He was calling me out on that now.
And I wouldn’t let him down. “Okay,” I said.
“Good. Now let’s do this.” With one hand still pulling my hair, he moved his other to my clit where he rubbed with expert circles. “Hold on to the desk.”
I moved my hands to grip the edge of the desk. He picked up the tempo of his thrusts, his tip knocking against the same spot on the inside that his thumb massaged on the outside. The sensation in that one concentrated area built quickly. Soon, I felt the tightening in my lower belly, and my limbs began to tingle.
And Hudson was feeling it too. “God, Alayna. Your pussy feels so good. So tight. You make me so hard. I’m going to come so hard.” He quickened the pace again, and the sound of our bodies slapping and his sex words pushed me higher and higher and higher.
When I was about to orgasm, he urged my hips up and drove into me with staccato jabs that sent us over together with a shared moan. He rubbed into me for several long seconds, spilling everything he had, my own fluids mixing with his.
“Better?” he asked before I’d even caught my breath.
“Yes. Much.” But even as I was still soaring on the tails of my climax, I recognized that I’d just done the thing I’d always accused him of—used sex to solve a problem. “I, um, I’m sorry about—”
“Shh.” He put a finger to my lips and smiled. “It’s nice to be on the opposite side for once.”
“Well, thank you.” I kissed his finger then laced my hands around his neck.
“Anytime you need it, I’m happy to fuck away your woes.”
I laughed. After cleaning up and putting my panties back on, I left him to begin the tasks he felt were necessary for our protection.
Celia was nowhere in sight as I climbed into the back of the Maybach, but I shuddered, still feeling her eyes on me from the last time I’d been in the car. Hudson believed he could rid her from our lives. And I had total faith in him.
But I loved the man more than I’d loved anyone. It was totally plausible that my faith was biased.
Chapter Seven
Instead of going back to the club, I decided to call it a day. Besides, Hudson and I had planned that morning to be home to eat dinner together, and even though the new developments of the afternoon were keeping him at work late, I didn’t want to waste the cook’s efforts.
At the penthouse, I put our dinner trays in the warmer and sat at the dining room table nibbling on my salad while I tried to concentrate on a new book. I’d picked Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence, hoping it would help me focus on the romantic and sexual aspects of my life rather than the dread Celia had instilled.
But reading required more attention than I was able to devote to the task. Giving up, I tossed the book on the table. A blank business card poked out between the pages at the bottom. I hadn’t seen it before—throwing the book must have jostled the card from where it was lodged inside. I flipped the book open to the page the card marked and then turned the card over to see if the other side was also blank.
It wasn’t. And the name on the back almost made me drop the card.
With a hand on my chest, I talked myself down from my panic attack. Hudson had ordered the books from Celia and her design company—it was only natural that she’d stick her business card between the pages.
Except the books were new. And the page that the card had marked had a quote highlighted in yellow: “She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.”
Had Celia marked that quote? And had she meant it for me or for Hudson? And whoever the intended target was, what did she mean by it?
“Good book?”
I jumped at Hudson’s voice behind me. I’d been too absorbed in the book and Celia’s mark on it to hear him come in.
He leaned down to kiss my neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“It’s not that. Look.” I showed him the card and held the book up for him. “I found this business card in this book—it’s one of the ones you got me. And this quote is highlighted.”
I felt Hudson’s body heating with rage. He crumpled the card in his hand and threw it across the room. “Goddammit!”
“What does it mean?”
“Who knows?” He took a deep breath and reined in his fury. “You know what? Don’t even think about it. That’s what she wants. She wants it to mess with you.” He grabbed the book from me and took it with him to the kitchen. “Have you eaten?”
“I waited for you. It’s in the warmer.” I sat quietly until he returned with our dinner plates. “You took her key away, right?”
Hudson set our plates down. “She didn’t just leave that in your book now. This has to be from before. When she had the boxes delivered.” He disappeared again into the kitchen.
That hadn’t been an answer to my question and his avoidance made me nervous. I waited until he came back, this time with a bottle of wine.
“Hudson—her key?”
“Yes. I took away her key.” He poured me a glass and then one for himself. He had his half finished before I’d even taken one sip. “The day after she made the delivery.”
He hadn’t told me about seeing her then. But I’d seen Celia many times without telling him so I supposed it was fair.
Instead of dwelling on why he’d never mentioned it, I thought about what else he’d said—that she must have put the note in the books before they’d been delivered. There were hundreds of books. How had I happened to find the one with the note? Unless there were more. “So there could be secret notes and messages in all of the books.”
Hudson took another swallow of his wine—a swallow that finished off the glass. “I’ll replace them all.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Truthfully, I was already planning to search them. Curiosity was pretty much my middle name, after all.
Hudson refilled his drink. “I’ll do it anyway.”
He had made up his mind and when he made up his mind, there was no arguing with him.
