37. Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Hudson
I’m making my way down the stairs from checking on Paige when I hear her key in the door. I expect her to come in, but she doesn’t. Crossing the living room, I swipe my phone off the coffee table and head into the kitchen to throw away the empty beers I’ve smashed in the couple of hours she’s been gone. The last thing I want is Finn walking into my pathetic pity party, flushed from her date and on a high that I didn’t give her.
I was such a dick about those shoes. And what the fuck was that comment about her top? Fuck. She has every right to be pissed at me. She looked fucking stunning, with her tiny crop top, skintight jeans, all that hair in thick curls, and long lashes. She smelled so fucking good. Her going out looking like that made my stomach turn.
I’m not pissed at her. I’m pissed at Pop. I’m pissed at myself for not speaking my mind. I’m pissed that he took it upon himself to demand something of me that I’m not ready to do. Don’t even get me started on my ex-wife. And I took out all my frustration on Finnley. Guilt gnaws at my chest. I’m such an asshole .
I brace my hands on the counter, letting my head drop between my shoulders. Finn being out without me hurts. Her blowing me off for another man hurts. Instead of talking to her, I used the shoes to make her feel bad. Like a ten-year-old.
I’m just so fucking confused. We had a good time the other night. That video call was hot as fuck, and we talked for an hour straight afterward. We’ve always had a connection, but leave it to me to wrap that shit up in my feelings and make it something it obviously wasn’t.
It’s no one’s fault but my own. I let my mind run crazy the night we got married. The vows. The way she pulled me in and called me ‘husband.’ That kiss. I’ve probably been reading too much into this whole thing. Maybe this really is just sex for her. It is what we agreed to.
It’s been nearly five minutes, and she still hasn’t come inside. Curiosity wins, and against my better judgment, I open the camera app, navigating to the doorbell feed. What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.
When the camera connects, I hear her let out a light laugh.
“Well thanks for dinner, Brad. It was delicious.”
I can only make out the side of his face—since he’s standing just off-center of the camera—and Finn’s back. Brad lifts a hand and wraps it around her waist, his fingers brushing her soft skin. I grip my phone so hard I think the screen will crack.
Two words scream in my mind.
She’s mine.
I’m about to close out of the app when he says, “The night doesn’t have to end here. I could come in, see where things go.” His thumb brushes her back.
This motherfucker. I want to rip his arm off his body and beat him with it.
“My roommate and his daughter are home,” Finn says .
Roommate? What. The. Fuck. A cold sweat breaks out across the back of my neck.
“This was fun, and you’re very sweet, but I think it’s best if we stay friends.”
There’s a beat of silence and I almost cheer when his hand drops away from her waist and he takes a step back. That’s right, asshole, get your hands off her.
“Oh.” He sounds surprised. “If that’s what you want.”
Her voice is weary, and I detect a bit of sadness when she says, “It is.”
“Well, goodnight then, Finnley.” I hate the way her name sounds coming from his mouth.
“Goodnight, Brad.”
I watch her for a couple of seconds, while she watches him head down the walk and climb into his car. When she turns to come inside, I quickly close out of the app, chuck my phone on the counter, and turn on the tap, rinsing out my cereal bowl from earlier. The one I already washed.
I hear the opening and closing of the door across the living area, then the slow click of her heels coming closer.
“Hey,” she says, coming into the kitchen.
I pretend to act startled by her when I turn—because, yes, I’m a child. She sets her bag on the island before stepping out of her heels.
“Back so soon?” I say, turning off the tap and returning my bowl in the dish drainer next to the sink. Yeah, I’m pathetic.
She nods and pulls out a stool, dropping onto it. Then, she tugs her arms out of her sweater, hanging it on the back of the neighboring stool.
“Did you have a good time?”
She shrugs, avoiding my gaze, and pulls her phone from her back pocket, setting it next to mine. “It was fine.”
She has no reason to open up to me after the way I treated her, but if she didn’t want to talk, she’d have gone straight upstairs. I’ve known her for a long time, and when she’s mad, she doesn’t hold back. I lean on my elbows on the counter across from her and wait.
