Once he’d tossed aside the torn material, he shifted his hands under my ass and lifted me on top of him. I was so wet; I slid down on him easily, sheathing him entirely.
“Oh, god, Hudson!” I could feel him so completely at that angle, his throbbing cock hitting against the wall of my vagina, making me writhe on top of him. I sat forward on my knees so that I could push off of him again, lifting and lowering at a frenetic speed that was more reminiscent of the way Hudson rode me, not the way I rode him.
My orgasm came without warning, ripping through me out of nowhere, slowing my pace. I fought to keep the momentum as the waves overtook me, shaking me and shattering me until I gave up with a long cry of pleasure.
I was barely aware of the chair rolling until the desk pressed into my back and Hudson took over the driving. He thrust into me with skill and precision, my legs wrapping around his waist as he shifted our position, the seat behind him serving as a place for him to fall rather than actual support.
When my vision cleared, I noticed the windows behind me. Though we were on the penthouse level of the building and it was highly unlikely that anyone was looking in, it was still possible and the realization added a profound level of eroticism. The delicious tension had just begun building again, intensifying exponentially when Hudson spilled inside me with a deep primal groan.
He gave himself no time to recover before he laid me across the desk. Pushing aside the chair, he knelt between my thighs, propping my ankles on the edge of the desk. I was naked and spread wide in front of the windows, in front of my lover—I was near my second climax before Hudson’s tongue ever touched me.
He didn’t tease or go slow like he often did when he ate me out, but sucked and licked at my clit with urgent strokes of his tongue. I came instantly and still he continued. It was too much—too intense for my heightened senses and my hips bucked away.
“Once more,” Hudson said before renewing his attack.
“No!” I writhed but his hands held firm to my ankles. “I can’t take it.”
“Once more.” He was insistent, not to be swayed, but he did redirect his approach, moving away from the singing ball of nerves and plunging his tongue into my hole instead.
My hands flew to his head, clutching fistfuls of hair as he worked me toward yet another high, his tongue licking up my slit back to my clit then down to plunge in again at my core.
Somewhere in the part of my brain that could still formulate thought, I knew what he was doing—he was thanking me, showing me how happy I’d made him by deciding to live with him. His own climax had come quickly, but he could get hard again. I knew this from experience. He probably already was hard again as it turned him on to no end to go down on me. Yet, instead of burying himself inside me, he was giving me all the pleasure. It was a message, and I got it loud and clear.
His endeavor slowed, but his ardor remained. The next orgasm came more reluctantly and he pulled it out of me with sweet, drawn-out dedication until I went over the edge, shivering as the warmth spread outward to my limbs, curling my toes.
Hudson stayed between my legs until I’d calmed, licking me and lavishing me with soft praise while my heart rate returned to normal.
Then he stood and carried me to the couch, laying me down.
He gazed at me, his eyes still half-closed with desire as he stripped naked. I was right—he was hard again, hard and throbbing. He lay beside me, wrapping his arms around me. Smoothing my hair with sensuous strokes, he spoke low at my ear. “I know it’s scary and our situation hasn’t been ideal, but you are everything good for me. Nothing in this world is important to me beyond you. I can be the same for you. I know it. And I’m so grateful you’ve given me the chance to prove it.”
I shifted to face him. “You have nothing to prove. You’re already everything good for me, too.”
“Shh.” He kissed my forehead. “Not yet. I haven’t been able to give you everything you need yet.”
My mind scrambled to figure out what he possibly thought I needed that he hadn’t given me. The three words. That was the only thing I could settle on. But I knew them even if he didn’t say them. I knew them with every fiber of my being.
“It’s okay, Hudson. It’s—”
He cut me off. “It’s not. But I need you to know that I’m trying and I’m not going to stop trying until I get there. Do you hear me? Don’t give up on me.” He was vehement, his expression frantic.
“I’m not giving up on you.” I reached my palm up to caress his face and he leaned into my touch. “Why would I do that? I love you, Hudson. So much.”