I glanced at the clock on my phone. It was after eight. “You got home late. Does that mean you came up with ideas on how to deal with her?”
Hudson didn’t look at me as he took a bite of his fish. “I have something in the works,” he said when he’d swallowed. “But I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”
“Um, yes, I do mind. This affects me and I want to know what’s going on.” If he thought he was doing this on his own, he had another think coming.
“You know what you need to know. I’ve hired security, the new cameras are being installed at the club tomorrow, and I have some preliminary ideas to try to make Celia lose interest in her game.” His entire demeanor was dismissive.
And my demeanor was getting pissed off. “Ideas that you aren’t going to share?”
“No. I’m not.”
I set my fork down, a little more forcefully than I’d intended. Or maybe exactly as forcefully as I’d intended. “Hudson—transparency, honesty—remember? Are you hiding something from me? Is it illegal?”
“No. And no. And you said you trusted me.” He raised a brow. “Remember?”
“I do trust you. But we’re supposed to be in this together and this is not together. This is you keeping me in the dark while you go play superhero. Or I assume you’re playing superhero, because I don’t really know.”
He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked at me directly. “We are in this together, Alayna. And I’ll tell you. Just not now.” He covered my hand with his own. “I’d rather spend my evening with you. Alone.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that he needed a rest from the subject. It was how he dealt with things—internally and on his own. We both needed to learn to work things out as a couple. But he’d said he’d tell me later. Maybe tonight I could let it go too.
I turned my palm up to lace my fingers through his. “Okay. No more talk of Celia.”
We exchanged smiles. Then Hudson let go of my hand to con
tinue his meal.
We sat in silence for several long minutes. Hudson finished most of his plate while I poked at my food, my appetite long gone. I could agree not to talk about Celia, but that didn’t mean I could stop thinking about her. She’d penetrated so deeply into our relationship—did she realize that she consumed our thoughts? That our time together was now so intertwined with her that we were practically a threesome?
Hudson swirled his wine in his glass and watched me. “Now you’re quiet.”
I chuckled. “I don’t know what else to talk about.”
He ran his hand across his face and I knew he was thinking the same thoughts I’d been thinking—about how we couldn’t even have a simple meal without Celia there. He opened his mouth to say something, and for a moment, I thought he was going to go ahead and let her win.
But then his face changed and he became resolved. “Well, let’s see. I know how today went. What’s on your agenda for tomorrow? You’re interviewing Gwenyth, right?”
“Her name’s Gwenyth? Hmm.” That was the first time I’d heard her full name. And it bothered me. Hudson was not one to use nicknames.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. But I couldn’t help myself from pursuing it. “I’ve heard you call her Gwen.”
He shrugged. “That’s what she goes by.”
“You never call people by their nicknames.” My irritation was showing.
And so was his. “Are you suggesting it means something that I use hers?”
“No.” Why did this bother me so much? “I don’t know.” It was Celia. The mood had been set and now, even as we tried to move past it, we struggled.
It was my turn to sigh. “I’m just tense. I’m sorry.”
“I know. I am too.” Hudson took another swallow of his wine. “I don’t know why I call her Gwen. I knew her as that first. I suppose it’s in my brain now.”
“You don’t need to explain.” But I was glad he had.
I took a sip from my own glass, trying to focus on something that wasn’t going to piss either of us off. He’d asked about my agenda for the next day...fuck. I remembered something we needed to talk about. But it was definitely not going to be a pleasant conversation. Might as well get it over with.
“About tomorrow…” I began tentatively. “I do have plans I should tell you about.”
“You better not be planning a run in Central Park. Your new bodyguard will tackle you down.” His tone was light, but his eyes said he was serious.
“I said I wouldn’t run outside. Trust me works both ways, you know. Do I get to meet this bodyguard? Is he also very attractive but unavailable because he’s gay?”
Hudson smirked. “That’s not even a little funny.”
I knocked his knee playfully under the table. “It totally is and you know it.”
“I’ll introduce you on his shift tomorrow. He’s not gay. And I trust you so I’m not worried about whether or not he’s attractive.”
“Good boy.”
“Now what do you need to tell me?” He took a bite of his risotto and pinned his attention on me.
I paused, hating to destroy the lighter mood. “I’m, um, having lunch with Mira tomorrow. And Jack.”
Hudson froze, his fork mid-air. “What did you say?”
The look on his face said he’d heard me fine. But I played along, trying to sound more confident the second time around. “I’m having lunch with your sister and father.”
“Like hell you are.” His eyes blazed with fury.
His reaction wasn’t a surprise, but I fought not to get immediately defensive. “I’m guessing it’s the Jack part that has you upset and not the Mira part.”
His jaw twitched. “I’m not upset about any of it because you are not having lunch with my father.”
With as much lightheartedness as I could muster, I said, “I’m not sure you can tell me what I am and am not doing.”
