Chapter Seven
Gracie
“Can you hand me that stack of copies?” Brandon asks.
I limp over to the copy machine and grab the stack of papers, thrusting them into my coworker’s hand before easing myself gently back down into the office chair.
“What’s wrong with you? Hurt yourself over the weekend?” he asks, watching me carefully.
“What? No.” Shit. Was I being that obvious? “It’s just the heels I’m wearing today,” I lie as coolly as I can. “I’m still breaking them in.” At least that part is true.
I’m pleasantly sore between my thighs. Nothing a little Tylenol can’t handle. But geez, how embarrassing. Crossing my legs, I concentrate on the pile of work in front of me, unable to keep a smile off my lips. I’ve been daydreaming about Hudson all morning and my brain feels like mush.
Focus, Gracie. I leaf through the design workbook for the commercial remodel we’re working on. Brandon’s the project leader, only a couple of years older than me; it gives me hope that with hard work and some luck on my side, I’ll be running my own projects in a few years.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and my lips curl into a smile. Hudson spent all morning and half the night sending me sweet messages. I read them all about twenty times. The first one, sent only hours after I left his place, was to check on me and see how I was feeling. At the time, I was still floating on cloud nine and didn’t even realize how sore I was. How my panties clung to my sensitive skin, or how my hips bore the markings of his fingertips.
I look down at a new text from him.
Hudson: How’s your day so far?
I chuckle to myself. Melanie was right about feeling a deeper connection to him after sex, but he also seems to be more connected to me, too. For all the years Hudson’s had my phone number for emergencies or whatever, he’s never texted me. Now he can’t seem to stop himself. Not that I’m complaining. I would've died of curiosity wondering what he was thinking about—specifically, whether or not he was still thinking of me after our night together.
Gracie: I’m feeling okay. Last night was kind of crazy.
Hudson: I had fun. His response arrives almost instantly.
I can’t believe we actually did it. I actually crossed the big V-card off my to-do list...and with Hudson Stone. A silly smile forms on my lips.
Once definitely isn't enough. I want to do that again. I’m not sure what he’ll think if I admit that I want to see him again so quickly. He said “three times” before...but now that he got what he wanted, is he done with me? He might refuse, but considering that I’m still on a happy buzz, I risk the letdown.
Gracie: When can we meet up again?
I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll write back. Several minutes pass and my stomach sinks. Shit. Why did I have to push things too far? He offered to help me get rid of my virginity, not to become a regular occurrence in my life. Then my phone vibrates again and my heart jumps into my throat.
Hudson: Sorry, I was talking to your brother.
The feeling of ice-water rushing through my veins reminds me of what a terrible idea this is. I should just cut my losses now and move on. Then he texts again.
Hudson: Come over tonight.
My fingers can’t type fast enough.
Gracie: Okay. What time?
I peek up at Brandon, hoping he hasn’t noticed my new smartphone addiction. His furrowed brow as he stares down at a rendering says no.
Hudson: Any time after six. I can order in dinner.
Sex and a meal? My new favorite combination. With a smile on my lips, I get back to work, knowing my evening looks promising.
* * *
Knowing I had plans with Hudson tonight made the workday drag by incredibly slowly. Finally five o’clock rolls around, and I grab my purse and scurry to the exit. I want to go home first and freshen up before heading to his place. When I arrive at my apartment, I rush inside and fly through the small space like a crazed person. Brushing my teeth, and touching up my makeup so I look refreshed.
Now I’m waiting on his doorstep. As I bring my hand up to knock, terrified regret flashes through me. What am I doing here? Was Melanie right all along? Is this going to end in a terrible crash-and-burn scenario, where I’m just a heartbroken shell of my former self when it’s all over?
When Hudson opens the door, I’m greeted by the smell of roasting chicken and my stomach growls, perking right up. The stale peanut butter and jelly I had for lunch was a long time ago. And the sight of Hudson with a dishtowel slung over one shoulder, wearing a plain gray T-shirt and jeans, is a very nice one. Oddly sexy and domestic at the same time, like he's welcoming me home.
“Hi,” I offer, not sure why I’m suddenly feeling so shy.