His eyes closed tight, almost as if my statement were painful to him. “I don’t deserve your love. I don’t think I ever will.”
“You deserve more than I can ever give you.”
“We have a difference of opinion on that. We’ll have to agree to disagree. Again.” He pushed at my shoulder. “Turn,” he ordered.
I shifted to face the back of the couch and immediately felt Hudson’s thick erection pressing behind me. Lifting my leg up and back around him, he slid into me again. “This time,” he whispered between kisses at my neck, “we’re going to take it slow.”
Chapter Fifteen
As I imagined would be the case, Hudson was eager for my moving in to commence immediately. Correction—immediately after another round of lovemaking. Bursting with an excitement I’d never seen from him before, he made arrangements with “his people,” and by the end of Saturday, the relatively few things I owned had been boxed and brought over to The Bowery. It happened so fast that the anxiety of it didn’t even have time to overwhelm me, and whenever I felt it creeping up, I simply promised to deal with it at my Addicts Anonymous session on Monday.
It was easy to unpack. Almost all my belongings fit in the extra closet in the bedroom—our bedroom. Only one item, a hope chest that had belonged to my mother, found its way to the extra room. I was completely settled by Sunday evening, and the sore muscles I boasted were not from carrying boxes but from other physical activity.
Monday came too soon, yet wasn’t dreadful since I adored our wake-up routine. Our cell alarms going off in tandem, a quickie in the shower, getting ready side by side at the twin sinks, sharing a fast bite at the kitchen table—all of it rocked. The still thrilling newness of it combined with the security of knowing the situation wasn’t temporary sent me to the club with a spring in my step, a rarity for me since I had never been anything near a morning person.
Since I was in such a good mood, I began my workday by tackling what felt like the most daunting of my tasks: rescheduling with Aaron Trent. I had suspected that the only reason he’d agreed to meet with me in the first place was because of Hudson. When he’d canceled on Friday night, my suspicions were confirmed. All it would take was one call from my boyfriend and I knew the meeting would be back on. But I wanted to do it myself.
Since I didn’t have a direct phone number to Trent’s office, and I didn’t want to ask Hudson, I had to use the agency number listed on his website. It took two transfers before I reached Trent’s assistant. “I need to make an appointment with Aaron Trent. Is that something you can help me with?”
The voice on the other end was bubbly and professional. “I can take your information, but I’ll have to check with him before any meeting time is approved.”
“That makes sense.” I ran my hand over my face. Why on earth did I ever think I’d be able to get to talk to the man myself? Despite the futility of it, I delivered my information. “This is Alayna Withers from The Sky—”
“Ms. Withers,” Bubbly Professional cut me off. “I didn’t realize it was you. Mr. Trent said if you called that we could go ahead and reschedule for whenever would be most convenient for you.”
“Oh. Okay.” So maybe he hadn’t been planning to bail on me after all. I was pleasantly surprised. Not that I was fooled that his eagerness to meet had anything to do with me and nothing to do with whom I was sleeping with, but I also knew if I had him in
front of me, I could impress the balls off the guy.
We made arrangements for an evening later in the week, but before I hung up, I asked the question itching on my tongue. “Hey, do you have any idea why Mr. Trent canceled to begin with? I know it’s none of my business. Just curious.”
Bubbly Professional seemed surprised. “Mr. Trent didn’t cancel. Some woman from your club called Friday afternoon and said something had come up. I’d assumed it was you.”
That was impossible. No one even knew I had the meeting that night except for David and Hudson. And last I checked, neither of them were women. “It wasn’t me. Are you sure?”
“Yep. I took the call myself.”
Either someone had canceled my meeting on Friday without my permission or I was seriously being pranked. Whichever it was, Bubbly Professional didn’t need to hang on the line while I figured it out. “My mistake. Thank you and please apologize to Mr. Trent for any inconvenience it may have caused him.”