“Oh, yes, I can.”
I groaned, running my hands through my hair. “Hudson, this is ridiculous. I’ve told you before, I’m not Celia. I’m not going to sleep with your father—even if he comes on to me. Which he won’t because your baby sister will be there.”
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it on his plate. “Why do you even need to spend time with him?”
“I don’t need to. I didn’t plan to. Mira didn’t want to be alone with him, and so I offered to be a buffer.”
“She doesn’t need a buffer. Cancel your date and have coffee with her later. Just Mira.”
I considered for about half a second. Then I abandoned that and started to get angry. “I don’t want to cancel. I want to have lunch with Mira. And Jack. I like him. Not because I’m into him, but because he’s your father. And I don’t have a father anymore and bonding with Jack makes me feel good.” My voice cracked, but I kept on. “Maybe he’s not a great replacement, but he’s the closest thing I have. Plus, knowing him helps me feel closer to you. And when you keep things from me, H, I need all the access to you I can get.”
“Alayna…”
Immediately I felt bad. “That last part was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”
Hudson pushed his chair away from the table. Then he reached over and pulled me into his lap.
This was better. The tension that had hung thickly in the air began to dissipate.
He ran his hand up and down my arm. “I’m not keeping things from you, Alayna. Really, I’m not. I just want a night without…her.”
“I know,” I said, burrowing deeper into his chest.
“And please, don’t use my father to get close to me. He’s not the road to my heart.”
“Where is the road to your heart?”
With one finger, he lifted my chin to meet his eyes. “Don’t you know? You’re the one who paved it.”
I bit back tears, not wanting to spoil the moment with crying. “Don’t think I’m going to cancel my lunch because you’re being sweet.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t think that at all. Have lunch with him if that’s what you want. At least I know you’ll be safe from Celia with him around. They aren’t friendly anymore. And I wouldn’t deny you something that makes you feel good.”
Desperate to hold on to his lighter mood, I chose to respond playfully. “It’s not your right to deny me anyway.”
He pretended to sigh. “I hate that.”
A rush of emotion swept through me. God, this man…he stopped his whole world to look out for me, to take care of me, and now he’d accepted my decision to meet with his father—a decision that had to be tearing him apart inside. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was pretty darn near.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on to him tight. “I love you.”
“And that’s why I’m letting you win this conversation.”
I pulled back to meet his eyes, my brow raised. “Letting me?”
“Please, indulge me a little.”
“How about this—” I shifted so I was straddling him. “How about we cease conversation altogether and indulge in an activity where we can both win?”
“Can we both win twice?”
“Honey, we can win three times if you’re up for it.”
The growing bulge beneath me told me what he thought about that before he even spoke. “Now that sounds like a plan.”
***
Mira tapped her pursed lips with a French-manicured finger. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you what he’s planning. It makes no sense.”
When I joined Mira for lunch the next day, I hadn’t meant to tell her about Celia’s stalking, but the words poured out the moment I’d seen her. If Jack had been there, I knew I wouldn’t have shared as much, but his tardiness had me spilling everything, including Hudson’s deflection when I’d asked him his ideas for dealing with the bitch. He’d had a valid reason for not giving me more information, but it continued to nag at me.
Mira frowned. “You’re afraid he’s keeping something from you on purpose?”
“No.” Though, I wasn’t quite sure. “I don’t know.”
She shook her head, her hair bobbing against her shoulders with the movement. “I don’t know either. I’m sorry.”
Her apology took me by surprise. “Why are you sorry? You have no reason to be sorry.”
“He’s my brother.” When she realized that didn’t exactly explain anything, she went on. “I feel like I should understand him better, and I don’t.”
“No one does.” Would anyone, ever? Sometimes I thought maybe I would, but really, could I?
“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waiter’s question drew my eyes back to the menu I’d tossed aside. I still hadn’t decided on a meal, having been too preoccupied with chatting.
The waiter saw my hesitancy. “Or would you prefer to wait for your other guest?”
Mira glanced at me. She already knew what she wanted to order. “We’ll wait.”
“Very good.” The waiter left us to attend to his other tables.
I picked up my menu and scanned the lunch items. But my mind was still on the conversation at hand. I lowered the menu and leaned toward Mira. “Here’s the thing—I’m afraid the real reason he won’t tell me what he has planned is that he doesn’t have anything planned.”
“Wouldn’t he just admit that?”
“No.” There was no way Hudson would let me believe he didn’t have complete control over the situation. “He wants me to feel safe.”
Mira beamed. “Of course he does.” There was never any doubt that the girl had faith in her brother. “Laynie, he’ll come up with something. I know it. And whatever it is, he’ll do a good job. He’ll be committed and he’ll go to great lengths. This is probably a horrible comparison, but look how devoted he was to keeping Celia’s secret. All to protect her.”