Hudson’s features soften as he gazes down at me. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie smoothly. Honestly, I’m freaking confused about what this is. I had sex with my brother’s best friend, not even twenty-four hours ago, and now here I am again. I’ve never done anything remotely this crazy before. It has paranoid thoughts flying through my mind—like, what if my brother drives by and sees my car parked outside Hudson’s place? I’d have no plausible explanation. And witnessing a murder is something I’d rather not do tonight.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he says, ushering me inside.
I follow him to the kitchen and my eyes widen. It’s an absolute mess. Bits of onion and potato peel are peppered all over the counter. A huge pan of roasted potatoes and a whole chicken rests on top of the stove. A dish of green beans and a plate of warmed dinner rolls sit on the kitchen island.
“Did your refrigerator explode?” I giggle.
He chuckles back. “I guess I was hungry. And I didn’t feel like ordering takeout.”
I step closer, surveying his work. Wow. He did all this for me? The chicken smells incredible and the potatoes are perfectly cooked, with little crispy edges just like I like. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”
He shrugs. “One of the benefits of being raised with a housekeeper who made us a big family dinner every night. I guess all those years doing my homework at the kitchen island while Greta cooked rubbed off on me.”
I knew Hudson’s family had money, but I guess I never paused to consider how different his upbringing was from mine. He opted to spend most of his free time over at our house, which is weird given that his parents' place boasted a pool, tennis court, and an in-home theater.
“Do you want to set the table while I finish up?”
I nod and he hands me two heavy porcelain plates. When he invited me over, I assumed we’d eat pizza off paper plates in front of the TV before heading into the bedroom. A home-cooked meal, served on real china, eaten while I cast nervous glances over at him from across the table...it feels a lot more serious. Intimate. I kind of like that, but it also bothers me, and I'm not sure why. Maybe because he’d said this was going to be just sex—strictly educational, nothing more—but this already feels like more. Ignoring the tightening in my belly, I dutifully take the plates and the silverware and set them on his dining table, where two glasses of ice water are sweating rings into the dark wood.
“I hope this is okay.” Hudson joins me at the table, placing the chicken and side dishes in the center. “Help yourself.”
I dig in, helping myself to a good portion of everything he’s prepared. Hudson does the same, but I can’t help but notice he keeps glancing in my direction.
After a few bites, which are delicious, I work up the courage to ask him about the elephant in the room. One of them, anyway. “So...you said you talked to my brother.” Might as well get it out in the open. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on anything else until we discuss it.
Hudson sets his fork down beside his plate and wipes his mouth with the napkin. “Yes. We had a meeting earlier about one of our buildings.”
“How did that go?” I want to know if he was nervous, if he felt guilty, but his impassive expression and nonchalant tone make him very hard to read. Then again, he was always the type to hold his cards close to his chest, never overreacting or stirring up drama. It’s probably what makes him so good at business. He’s level-headed and calm.
He shrugs. “Don’t worry, Gracie. He doesn’t suspect anything.”
My stomach twists again.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he adds, his tone turning somber.
“I know,” I squeak out. That’s the thing, I do want to. I’m just worried about what happens when all of this inevitably comes to a crashing end.
“Will you tell me more about your job? I never got to hear the details, since your happy hour was cut short. Do you like the firm?” He leans forward, placing his elbows on the table.
I almost sag in relief, thankful for the change in topic. “Actually, I love it,” I say, surprised at the sincerity in my voice. While I haven’t exactly adjusted to waking up at six every morning and fighting traffic on my commute like a Real Grownup, I love my job. I fill him in on the details of my team's current project, a downtown renovation of a whole city block. Instead of his eyes glossing over with boredom, he nods with interest and asks insightful questions.
It’s crazy how normal this all feels. Sharing a meal and conversation with him feels natural and casual just like always, only now I know how good he is in bed. I almost giggle to myself. Almost. But then Hudson is sharing his plans for next year, which includes purchasing a commercial space downtown for his and Hayden’s new office, and he wants to get my perspective. I’m flattered and tell him of course I’ll help.
Somehow we’ve been sitting here talking for almost two hours, the leftover food on our plates cold and forgotten. But then his eyes darken, a slow smile smoldering on his lips, and the atmosphere instantly changes. Electricity sparks between us, leaving the air hot and charged in its wake.
