Fixed on You (24 page)

Silently as I worried about the
impending situation, I followed him through double doors into a beautiful
master suite. The room had two ornate mahogany dressers and a matching four-poster
queen bed. Our luggage sat at the foot of the bed, opposite a small sitting
area with two armchairs and a mahogany table. A fireplace lined the inner wall
and the floors were hardwood covered almost entirely by a plush rug. Though it
was traditionally decorated, a flat screen TV centered the wall across from the
bed.

As I stood taking the room in,
worrying out our situation, Hudson removed his suit jacket, humming as he did,
obviously unaware of my anxiety. Next he loosened his tie and flung it over one
of the chairs. He turned back to me as he unbuttoned his shirt and paused,
noticing I hadn’t moved since entering the room.

Before he could ask, I blurted
out what had me fretting. “Am I off-duty or on-duty?”

A small smile crossed his lips.
“My family’s not around.” Yes, he’d made sure of that. “Off-duty. Besides, I
told you I’d never use sex as part of the sham and I intend to have sex with
you now.”

The shiver that passed through me
caused every hair on my body to stand on end. “Really?”

“Of course.” He continued to pin
me with his stare as he resumed his unbuttoning, moving slower than he had
before.

I took in a shallow breath.
“We’ve never spent the night together.”

“So we haven’t.” He took a step
toward me, his sly grin growing wider. “Are you nervous?”

Yes.
“No.”

His brow rose as if he sensed my
lie. “You should be. You’ll be within my reach all night long. I expect you’ll
be sore tomorrow.”

My nervousness melted away,
replaced by intense arousal. “Hmm. Sounds lovely.”

“Good. Go get ready for bed.” He
nodded toward the en suite bathroom door. “Don’t take too long. I’m eager to
lick you senseless.”

I didn’t hesitate, grabbing the
small bag that held my toiletries as I scurried into the bathroom. After I shut
the door behind me, my finger lingered at the handle while I considered locking
it. But why would I do that? Any invasion Hudson planned I would welcome.

After washing my face and
brushing my teeth I paused again. What should I wear? I had packed a sexy
nightie, not sure if I would use it or not. Nighties seemed to suggest a
romantic tone. Didn’t they? It didn’t matter, because I’d left my suitcase in
the bedroom. Should I go out clothed? Naked?

I decided to strip to my
underwear, thankful that I’d worn a pretty black lace bra and matching lace boy
shorts under my outfit. I folded my clothes and left them on the counter then
stepped quietly out of the bathroom.

Hudson had turned off the
overhead lights and switched on the nightstand lamps. His back was to me, and I
could see he’d lost his dress shirt and belt and his feet were bare and sexy.
God, feet had no right being sexy, but his were.

He turned and my breath caught.
Our sexual relationship was still so new. Seeing his naked chest still thrilled
me to no end. His hard angles, the way his pants hung low enunciating his hips,
his abs of steel—I didn’t think I could ever get tired of looking at him.

Eventually my gaze fluttered to
his face where I found his dark eyes, devouring me where I stood. “Nice
choice.” He nodded at my attire, and my skin tingled with his approval. “Come
here.” His low growl pulled me to him as effectively as if he had me on a rope.
I stopped within his reach, but he didn’t touch me. He circled around me
instead, standing so close I could feel the body heat radiating off of him,
increasing my own already rising body temperature.

He stopped behind me, and I felt
him at my neck, his breath grazing my skin. “So beautiful,” he murmured before
his lips nipped at my ear. “I need to make you come.” I jumped as his hands
skimmed down the length of my arms. “Over and over.” He licked along my lobe.
“Do you think you can handle it?”

Words failed me. I answered with
an incoherent moan, leaning my body into him, letting his heat envelop me.

He let out a wicked laugh then
spun me around to face him, his mouth stopping centimeters above my own. “You
don’t know if you can handle it, do you, precious? Let’s find out.”

He took me with his mouth, consuming
my breath with his ravaging kiss, urging me to succumb to his control. I didn’t
fight it, giving myself over to him in every way he demanded. And with each
demand, I lost more of myself to him as he taught my body how to be adored and
worshipped. How to be taken and dominated.
Like I was
made simply for his pleasure, but by the same token, that he was made for mine.

He did
lick me until I was senseless, and he did make me come over and over. And in
several moments I feared I couldn’t handle it. But he pushed me through each
climax—both those that rolled slowly and those that ripped violently through me—with
the experience and confidence of a lover that had known me intimately for far
longer than he had.

