The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You (29 page)

“That would have been fine.” I would have sucked him dry and licked him clean.

“But I much prefer coming in your tight cunt.” His jabs slowed as I clenched around him, constricting his movement. “Fuck, I’m coming now.”

I groaned with him as his climax pressed him deeper into me, as my own heightened arousal took me to a gentle release behind him. It wasn’t the earth-shattering variety of orgasm that I’d grown accustomed to having with Hudson, and somehow that made it even sweeter, more savory.

When he’d emptied himself completely, Hudson fell to his back beside me and took in several deep, ragged breaths. “I apologize for that.”

I sat up on my elbows and cast him a questioning glance. I could recall very few times he’d apologized to anyone for anything. Certainly not for sex.

“I got carried away. I didn’t give you the attention you deserved.”

Laughing, I rolled to lie across his chest. “I love it when you get carried away. You rarely let yourself go. It’s a nice change. Not to mention, it’s hot.”

Hudson’s chest rose as he chortled—another sound I heard infrequently from him—and he draped an arm over my back.

I propped myself up on my arm. “Someday, though, you’re going to let me suck you off until you finish.”

“You know I love to come buried inside you.”

“God, I do, too.” I smiled, dreamily. “But I’d also love to have you come in my mouth. I’m craving it, actually.”

His arm tightened around me. “Stay tonight.”

It wasn’t a question or even an invitation. It was a declaration that I would stay, and of course I would. But I responded anyway. “Okay.”

Where else would I want to be?

***

Hudson had missed his usual morning workout since we’d slept in that morning. Though I was convinced we’d worked out enough in the bedroom—and the kitchen and the dining room—he decided to hit the penthouse gym. Wanting to be near, I joined him.

The gym was in the back of the apartment, next to the master bedroom, and was equipped with a treadmill, elliptical trainer, rowing machine and a weight system. I changed into a sports bra and shorts from my closet and claimed the treadmill. Hudson started out on the elliptical and moved to the weights for the bulk of his workout.

I’d always been a fairly good runner, usually pounding Central Park or the blocks from the club to my apartment, but running with the sight of Hudson’s calves and arms flexing as he worked the elliptical was quite a feat, even for me. Admittedly, I tripped a couple of times.

After exercising, we showered and settled in the bedroom, Hudson donning a pair of boxers while I snagged one of his t-shirts to wear with a pair of panties. Hudson brought in his laptop to sort through some business emails, and I curled up with a book from the day’s delivery. There were several Hudson had got that I hadn’t read yet but were on the list of greatest books of all time that I was working through.

When I’d been reading long enough to get lost in the first few chapters of my book, I suddenly became aware of stillness next to me. Hudson was no longer typing. I looked up and found he was watching me.

Goose bumps marched down my arms. “What?”

“You look good in my t-shirt.”

“I know.”

His lips curled into a sexy smile. “You look better without it.”

I laughed.

He lifted his chin toward my book. “What did you choose to read?”

I held the book up for him to see the cover.

“
The Talented Mr. Ripley.
Interesting. A book about a true sociopath.”

An unexpected chill ran through me. Hudson’s mother had told me that he was a sociopath—unable to feel empathy or love, detached and self-absorbed. I disagreed vehemently. I’d seen otherwise. Hudson loved and cared for me like no one in my life had.

But, though I hadn’t told him about the conversation, I was certain
sociopath
was a term Sophia had used openly with him. I wondered if he thought it was an accurate description of himself. It was hard to bring it up and debate it with him when I knew so little about the things he’d actually done in the past. I only knew the general idea—that he manipulated people. Played them.

If I was being honest with myself, I could see where sociopath might be mentioned by a therapist treating someone with those types of habits.

I didn’t know enough. Though I believed in Hudson and his feelings for me, there were still so many unknowns.

Propping the book open on the nightstand, I turned my body to face him. “Hudson, can I ask you something?”

He shut his laptop, set it on the nightstand on his side of the bed and switched on the table lamp. “Yes, I will do wicked things to your body, but only if you promise to do wicked things to mine.”