“Honestly,” her voice lowered as if she were sharing a secret, “this worked out better for him. He would have had to miss out on a daddy daughter dance if you’d kept the Friday appointment, and Rachel’s the type of girl that doesn’t take disappointment well. So you kind of did him a favor by canceling.”
Ah, so it was probably Rachel Trent who canceled. I’d never been close to my father, but I could appreciate her wanting to be with her dad. I’d definitely done things equally as manipulative as a teen.
I thanked Bubbly Professional for the information, hung up the phone, and moved on to the other items on my day’s agenda.
It was nearly three when the bell rang at the service entrance. I checked the camera feed since we weren’t expecting any deliveries. It was Liesl.
“Be right there,” I told her through the intercom then ran down to let her in.
I opened the door and opened my arms for Liesl to give me a bear hug. She was one of the only people I allowed to touch me so intimately and only on my terms.
“What are you doing here so early?” I asked into her hair. “Do you work tonight?”
“Nope. Off tonight.” She let me go to give me a high five. “We could hang out later, if you want.”
“I do want. I have group at five-thirty. Maybe after that?”
“Groovy. I just had coffee with some friends next door. They want me to go to a concert with them so I came by to check out next week’s schedule. Is it up yet?”
“Yeah, I think I saw it. Come on up.”
We climbed the back stairs to the office. I found the schedule on David’s mess of a desk and turned around to hand it to her and jumped when I saw a figure in the doorway. Another half second and I realized it was Hudson. I’d almost forgotten he had his own set of keys.
“Hi! What are you doing here?” It was a nice surprise to see him unannounced in the middle of the day, though also odd.
His expression was even. “You need to come with me.”
“Why? What’s up?” I took a step toward him before I recognized the tension in his body, the firm set of his jaw, the light missing from his eyes. “Hey, are you mad at me?” He’d never truly been upset with me before. Not like this, where the anger rolled off him in waves so thick it was almost palpable.
“Get your things and come.” He spit out the words, as if it was difficult to speak civilly.
“That bossy thing is so hot.” Liesl didn’t even bother whispering.
Admittedly there were times I thought the bossy thing was definitely so hot. This was not one of them. His tone and body language scared me. I didn’t believe he’d ever hurt me—not physically, and not on purpose—but his agitated state suggested he didn’t have control of himself.
I crossed my hands over my chest defiantly. “Hudson, I’m not leaving just because you say so. I need more information.”
“Alayna, I’m not doing this here.” He was shaking. I’d never seen him so upset. “You will get your things and come. Now.” It wasn’t a suggestion. It wasn’t an invitation. It wasn’t even an order. It was fact. It was what I would do, as expected as my next breath.
He had to know.
The certainty rushed through me at lightning speed, leaving me dizzy and weak.
I couldn’t say how or which of my secrets he’d discovered, but there was no doubt in my mind that he had found something out, and I understood with irrefutable conviction that if I had any real interest in our relationship then I needed to do as he said. Hudson had reasons to be mad at me—very real, very valid reasons. And if I wanted to salvage what we had, I’d have to take his wrath. I deserved it. I owed it to him.
I started toward my purse, ready to leave at his side when I remembered Liesl. “I, I have an employee here and I’m the only other person here. David’s not due in until five.”
“It’s fine, Laynie.” Liesl flashed me the palm of her hand and I could see pen marks that I guessed were her schedule. “I got what I needed. I’ll leave with you.”
It was almost comical that Liesl didn’t understand the gravity of Hudson’s mood, that she took it for granted that his behavior was commonplace and that I welcomed it. But I was too mortified to laugh. Too deeply disgraced.
I swallowed down the thick ball in my throat and looked to Hudson, not meeting his eyes. “I need to close everything up. I unlocked the bar when I got a soft drink earlier and the computers are still up—”
Hudson’s hands were balled into fists at his sides. His patience was wearing. “Text David and tell him I required you to leave on short notice. Alarm the main door. It’ll be fine.” Tersely, he added, “I doubt David will care.”