She sighs. “I’m gonna be single forever.” She looks so gloomy, her shoulders slumped forward, eyes down. Her chin quivers and it makes me feel so much worse for how I acted earlier.
“Nah, you won’t,” I say, and she looks up at me. Then, because it’s what we do, I try for a joke. “I mean, I married you,” I say with a wink.
She drops my gaze, picking at the cuticle on her thumb.
Shit. Not even a hint of a smile.
“Why did you tell me to wear those shoes?” Her voice is soft, with a little undercurrent of hurt, and now I really feel like an ass for making light of something that clearly hurt her.
I’m starting to have a love-hate relationship with this space. I never know if what I say will end with my fingers in her mouth or her pissed at me and storming out.
I blow out a breath. “I was a dick.”
“Yes, you were,” she says, straightening her spine and tipping up her chin with a curt nod. She says it so matter-of-factly, I almost chuckle. I love how she’s always able to knock me down a peg with her honesty.
“I had no right to treat you like that. I’m sorry.”
“No, you didn’t.” She shakes her head. Her lips tip down slightly in a frown, and when she raises her eyes back to mine, they’re sparkling with unshed tears. “But what I don’t know is why?”
I push off the counter and take a step back, leaning against the sink. I run a hand down my face and fold my arms across my chest. I’m defensive and I hate it. I have no reason to be. But here we are.
“I had a shit day. Nothing went right this morning, and then Tristen called to cancel her trip.”
Her gaze snaps up to mine. “She did? ”
I nod. “Then, I got into it with Pop about the ranch when I went to pick up Paige.” It wasn’t really a fight with Pop, but it felt like one. “I took it out on you. I’m an asshole.”
She eyes me for a couple of seconds, then nods. She picks her cuticle, avoiding my gaze.
I let out a long breath through my nose. “And I was upset that you were going out.”
Her head lifts slowly and she bites her lip. “Why?”
Encouraged, I take a deep breath and go on. “Everything with us getting married—what happened the other night—it feels like we’re different.” I pause, watching for her reaction, but she just stares at me. “I mean, it was great, but…”
She continues to avoid my gaze, looking down at her hands, which she folds in her lap. “I know.”
“I don’t want shit to be weird between us.” I run a hand through my hair when she looks back up at me.
I hate that we don’t feel like us, that I’ve let my feelings for her affect what we agreed to. I’m jealous as all hell that she’s going out with other men, or that she even wants to.
“I’m sorry I was an asshole about the shoes. You looked incredible and you deserve to have what you want; to find someone you want to be with. Forgive me?”
She chews the inside of her cheek and then eventually nods. I move around the island and take her hand, pulling her into my arms from where she’s seated at the counter. She grumbles for a couple of seconds, but she wraps her arms around my waist, letting me hold her.
“Are we ok?” I ask, resting my chin on the top of her head.
She nods against my chest. “Thank you for apologizing.”
She feels so good in my arms. I almost can’t stand it. I want to take her upstairs and prove to her just how worthy she is of having someone love her, worship her, and take care of her. But after everything, it’s probably not the best idea.
“Of course,” I say instead. I look down at her, brushing her hair back from her shoulders. “You’re amazing and beautiful and I really do mean it when I say any man would be lucky to have you.”
She stares up into my eyes but doesn’t answer.
I drop my arms and step back. If I don’t, I’ll kiss her. And I’ve already done enough tonight. I give her hand a squeeze. “I’m gonna head to bed.”
She blinks away and nods, dropping my hand.
“Night,” I say.
She nods, but when I turn to walk away, her hand snags mine again. Her fingers tighten, stopping me. I look at her, and then down at our joined hands now hanging between us. My eyes meet hers, a silent question in them.
“Even you?” She says it so gently, I’m not sure I didn’t imagine the words.
“Even me, what?” I ask.
She swallows and stands up, crowding so close to me that I back up a step, hitting the counter behind me.
“You said any man would be lucky to have me.” Her expression is unreadable, which is saying something because I know all of her looks; all of her tells. I have for years. “Even you?”
“Of course,” I say.
She nods once and then swallows hard. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and something wars on her face. Indecision, maybe.