I giggled. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” His eyes blazed as he ran them down my bare legs and back to meet mine. “But wickedness can wait. Ask me.”

“I was thinking…” I ran my teeth over my lower lip as I figured how to broach the subject. “Celia had said that you manipulated women, as if it was more than her. What does that mean exactly? Like, what did you do?”

His jaw set. “I thought you said you just chatted today.”

“We did.” I rushed to correct his impression. “She didn’t mention that today at all. Or anything like it. I swear.” I took a deep breath. “It was before, at the charity fashion event of your mother’s and I’ve been thinking about it. I should know, don’t you think? If we’re going to be open and honest with each other, I need to know.”

“No, you don’t.” He stood, and for a moment, I thought he was leaving the room, but he merely turned off the overhead light and started back to the bed.

“I do need to know.”

“No way.” He said it with finality. Case closed.

But I wasn’t willing to accept that. I pulled my legs under me to a kneeling position. “Hudson, I get it. I do. You want to ignore it and leave things in the past. But you’re always going to be scared that I can’t love you through anything if you don’t give me the chance to prove that I will.”

He stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes narrowed. “But what if you don’t? Have you considered that? Has it crossed your mind that I might have done things you could never forgive?”

“There’s nothing—”

He cut me off. “You don’t know that.”

I switched tactics. “Is there anything I could have done to make you…?”
Stop loving me
is what I thought. But it felt weird to say it out loud like that when he hadn’t ever said it himself. “To change the way you feel about me?”

“It’s not the same.”

“You don’t know that either.” To be fair, he knew very little about the things I’d done before. I hadn’t wanted to tell him, hadn’t wanted him to know the awful ways I’d invaded people’s lives. I completely understood about wanting to let the past lie.

“Then tell me.”

I swallowed but didn’t let the trepidation show on my face. “Anything?”

He sat on the bed, facing me. “The restraining order against you was filed by Paul Kresh. Who was he?”

I closed my eyes for half a second. Hudson had read my police files. Of course he would remember the details.

My hesitation spurred him. “See? You can’t tell me.”

“He was a guy,” I blurted out. I wasn’t stupid. If I wanted him to share, I’d have to do the same. “Just a guy who picked me up once when I was clubbing.”

“You fucked him.”

Another deep breath. “Yes.”

Hudson’s eye twitched. “Go on.” His voice was tight.

“He took me to his place. And after…well, after, he wanted me to leave. But I played drunk and stayed the whole night.”

“Then what?”

“Then I went through his things while he was sleeping and discovered wedding invitations. He had a fiancée. She was out of town for the weekend or something and I was a girl he’d picked up. But he didn’t realize that I’d been crushing on him for weeks. I’d seen him with her, and I didn’t care. When I saw him alone that night, I made myself available.”

My hands were sweaty—I’d been holding them in a ball. I wiped them on the bed next to me as I went on. “Of course, he wanted me gone, to pretend it never happened. Wanted me to forget his address. He never gave me his number, but I’d gotten that when he was sleeping, too. Sent myself a text from his phone so I’d have it.”

I paused, trying to remember how I’d felt, how desperate I’d been for Paul to be in my life. “I couldn’t let him go. I thought…” My voice trailed off at the memory. “I don’t know what I thought.”

Hudson turned so that his back was against the headboard. “Yes, you do. Tell me.”

I sat back next to him, stretching my legs out in front of me. “I thought he was my soul mate. That I was meant to be with him or something. Before I even actually talked to him. I know. Crazy. It was crazy.” I stared at my toes. “I was crazy.”

“No, you weren’t. You only wanted to be loved.”

Hudson’s rich brandy tone pulled my eyes to his. “Yes,” I said, meaning so much more than
yes, I wanted to be loved
. Meaning
yes, we understand each other, yes, we get it
.

Yes, we weren’t crazy or sociopaths or horrible people.
We only wanted to be loved.

“Anyway,” I smoothed my hair behind my ear, “I didn’t have a job. I was living off my inheritance, which is gone now, and so I had plenty of time to wait outside his apartment and follow him to work. Every day. For months. Two? Three? I don’t remember exactly. One day, I told the security guard he was my boyfriend. I convinced him to let me in his office during lunch. When Paul came back, I was waiting for him.” I lowered my lids. “Naked.”