In a low, husky tone, Hudson asks, “Did you get enough to eat?”
A warm shiver races through me, knowing that the evening is about to take a turn. “Yes, thank you,” I reply with a nod. I never knew he was such a great cook. Just another thing on the long list of things I admire about him. Melanie’s warning about not falling for him flashes through my mind. I’m about to make some excuse, tell him I have to leave, when he rises from the table and stalks toward me.
“I’ve been going crazy all day, remembering the way you looked naked in my bed …” He lifts me from my chair and my body immediately molds to his. Soft and pliable. His fingertips brush stray strands of hair back from my face.
“I can’t stop thinking about how your body felt clenched around mine. You were perfection,” he growls, bringing his mouth to my neck.
Forget a warm shiver—his words crack through me like a lightning strike, nearly splitting me in two. I’ve never felt so sexy or desired. It’s only Hudson that makes me feel this way. The feeling has become addictive already.
“Hudson,” I groan, lifting my lips to his. We kiss, passionately, like there’s a fire chasing us. Pressing my hips closer, I can feel every hard inch of his arousal. My panties are already soaked. “Should we go to your bedroom?” I pant, breaking my mouth from his after several hot minutes.
“Whatever you want,” he murmurs, nibbling my collarbone.
Whether he’s giving me an opening to leave, or just implying that we can have our adventure somewhere other than the bed, I’m not sure. I definitely want to do this. But I’m not sure if I’m bold enough yet to move onto kitchen-counter sex or living-room-with-the-lights-on sex.
“Yes,” is all I can say, but Hudson interprets it perfectly. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me down the hallway toward his bedroom.
When my feet touch the floor, he immediately goes to work on the button of my dress pants. “Get naked,” he whispers. His naughty voice commanding me in the darkness sends hot arousal zipping through my veins. I give my hips a wiggle as he pushes my pants and panties down over my butt.
“Sexy little thing,” Hudson whispers, treating me to a quick kiss on the lips.
I never knew sex would be fun. It might sound weird, but I always assumed there would be a lot to concentrate on, with inserting tab A into slot B and whatnot. I’m relieved to see it's nothing like that. It’s easy and natural.
I open my blouse, fumbling over the buttons as Hudson brings the back of his hand between my thighs and gently rubs his knuckles over my bare pussy. I press my thighs together as tingles shoot up my spine.
When I'm finally free of the shirt, Hudson unclasps my bra for me and his mouth lowers, taking one pert nipple into his mouth. The sensation makes me flinch it feels so good.
“Prettiest set of tits I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, moving to my other breast while he holds the weight of them in his hands. “I should fuck these before we’re done. Would you like that, Gracie?”
A sobbing gasp gets stuck in my throat. Done. The word echoes in my head. I can’t let myself think about the end of my time with him, or I’ll start crying. Tears are already threatening to appear, even as good as his mouth and hands feel on me.
“On the bed,” he pants, breaking away from my nipple with a groan that sends goosebumps racing along my skin.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and scoot up toward the pillows. Then I watch, barely breathing, as Hudson treats me to an erotic strip show. He pulls his T-shirt off over his head that way guys do before dropping it to the floor, all of the hard muscles in his stomach and chest flexing as he moves. His deft fingers move to the button on his jeans, and then they’re sliding down his powerful thighs along with his boxers. He is beautiful like this. He’s hard edges and muscle, but this is him opening himself up to me, taking a risk, and making a huge jump with me off to crazy-horny town.
I reach out toward him and he joins me on the bed, his mouth moving to my breasts again while my right hand ventures down until I find the weight of his cock. I push my hand up and down just like he showed me, loving the heat of him and the little grunts he makes.
“Shit, Gracie, where did you learn to jack my cock like that?” He smirks at me.
“You.” I grin right back at him.
Chuckling darkly, he moves down on the bed until he’s eye-level with my navel. I inhale sharply when he kisses my belly. Then he moves lower and I forget how to breathe.
“I’m going to fuck this tight pussy until you beg me to stop,” he pants, his teeth grazing my inner thigh.
His mouth closes over my clit and I cry out. His large hands hold my thighs open nice and wide and I take every bit of pleasure he doles out. His tongue moves in an expert pattern designed to bring me more pleasure than I could have dreamed possible. Then he pushes two fingers inside me and I groan, flinching as my back arches off the bed.