After several orgasms passed
between us, he lay heavily on the bed next to me, his shoulder touching mine,
either spent for the night or taking a break, I wasn’t sure. My own body was boneless,
every muscle lax. Sleep threatened at the edges of my consciousness, but I
pushed it away, unwilling to put our evening to bed yet.

I turned my head toward him and
caught him watching me, a satisfied smile on his face. Returning his grin, I
sighed. “That was…incredible.”

In a flash he was on top of me,
his body covering the length of mine. He laced his hands in mine and lifted
them over my head. “What was your favorite part?”

All of it. Every minute of it.
But that answer seemed lame and I knew he wanted something more concrete.
Several amazing moments came to mind, each making me blush simply from thinking
of them—like when he’d crawled up my body and straddled my neck, silently
ordering me to take his cock in my mouth. That had been pretty hot.

And when he’d commanded me to
play with myself while he sucked and tugged at my breast. Again, pretty hot.
Also, a bit awkward. But only until I warmed up to it.

Unable to voice the memories, I
turned the table on him. “What was
your
favorite part?”

He trailed his nose along my jaw.
“The way you respond to anything…everything…I do to you.” He licked along my
lower lip and I opened to kiss him, but he pulled out of reach. “Your turn.”

His mood was unusually playful
and inspired me to join him. “I’ll never tell.” I grinned.

 “Tell me.” He moved my hands
together and pinned them with one of his. His other hand he lowered to rest
lightly at my hip.

My exposed ribcage made me feel
vulnerable. He could tickle me mercilessly. I tempted him anyway. “Make me.”

“I can’t make you do anything.”
His hand flickered across my sensitive side and I flinched.

“I think you could.” I braced myself
for his assault. “I hear you’re quite good at making women do things.”

And suddenly I wasn’t playing
anymore, but hinting at deeper meanings. I hadn’t meant to go there, but his
confession of manipulating women for sport always hung right below the surface
of our time together. Lying nude beneath him now, completely stripped of senses
from multiple orgasms, it bubbled to the top and escaped my lips.

His eye twitched, the only
indication he gave that my true implication affected him. “I
am
good at
making women do things.”

I couldn’t help myself. I nudged
the conversation on. “But not me.”

“No.” His voice lowered, the
playfulness gone. “Not you.”

“Am I not…” I searched for the
question I wanted to ask, needing the answer even though I couldn’t yet form
the words. “…intriguing…enough to play that game with?”

My hands still pinned above me,
he propped himself up with his other arm so he could glare down at me. “God,
Alayna, do you want me to do that to you? Possess you? I would crush you. I
would destroy you.” His tone was dark, but also honestly inquisitive. “Is that
what you want?”

My eyes filled. I hated the truth
of my answer. “No, but a little bit yes too. That’s how my stupid brain works.
If you don’t do with me what you normally do with other girls, there must be
something wrong with me.”

He laughed as he lowered himself
to the bed beside me. “Oh, it’s all you, huh? It’s not that there’s something
wrong with me? How self-centered of you.”

Free to move, I rolled to my side
toward him. “I’m very self-centered. I want to be special. I’m afraid that I’m
not.”

“You are.” His words were
emphatic. “Even more than you could imagine you are.” He turned his body so he
could face me. “Because I don’t want to destroy you more than I need to possess
you. That’s progress for me.”

We were both vulnerable now. Two
damaged souls spilling our brokenness in a private therapy session. Was this
what he had wanted between us? Sharing like this, without judgment, without
shame? It was…nice.

I stopped worrying about being exposed
and spoke from the gut. “Then I’ll try not to fixate on what it means that I’m
different for you. That will be progress for me.”

He nodded, the weight of my words
sinking in. “Do you know why you do it?”

“Why I become obsessive about
guys?”

“Yeah.”

“My counselors have said it’s
probably about not feeling loved as a child. Aggravated by the early death of
my parents. So I’m constantly seeking affection and doubting it when I receive
it because I don’t know what it really feels like.”

“How did you get over that?”

It wasn’t at all what I thought
he’d ask, and I sensed he was asking as much for himself as he was about me.
I’d gotten this far into the depths of candidness, might as well dive right in.
“I haven’t. It’s a constant battle. Lots of self-affirmation. Lots of silly
little tricks, like wearing elastic bands to remind me.”

He nodded, understanding about my
elastic band settling in. “You still fall into old habits.”

“Yes.”

“With me?”

“You know the answer to that.” My
voice came out a whisper. I wanted to look away, but our eyes were locked and
in the softness of his gaze I found the courage to tell more. “I didn’t believe
you were away on business. I thought you didn’t want to see me. That’s why I
came by your building.”

