“Yeah. Yeah, of course it’s okay.” My socked foot drew circles on my tiled floor. “Like… now?”
Through the phone, his laugh was even sexier. Deeper and rougher. “I’ve been trying to go slow, take our time.” He paused and cleared his throat. “But I miss holding you.”
“I do too,” I admitted. It’d only been one night. But it’d been the best night of sleep I could have had after all I shared with him, and that was due to him. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be up.”
“See you soon.”
I ended the call and dropped the phone onto the counter. A squeal I couldn’t contain fell free, surprising myself.
Huh. Apparently, I was the kind of girl who squeals. Shaking off the thought, I hurried to the bathroom where I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I quickly fluffed my hair and then went to the bedroom. Hudson had sounded like he was already in bed. Possibly wearing nothing but shorts or boxers. I was already dressed in flannel pants striped with a rainbow of colors and an old men’s sweatshirt in a size large I found at Goodwill. Underneath, I wore nothing, so I quickly whipped off the sweatshirt, tugged on a tight, thin T-shirt I wore to bed in the summer and threw the sweatshirt back on.
After grabbing my keys and phone, and locking my door behind me, the wait for the elevator took seventy-two thousand minutes.
The ride up took longer.
The short walk to Hudson’s door lasted hours.
But then his door opened, and he was in the doorway, hair messed, eyes sleepy. It was his chest, on bare display that held my attention. Time suddenly flew in fast forward because one second I was in the hallway and the next Hudson had pulled me into his condo, into his arms, and he was hugging me.
“You okay?” I asked again. This was so unlike him. Not that I was complaining, but there was something so ferociously needy in his embrace.
“Yeah.” He kissed my forehead and inhaled deeply. “I want my sheets to smell like your shampoo. Is that weird?”
“Little bit.” I laughed. “Why can’t you sleep?”
Why do you need me? I wasn’t brave enough to ask the real question on the tip of my tongue.
“Long day. Long week ahead, that’s all.”
“Work?”
“Mostly. Come on.” He led me toward his bedroom. My pulse thrummed with anticipation. I took in the artwork of a lone ship on a vast lake above his bed, the windows that were closed with navy blue and cream curtains that also matched his heavy duvet cover, thrown back and messy with cream sheets below. His furniture was walnut, or something close to the dark brown hue. All masculine. All dark and heavy. And all done with elegance that was so perfectly Hudson.
I toed off my slippers I’d thrown on and then removed my oversized sweatshirt. It was Hudson, standing there watching me that made me pause. We were going to spend the night together. Intentionally. This wasn’t because I was bawling my eyes out and Hudson felt bad for me and didn’t want me to be alone.
This was because he’d wanted—maybe, needed—me.
I was so inept, so inexperienced, fear and nerves twisted their way through my veins, rooting me to my spot.
“Hey.”
He came to me, squeezing my hand, and hadn’t let go until he was in front of me, peering down at me, his dark eyes dancing back and forth between mine. “Nervous?”
“A little.”
“There’s no need for that.” As he spoke, he slid his hand up my arm, to my shoulder and the side of my neck until his fingers were pressed to my scalp. His head dipped down, and he pressed his lips so gently against mine, they might as well have been a feather for as light as it was.
It still made me tremble like the force of an earthquake from top to toe.
I reached for him, hands falling to his waist, and he started walking backward. I followed him easily this time, letting him lead me with quiet, sexy confidence while he continued to kiss me, teasing, soft nips that only sent a craving for more deeper inside me.
He pulled me with him until his legs hit the bed and he sat down, bringing me with him until I straddled his hips, sat on his waist, felt how much he wanted more than just kisses against at my center.
“Hudson.”
“Shit.” He groaned and shoved his mouth into the crook of my neck. “This isn’t why I wanted you here. I really do want to take this slow, and tonight, I just wanted to hold you again.”
His breath came in heavy, thick pants. He might have wanted to take things slow because his chivalry demanded it, but his body and actions told a different story. I ran my hands across his broad, bare shoulders. His skin felt electrified, zapping heat to my fingertips with every brush along his muscled skin.
Hudson pulled back, gave me a coy smile. I didn’t have time to ask what he was up to before he said “hold on” and immediately shifted, rolling us so I was on my back and he hovered over me.
All nerves from climbing into bed with him were gone and as he smiled down at me, new nerves took their place.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman here,” he whispered, kissing my cheek, my jaw, my lips.
“I didn’t ask for that.” My breath was thready. My voice raspy.
“Not tonight,” he murmured against my lips.
I dug fingers into his hair to hold him to me. My body was ready. So was the rest of me. Somehow, over the weeks, with his gentle guidance, Hudson had gotten me to trust him. In a way I believed he would never do anything to hurt me.
He indulged, kissing me longer, swiping his tongue into my mouth where I eagerly accepted him. His body collapsed, giving me his weight and my heart skittered out of control with the feel of him against me.
This was no more than we’d done on my couch, or his, make-out sessions reminding me of high school and carefree summer nights but we weren’t kids, and we were in his bed.
I slid my legs apart, allowing him to fall between them and as he did, his hardness rubbed against my center through my pajama pants I hadn’t yet removed.
God. I wanted nothing between us. I wanted us stripped bare to enjoy each other freely.
His hips rolled, pressed against me, and he groaned into my mouth at the feel of it.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Please.”
Hudson shook his head, pulled back from the kiss. “You’re killing me.”
I wrapped a hand around his wrist at my cheek. “Why do you keep stopping?”
Blinking up at him, I swore I saw a moment of hesitation before he shook his head, clearing his thoughts. I was afraid he was going to push me away again, but his hand drifted down. He had a hand at my hip, thumb brushing beneath the waistband of my pajama pants and he glanced up, hair a mess, inky black eyes setting me on fire with the urgent desire in them. “Have you… ever?”
Of course. That was his hesitation. I was barely eighteen when I was sent to prison. Of course he’d think I was a virgin.
“Once.” I cleared my throat. I wasn’t embarrassed. If I could have said no to give that to this man, I would have easily. “Before.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. You couldn’t.” I leaned up and pulled him to me right as I saw a pained expression in his eyes before he closed them.
“Let me take care of you then. Can I?”