“Are you sore?” he asks, blinking up at me and my dramatic reaction.
I give a careful nod. I am a little sore, but not uncomfortable enough that I don’t want to do this.
“Fuck.” He sits back on his heels, his huge cock sticking straight up in the air. He scrubs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t even think about that. It’s been a long time since I was with a virgin. Forgive me?” he asks, tilting my chin up until I meet his dark, stormy eyes.
“Of course. It’s nothing. I promise I’m okay.” I won’t tell him that I took pain reliever earlier, knowing that won’t help the concerned look in his eyes.
His eyes search mine, and eventually, he decides to believe me. His mouth goes back to my core again. But this time he’s softer, moving with the skill of a man who both knows what he’s doing and doesn’t want to push me too far.
Soon I’m clawing at the sheets, tugging at his hair, and rocking my hips into his mouth, not caring one little bit that I’m riding his face like a maniac. This only makes him more determined, and his tongue moves earnestly against me, drawing tight circles over my sensitive bud.
“Hudson,” I cry out, my body convulsing once, twice, as a powerful orgasm washes over me. He crawls up my body and kisses me through every little aftershock.
“Feel good, princess?” he whispers in the darkness, his lips brushing mine.
“Very. Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for doing that. Trust me, it was my pleasure.”
As strange as it is, I believe him. The look of reverence painted on his face tells me he enjoyed that almost as much as I did.
I pull him closer and lay back on the bed, parting my thighs.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his breath a whisper on my neck.
I nod tightly. “Positive.” The way he pumped in and out of me last night while his thumb stroked my clit has played through my brain all day.
He grabs a condom from beside his bed and quickly slips it on. Then he’s back, moving between my legs, looking into my eyes as he pushes forward. The broad tip of him pierces me and I groan, shifting my hips closer, wanting more of him.
“I want you to watch,” he says, withdrawing just a bit. I look down to where our bodies are joined, and damn. That’s an erotic sight. His thick cock is painted in my wetness, and my inner folds are parted to accept him. He thrusts in slow, but deep, until he grinds his pelvis against my clit. The tight bud is peeking out from its sheath and when he grinds against me, I shudder.
“Shit, Hudson,” I moan out the curse, my eyes drifting closed.
“Watch, baby. Look how your pussy hugs me.” He rocks against me, sliding in and out inch by delicious inch. His movements are slower, more controlled than last night. Is he less eager, or does he just want to savor this?
“Does it feel good for you, too?” I ask, noticing the tick in his hard-set jaw.
“Too good,” he growls.
I know exactly what he means. My body is already building toward release, and I cry out with each deep thrust forward. Hudson joins me, a deep grunt rumbling in his chest as his pace picks up.
I push my hips up, meeting each of his hard thrusts as I drift closer and closer to the edge. Then he brings his thumb to my clit again and rubs it in small circles. Almost immediately my inner muscles clamp down around him and I cry out his name. A powerful orgasm races through my system, making me almost dizzy with the force of it. A thin sheen of sweat covers my body and my nipples are pebbled into hardened points. But Hudson’s not done with me yet. He begins rocking into me in fast, uneven strokes as the aftershocks of my second orgasm continue to pulse quietly through me.
“Gracie …” My name on his lips as he comes causes my pussy to flutter around him again. “Fucking hell, baby. You have no idea how good that felt,” he says, pulling me into his arms. He collapses down onto the bed, holding me close. I rest my head on his chest and listen to the whooshing sound of his racing heart, wondering what in the hell just happened. It was almost better than our first time, if that's even possible; it must be because now he knows my body intimately and I know his. The thought makes me happy. But even as I close my eyes and try to relax, the gnawing anxiety I felt earlier refuses to fade completely.
* * *
Later that night, we’re still relaxing together in his bed in post-sex bliss when Hudson suddenly sits up. “I have an idea …”
I think he’s about to propose a crazy new sexual act that he wants to introduce me to. Rising to his feet, he offers me his hand, and I accept, standing naked before him. But then he completely surprises me.
“You feel like going to Sebastian’s to get an ice cream?”
“You’re inviting me for dessert?” I can’t help the silly grin spreading over my face. We used to go to Sebastian's all the time when we were younger, but I haven't been in years.