Was it David, then? Was that what this was about? Or was I reading into things?
I was in a daze as we walked out, my feet moving automatically while Liesl chatted nonstop about the new bartender. I’m sure that I nodded and said, “Uh-huh,” at the appropriate times because she didn’t call me out on my lack of attention.
At the door, it took me three tries before my unsteady hands entered the alarm code correctly. We stepped outside into the daylight, the sun blinding after the dark of the club. Liesl squeezed my hand in goodbye. “I’ll take a rain check on that girls’ night out. Have fun with Mr. Dominant.” She wiggled her eyebrows before she took off toward the subway station.
I looked to the curb and realized there were no familiar cars waiting for us. When I turned back to Hudson, he was walking toward the other shops, already several feet away. I jogged to catch up with him but slowed my speed before I got to his side. It was easier to avoid his gaze if I were a step behind him.
We walked in silence and my mind struggled to get a grip on the situation. We were headed to Central Parking. He must have driven himself, probably parked in one of the club’s designated parking spots. He usually only drove himself for sport, and he didn’t really seem in the “for sport” mood. He must be driverless for another reason. Like, he’d been so worked up he couldn’t even wait for a ride to be arranged. He simply took off, in a rage. I tried to imagine it—him at his office, immersed in working when—what? What had happened to make him drop everything and drive himself to find me? But wasn’t that the million dollar question? Well, we were talking about Hudson Pierce—100 million dollar question was more like it.
At the garage, Hudson clicked the security button on his key ring, and the Maybach announced its presence, parked, as I’d guessed, in one of the club’s two VIP spots that were rarely taken. Despite his chilly attitude, he opened the passenger door for me and reminded me to text David before walking around to the driver’s side.
I punched a quick message into my phone that I prayed made sense without sounding like I was in trouble. But wasn’t I? In big trouble?
No, why should I be? Just because I was in love with the man, because we had some unspoken commitment to each other that I had broken with my secrets—none of that meant that I had to sit by like a wayward child waiting for her punishment. I was a big girl. Sure, I had to take responsib
ility for my actions, but I didn’t deserve to be in the dark, handled with hostility and rage.
We’d just pulled out of the garage when I decided to take a stand. “What’s going on?” I was met with silence. “Hudson?”
“I’m not ready to talk about this yet.” The vein in his neck twitched. I’d never seen him like that. Not even when he’d accused me of being involved with David.
David. If I had to make a guess, I was betting that was the source of his ire. Still, I played it cautiously, giving nothing away, even though a part of me wanted to spill everything, tell Hudson every little moment of betrayal. But I was too frightened that I’d lose him, so instead I delivered a generic plea. “Whatever it is I did, I’m sorry. I’m sorry and I’ll do whatever I have to do to fix it.”
A cabbie honked as Hudson switched lanes, pulling out in front of him. “Alayna, I can’t talk about this while I’m driving.”
He accelerated through a yellow light and I braced myself against the console. “Yeah, good idea. Focus on the road because you’re scaring me.”
The look he shot me was pure fury. “Good. Maybe you should be scared.”
I didn’t try to talk after that. His driving didn’t improve, even in the silence, and I was grateful it was a short distance to The Bowery. I hadn’t even been aware the underground parking existed until we’d entered the tunnel and parked next to his Mercedes. Huh, I’d wondered where he kept that when he wasn’t using it.
Being with Hudson, I’d gotten used to doors being opened for me, but I hopped out the minute the car stopped. He might be mad, and I might deserve it, but I didn’t have to take it like a pussy.
We rode the elevator in sharp silence. In the penthouse, Hudson headed straight for the bar. I followed, my arms folded over my chest, and waited for him to decide that he was ready to talk.
He’d poured and drank half of his Scotch before facing me. “Tell me one thing. One thing and think carefully before you answer because I want to believe what you tell me.” His voice was even, measured.