“What’s up?“
“Shut up,” she says, breathlessly. Then, she grips the button of her jeans before popping it open. I gape at her like a fish out of water as she pushes them open and shimmies them off her hips. She kicks them out of the way, and she’s left in her panties and black crop top.
My heart pounds in my ears. “What are you—”
Her gaze snaps to mine and she licks her lips before blowing out a breath. “Just…stop talking.”
She shocks the hell out of me when she drops to her knees right there on the hard tile and looks up at me.
What the hell is happening?
Her hands grasp the hem of my T-shirt, pushing it up and exposing my abs. I freeze. I’m so surprised, I couldn’t move If I wanted to. I don’t want to.
“We shouldn’t,” I say, but it’s weak at best.
When the girl of your dreams is on her knees for you, you don’t question it. I know that. Especially when I’m weak as fuck for her. But I’m panicking. I know the second her mouth is on me, there will be no going back.
I manage to stutter out, “You don’t have to do that.” Her eyes lock with mine when her lips touch my skin and I let out a quick pant of air. My hands come up to fist in my hair and my eyelids flutter shut. “Ohhh, shit.”
What the actual fuck is happening?
Am I dreaming? I force my eyes open, and they skate over the living area and kitchen, as if I’ll see myself asleep on the couch. But I’m not asleep. Her lips are on my skin, and I am suddenly harder than I’ve ever been.
“Can you stay quiet?” she says breathlessly against my skin.
She hums, sucking and licking the skin next to my belly button, before moving lower, lighting up my body and melting my brain. She pushes up to the balls of her feet, crouching now. The buckle on my belt makes a distant tinkle as she undoes it, the sound competing with the blood rushing in my ears.
“W–what?” I stammer .
My heart is pounding, and my vision blurs a bit with the sight of her on her knees for me. A real life, years-old fantasy come true. She’s not wearing a bra—she rarely does—and her nipples press against the thin cotton of her top, bare thighs spread, skin for days as she crouches in front of me. I barely register a flash of black nail polish and a silver toe ring.
She rests her hand on my waistband, curled inside slightly, and her eyes flash to mine. “Can. You. Stay. Quiet, Hudson?” The words are a slow, commanding question.
Goddamn.
I’ll sew my fucking mouth shut if it gets her to say my name like that again and wrap those fuckable lips around my cock.
My answering nod is jerky in anticipation. “I–I think so.”
A sexy smirk tips up her beautiful, pouty lips. “Put your hands on the counter.”
I immediately obey, gripping the edge of the countertop behind me so tightly my knuckles go white. I’m a weak man. Weak. As. Fuck.
“Mm,” she hums, reaching for the button on my jeans. “Stay right there, while I take out this perfect cock so I can taste you.”
”Oh, Christ.” I swallow hard, my heart feels like it will rip right through my chest with how hard it’s beating. “Oh, God. This is really happening.”
I scrub a hand over my face, and she stops, flicking her eyes up to mine. “Hands, Hudson.”
Her use of my name again is hot as fuck and this commanding side of her is a new development that I do not hate. Not even a little.
“F–fuck. Sorry. Ok. Yes,” I mumble and grip the counter again.
“Good boy.” It somehow comes out low and sultry and I don’t know why my best friend calling me a good boy turns me on so much, but her words hit me straight in the cock and are further punctuated by the drag of my zipper .
I grip onto the counter as she jerks open my fly. My body moves with her deliberate movements, my eyes never leaving her face. She pulls down my boxer briefs just enough to pull out my cock, then hums appreciatively. She wastes no time diving in. She licks me from root to tip, then rolls her tongue in her mouth with a sexy moan when she laps up the bead of precum there.
She runs the length of me over her tongue, the wet heat electrifying my senses. Her lips drag over my cock when she pulls me back out. My eyes cross and my head falls back. I want to watch her, but I can’t. There’s not enough blood in my upper body to keep my head up.
“Ohhh... Fuck, Finn. Fuuck ,” I moan. “That's... Damn.” I swallow hard, my mouth feels like the Sahara when she pulls me back in, further this time. “Holy fucking shit, that’s good,” I pant out, squeezing my eyes shut.
When she moans, the vibrations race over my shaft.