His face fell, as though my honesty
crushed him. He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, they were dark
and intense. He reached his hand out to cup my nape, insuring that my face was
fixed on his. “Alayna, I will never lie to you.” His voice was gruff. “Not when
we’re off-duty. I will always tell you the truth. I swear it.”

His grip loosened, and his thumb
stroked across my bare cheek. “Do you understand?”

I nodded and covered his hand
with mine. “Hudson,
this
,” I choked, my throat tight with emotion. “
This
was my favorite part.” 

For a
split second I worried I’d scared him with my intensity, that he’d pull away.
But he didn’t. Instead he put his hand on my ass and pulled me closer. He
stroked down my thigh, urging it forward to rest around his waist. Then he slid
inside me, my pussy already wet from earlier orgasms. He was slow and steady
with his pace, less rough than he often tended to be, his usual sex talk
absent. But, because of the things we’d shared, his measured thrusts felt raw,
more intent on connecting than on gratifying.

Climax
came quickly for both of us, mine crashing through me in waves that tightened
my belly and curled my toes and caused fireworks to cross my vision, his
spurting hot and prolonged as he groaned my name. His eyes never left mine,
though they narrowed as he came, and it deepened the intimacy. I knew he’d told
the truth, I trusted him. In his words, in his actions, I felt fixed. I’d
fallen into something that had nothing to do with love. Into healing.

And it
was love too. If I could stand to admit it to myself, love was exactly what it
was.

Streams of sunlight poured
through the windows, warming and waking me up earlier than I would have on my
usual sleep schedule. Before looking, I sensed I was alone. When I turned, I
squinted at the clock on the nightstand next to where Hudson should have been
sleeping. Nine-twenty-seven.
                I blinked several times, adjusting my eyes, while I considered
whether I wanted to get up and search for my lover or roll over and go back to
sleep. I still hadn’t made a decision when the doors opened to the bedroom and
Hudson appeared wearing nothing but black silk pajama bottoms and carrying a
breakfast tray.
                “Good, you’re awake,” he said as I sat up, the smell of coffee
luring me further out of sleep. “I’m showing my family what an awesome
boyfriend I am by bringing you breakfast in bed. Omelets. Sans mushrooms, of
course. No cherry-flavored blow pops.” He winked as he set the tray on the
table in the sitting area.
                “This is one of those inappropriate moments for a blow pop
anyway. And you should have said amazingly awesome boyfriend. Breakfast in bed
is the best.” Though the thing making my mouth water was the never tiresome
sight of Hudson barefoot and shirtless.
                “I’m not that awesome.” He left the tray and untied the string
of his PJs, letting them fall to the ground, exposing his beautifully erect
penis. He slid under the covers and climbed over me. “I’m going to make you eat
it cold.”
                Before his kiss prevented me from speech or thought I mumbled,
“Cold breakfast sounds perfect.”

***

It was almost noon before we were
ready to dress for the day. Hudson had offered to draw me a bath to soak my sex
sore limbs, but I opted for a shared shower, wanting to extend our intimacy as
long as possible before we were on-duty again.
                After we’d dried and dressed—Hudson in khaki pants and polo, me
in a cream sundress—he left me to take our dirty dishes down while I finished
primping. I chose to sweep my hair into a ponytail, an easy and quick option,
so I could follow him shortly, though the idea of hiding out in the bedroom as
long as I could, had crossed my mind. Truth was, as much as I didn’t want to
face Sophia, I wanted to be with Hudson more.
                Not knowing my way around the house yet, I headed first to the
kitchen, hopeful that he’d still be there. I paused outside the swinging kitchen
door when I heard voices—Hudson’s and Sophia’s.
                “—didn’t invite you so you could stay in your room all day and
fuck like bunnies,” Sophia was saying.
                Yeah, I wasn’t walking in yet. I pressed my ear to the door,
listening.
                “Then why did you invite us?” Hudson’s voice was calm, his
ability to smoothly wield his mother impressing me. Was Sophia the first woman
he’d mastered? Had he practiced his skills of manipulation on her? Was our elaborate
scheme to fool her now a substitute for the games he’d played on other women?
                I wasn’t judging him for any of it. Just curious.
                “I invited you because I think she—any woman you involve yourself
with, for that matter—has a right to be protected. Has a right to know.”
                “Her name is Alayna, Mother.” He surprised me with the
sharpness of his tone. “And she already knows.” He laughed gruffly. “I love how
you believe no one could possibly feel something for me because of who I was in
the past.”
                My chest tightened, ached for what I knew Hudson must be
feeling. Brian had held my mistakes over me as well, always doubting that I
could ever be better. The lack of familial support made healing all the more
difficult.