“Why not?” He smiles and I’m lost.
“Of course I’ll go.”
We throw on our clothes and head out into the night. His hand rests on my knee while he drives, the radio playing low in the background. I’m happy to see the conversation flows just as well when our clothes are on. Then again, I always knew it would. I’ve known him since I was four years old and I’ve liked him almost that long. If I’m being honest, I’ve always felt a lot more for him than like.
But I force those thoughts away as we park outside one of the most popular independently owned ice cream shops in town. In the summer, this place has a line wrapping around the side of the building and down a whole city block. But given that it's early fall and we’re here a little later in the evening, after the family crowd, there are only a few people ahead of us. Once inside, I stuff my hands in my pockets, feeling light and carefree as I gaze down into the glass-covered counter full of creamy delicacies. I’m already imagining how the sweet and savory pistachio ice cream will taste melting on my tongue when I hear a familiar laugh.
My whole body tenses up, breaking out in a cold sweat. My brother and Emery have just entered the shop. And when I glance over, Hayden’s eyes lock with mine.
“Gracie?” With a lopsided smile, he starts to come closer, apparently forgetting about the line.
I'm in a full-on panic. There’s no way to explain my being here with Hudson. He and I are not friends—we do not grab ice cream together. And since I’m rocking the world's most obvious case of just-fucked hair, I’m pretty sure I’m busted. My heart slams against my ribs as I glance over to Hudson, praying that he'll step in and say just the right thing to rescue me.
Except he’s not there. He’s gone..
One second he was standing right beside me, providing a running commentary on his favorite flavor combinations. The next second, he’s gone. Poof. Vanished.
“What are you doing here?” my brother asks, pulling me into a one-armed hug. Sebastian’s is a good hike from my place, but it's right down the street from Hudson’s. I hope to God he doesn’t connect the dots.
I shrug, trying to act casual when inside I feel anything but. Where the hell did Hudson go? Why'd he have to leave me to handle this myself? “I was in the mood for some ice cream.” And some dick, I mentally add.
“Cool. You can join us. We just finished dinner.” He gestures toward Emery, who’s dutifully waiting in line. Must be nice to have a partner who sticks around to save your spot...and your ass.
“No, that’s okay. I’m going to get going and leave you two to finish your date without a third wheel.” He hasn't asked about Hudson yet, so he must have escaped before my brother could see him. Now I just have to make a break for it myself.
Hayden studies me quietly for a moment. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” He raises a hand to my forehead, but I quickly brush him away.
“I’m fine. Excuse me,” I say, noticing that I’m next in line and the cashier is looking more than a little annoyed. I order the first thing my eye lands on—one scoop of cherry bliss—and take my cup to go, waving at Emery and Hayden as I speed-walk outside.
The sidewalk is empty and I’m seriously not sure what happened to Hudson. Maybe he freaked out and went home. A pang of hurt ripples through me; I'm already starting to regret what I've done. Spooning a mouthful of ice cream into my mouth, I comfort myself with fat and sugar as I begin walking toward home.
Strong hands reach out and grab me, pushing me back against the brick building. I stiffen in shock and my mouth drops open to protest...only to be covered by firm lips kissing me in earnest. Hudson.
“Mmm, you taste like cherries.” His tongue strokes mine, deepening the kiss as I groan against him. I want to yell at him for disappearing, but his warm mouth is on mine, his tongue coaxing mine to play. Besides, his disappearing act is the only reason we didn’t get caught.
“My brother’s right inside.” I tip my head toward the front door, which is less than ten feet away.
Hudson grinds his erection against my hip and my insides go molten. I’m wondering if he’s going to invite me back to his place for a second round when he suddenly pulls away. “Then we better get you in a cab. You have to work tomorrow.”
I’m about to argue that he does too. But his expression is serious rather than playful, so I simply nod. This isn’t a fluffy romantic movie. He isn’t going to suddenly declare his love for me and storm inside to ask my brother for his blessing. He got what he wanted—we fucked like rabbits earlier—and now he’s ready to head home. Alone.
Moments later, I’m sitting in the back of a cab with a melting cup of ice cream, wondering what in the actual fuck I’m going to do when Hudson’s done with me.