I make the mistake of looking down at her, and the sight of her lips stretched around me almost makes me come. My cock disappears into her mouth, and she sucks on the head.
“Shit, ok.” I swallow hard again and blink a few times, gripping the counter behind me as tightly as I can. “Ok. Ok. Handsome Rob. J-Jonas Taylor. Frank Martin. Lee C–Christmas. Fuck .”
She comes off my dick with an audible pop, a sassy dark brow cocked at me and amusement dancing in her brown eyes. She chuckles lightly. “Are you really thinking about Jason Statham with my mouth on your cock?”
“Mm, fuck yes, I am. Trying…not…to come,” I grit out, more than a little breathless.
She bites down on that pillowy bottom lip, and the slow drag of her teeth across it will be my undoing. “Why are you trying not to come?”
“Because it’s too fucking good and, Jesus, baby, I don’t know where you learned to suck dick, but I’m trying really hard not to disrespect you right now.”
Her eyebrows draw together and her smile fades. “What? ”
I shift my hips and attempt to not seem like a desperate fucker trying to get her mouth back on me. But that’s what I am. So fucking desperate for it. I can’t think straight. What was the question?
I shake my head, trying to focus. My dick is so hard, a light breeze would push me over the edge. “Sorry, what?”
She laughs lightly, clearly amused by my lust-induced stupor. “You said you’re trying hard to not disrespect me.”
I nod, and then jerk in a breath when she runs her thumb over the head of my cock. She traces the ridge lightly, before sucking her thumb into her mouth. Shit, that’s hot.
“Because you’re you.” I lick my lips, hoping to restore some moisture there, but it’s no fucking use. “It’s us.”
“But what do you mean ‘disrespect me’?”
I shake my head, and when she gives a long, slow pull to my cock, I thrust my hips, fucking into her hand with a groan. I can’t think of anything other than getting her mouth back on me.
“Nothing. Never mind. Just keep—”
“I’m not going to break. Stop treating me like I’m fragile.”
I swallow, then quickly shake my head, eyes on the hand she’s working me over with. “I’m not.”
She moves both hands to my hips, standing up, and I almost weep at the loss of seeing her kneeling in front of me. Her chest brushes mine before she whispers, “Yes, you are. Tell me what you meant.”
I swallow hard. Her eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them, her lashes ridiculously long. She’s so fucking beautiful, it almost hurts to look at her. Full lips swollen and glistening with saliva from having her mouth on me—her gorgeous, fuckable mouth.
She’s my best friend, but I’ve never wanted so badly to be more than that than I do in this moment. She’s been my friend, my confidant, and my literal rock the last two years. But I want more. I want to be the center of her universe, like she’s been mine for years. I’m a man who is 1,000 percent obsessed.
Our bodies are centimeters apart, and my eyes drop back to her mouth. What I’m about to say—what I want to do to her—will change everything. But maybe that’s what we both need.
Reaching up, I cup her cheeks, not at all gently. I can’t fucking help it. My molars clamp together. I use my thumbs to push her puffy lips open, loving the way they look as I press them open against her teeth. It’s harsh and I grit my teeth at my lack of self-control.
"I’ve wondered what it would be like to fuck this mouth for months. Years, if I’m honest.”
She lets out a quiet gasp, her eyes searching mine. “Really?” she breathes out.
I nod roughly. “I want to make a mess of you. I want to fucking wreck you.”
She licks her lips and her tongue grazes my thumb. Some animalistic sound vibrates deep in my chest. That fucking mouth. Her tongue finds my thumb again and I let her suck it into her mouth. Her teeth scrape the underside as I pull it free and drag it across her lips.
“Do it,” she whispers.
I search her face for any trace of hesitation.
Louder, she says, “Disrespect me, Hudson. I want it. I need it. Whatever you’ve been thinking about, I promise you, I want it. Make a mess of me. Wreck me.”
Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine, waiting. Her breathing is fast and shallow. Her nipples are hard against the thin cotton of her shirt.
Her tongue swipes along her bottom lip before she whispers, “ Please .”
It’s a quiet plea, and that’s all I need. One word, and I’m done fucking around.