the feather-soft kisses. When none came, she murmured, “Don’t stop.”
Still nothing.
Was he waiting for some acknowledgment?
Audrey lifted her head to look down at him. He was kissing her, somewhere around her ankle. In dawning horror, she stared, watching him work his way back toward her knee.
Her throat went tight. “I can’t.” There were tears at the edge of her voice, but she couldn’t stop them.
Hudson’s attention snapped toward her, a frown bowing those masterful lips. “Audrey?”
“I can’t,” she repeated, feeling hysteria bubbling up in her chest.
He laid her leg down on the blanket, covering it with his palm in a gesture that was probably meant to be comforting. “It’s okay. It’s fine. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“No!” She sucked in a breath and let the rest out on a sob. “I can’t feel that. I can’t feel you touching me.”
What the hell had just happened?
Minutes ago, she’d been moaning with pleasure, gone limp with the aftermath of a good, hard orgasm.
Hudson had been good with that. Great with it.
She’d looked so uncertain, so self-conscious about her scars, he’d just wanted to do something to make her realize how desirable she really was.
Hell yes, he wanted her. He was still breathing and she was…
amazing. Not because of that devastating intelligence—though that was sexy, too—but because of what she’d endured, how she’d come out stronger and so full of thirst for life.
Those scars on her legs represented excruciating pain, both from the accident and the surgeries and physical therapy after.
She still hurt, though she didn’t let it slow her down.
He had no idea how much being around him made her think of the accident, but he’d wanted to replace those thoughts, those memories, with pleasure—however much of it she’d allow.
And now he’d gone and fucked it up. Instead of the pleasure, she’d remember this.
“Are you hurting?”
She shook her head, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
That just killed him. Hudson was pretty sure he’d rather be waterboarded than know he’d had anything to do with making her cry.
He should’ve gone with his first instinct days ago and stayed away from her.
This was just further proof that he wasn’t fit to take care of anyone right now.
But it was too late to turn back. He’d let her pull him out of his funk, let himself feel like a normal guy, who could have an uncomplicated fling.
Now, they were in this together, and he’d messed up. He had to do something.
Praying he wasn’t about to make this a thousand times worse, he stroked a hand down her leg, knee to ankle. “What do you feel?” He kept his voice calm, though his guts were tied in knots.
“I…nothing. It’s just numb.”
“Is it always numb?”
Audrey sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. She held the bikini top over her breasts, though she hadn’t retied it. “I don’t know. I still feel pain. How can I feel pain and nothing else?”
“Probably different nerves are responsible for those things.” With all the surgeries, it made sense that there was considerable nerve damage. He stroked it again with firmer pressure, massaging muscles gone tense. “Can you feel the pressure?”
“A little.”
“So, it’s not so much the muscles as the skin. You’re not feeling the surface stuff.”
“I guess.” She wiped at her eyes.
Taking that as a positive sign, he moved lower, running his hands over her bare foot. It flexed in his hands. “You felt that.”
“Yes. I couldn’t walk properly if I didn’t. Well, I couldn’t walk at all. I’m not sure what I do qualifies as proper.”
“You walk. That’s a miracle unto itself.” Shifting to her other leg, he repeated the process, touching, testing. The feeling came back somewhere around her knees in both legs. Very gently, he pressed a kiss at the threshold where she could still feel sensation. “Do you want me to stop?”
Audrey stared at him.
Hudson brushed his lips over the inside of the other knee.
“We can get dressed, go on back to camp and pretend this didn’t happen.
” Not that he was going to forget the sounds she made when she came at any point in this lifetime.
“We can have lunch, as we planned. Or…I can keep going. I can remind you of what you very definitely still feel.”
She was frowning, looking down at his hands, and he realized he’d been idly rubbing them up and down her scarred calves.
He stilled, but didn’t stop touching her. “Sorry.”
“They…really don’t bother you, do they? The scars.” She sounded completely flummoxed by the idea.
“No. They’re a part of you—arguably an indicator of the strongest part—but they’re not all of you.
I want you, Audrey. The whole package.” He didn’t have a right to want her.
She was the sort of woman who deserved promises and forever.
Someone who had his shit together and could stand by her.
He wasn’t that guy. But right now, he could give her this. It had to be better than tears.
“Then don’t stop.” Throat working, she let the top fall, brushing a hesitant hand along his cheek.
It cost her. Hudson could see that in the faint tremble that shook her hand.
But she was taking the leap, as she’d done with everything else he’d thrown at her this week.
He sure as hell planned to make sure she enjoyed the ride.
So, he kissed her. He kissed her like there was no tomorrow.
Like there was no end to camp in a week.
He kissed her until he lost himself in the taste of her mouth, the scent of her sun-warmed skin.
She went pliant beneath him, relaxing, accepting—and it felt like a victory.
Moving down her body, he used his hands, his mouth to coax her up again, steeping her in sensation.
When he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her swimsuit, she moaned, “God, yes.”
He peeled it off, baring her. She was lovely with all that flushed, alabaster skin.
Hudson wanted to feast on it, on her, until they both found oblivion in pleasure.
Skimming his palms up the outsides of her thighs, he watched her face as he bent low to press a kiss to her belly.
It quivered as he edged lower, tracing her hipbone with his tongue.
He expected her to close her eyes. Instead, she watched him, parting her legs to accommodate his shoulders.
He settled between them, sliding his hands beneath her ass to drag her into better position.
And he held her gaze as he lowered his mouth.
Audrey’s breath exploded out, her body bowing in response to the slow lick of his tongue.
She grabbed fistfuls of the blanket, gasping out his name.
Her eyes stayed fixed on his, the pupils so huge, they swallowed up the blue.
It was a shocking intimacy. More than the taste of her on his tongue, more than the feel of her heels digging into his shoulders.
As if she saw that this wasn’t entirely about her, but about losing himself in her pleasure, too.
Hudson couldn’t look away. He soaked up every gasp, every sigh, every needy whimper. And when he pushed her over the edge again, heard her scream, he felt a surge of triumph.
Audrey went boneless, eyes closing at last. With one last kiss to the inside of her thighs, he shifted to stretch out beside her. Sleepy, sated, she curled against him, one hand reaching for the waistband of his shorts.
Hudson caught it, brought to his mouth for little, nibbling kisses. “No.”
Her eyes blinked open, not dazed at all despite the lethargic tone. “But what about you?”
“This wasn’t about me. Today is all about you.” His raging hard-on would fade. Eventually. He wasn’t about to take advantage of her vulnerability. She needed some time to settle and process.
“That hardly seems fair.”
He stroked a lazy hand from her waist to her hip, enjoying that she didn’t seem self-conscious now. “I promise, I enjoyed that almost as much as you did.”
“What did you get out of it?”
His lips curved, and he pressed another kiss to her bare shoulder. “The satisfaction of a job very well done.”
“Cocky. But accurate.” She closed her eyes and rode out another shudder. “So very accurate.” Patting his chest, she rolled away, tugging her swimsuit back on.
There were still shadows in her eyes. He wanted to say something, to ask—shit, he didn’t know what.
How she was feeling? If she was really okay?
But he didn’t want to bring up the whole thing again and make it worse.
So, he said nothing, watching her. As they fell on the picnic like they hadn’t eaten in a week, Audrey said and did all the right things, laughing and joking with him.
But as they packed up to head back to camp, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her light was just a little bit dimmer.