Hudson’s eye twitched again.

“He turned me away, H. Called security before I had a chance to even throw some clothes on.” My throat closed at the humiliating memory. “He filed the restraining order after that.”

I studied his face, trying to pick up on the slightest change in his expression, hoping to pick up on his thoughts. But I came up with nothing. His features were stone.

Would he ever let me in?

Hudson brought his index finger up to his face and rubbed the tip along his chin. “But that’s not all, is it? Your record says you violated the order.”

I felt my face flush. “I, um, I did.” God, talking about it was embarrassing. Even thinking it made me want to crawl in a hole. Of the stupid, idiotic, insane things I’d done, this had been one of the worst. “I became friends with Melissa.”

He nodded once, immediately understanding. “His fiancée.”

“Yeah. I joined her Pilates class and became buddy-buddy with her. So she started inviting me out with her and her friends. Eventually I ended up at a party that Paul was at too. He was livid. And he had to decide if he wanted to ignore it or report me. If he reported me, Melissa would find out about the one-night. I wouldn’t leave things alone, so he reported it. And she broke things off.”

“He deserved that.”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t so sure. Yes, he’d cheated on his fiancée, but that didn’t make up for my role in things.

“He deserved worse in my book.” Though Hudson was guarding his reaction to my story, his casual crumbs of support in my favor helped put me at ease. “And Paul’s the only one this happened with?”

No. Not even close.
“He was the only one who went to the police.”

“I see.” Hudson was quiet for a handful of seconds, absorbing. Finally, he furrowed his brow, and looked me eye-to-eye. “Why would you think that this would change how I feel about you?”

“Are you kidding? Aren’t you worried I’ll become that hung up on you?”

“I’m
hoping
you become that hung up on me.” He draped his arm around my shoulder. “Paul was a fucking asshole who didn’t realize what he had in front of him. I do. Get hung up on me.”

“I am hung up on you!” I turned to kiss his shoulder. “But careful what you wish for. If I go crazy on you, you’ll want me gone.”

He turned his cheek to nuzzle against the top of my head. “I’d never drive you away. Not on purpose.”

It was sweet—being held and told that I was wanted. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Yet, I still felt Hudson didn’t understand the severity of the things I’d done.

I sat forward and turned my entire body to face him, pulling my legs underneath me. “But what if I started to doubt you? That’s happened before, too. Where I didn’t trust anything my boyfriend said to me, no matter how innocent they were. And then I snooped and invaded privacy and people got hurt.”

“Then I simply have to make sure that you never have any reason to doubt me.” He swept his hand out in front of him. “Snoop away. I have nothing to hide from you here.”

And there was my ticket back to where we’d started the conversation. “You’re hiding your past.”

He groaned. “I’m not hiding my past. There’s simply nothing worth talking about. It’s ugly. Why would you want to focus on the bad things?”

“It’s not focusing; it’s sharing and then moving on.”

He shook his head.

“I told you mine. That’s not fair.”

This time I got a steady glare.

“Come on. Anything. One thing.” I felt desperate. Opening up had been hard, and I wasn’t even getting the reward that I’d counted on.

I stared at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“One thing and you’ll leave it alone?”

I nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay, one thing.” He sighed. “It was a game. Always a game. And my favorite was the same one I played on Celia. Make a woman fall for me, and when she did, I was done.” He paused, and for half a second I feared that was all he was going to say.

But then he went on, his eyes glossy with memory. “There was one time, though, I wanted to see if I could make someone fall for someone else, someone they had no interest in. I knew this guy, Owen, who was a real ass. A complete man-whore. And this woman, Andrea—a girl, really. She was in my tennis club my second year of college. Very shy, simple, homely. I discovered she had a thing for me. Having a thing for me was very dangerous.” He stared pointedly at me. “Still is.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, it’s not. Go on.”

“I set her up with Owen. Not just on a date, more. I played silent matchmaker. Got them together. I convinced Owen he was doing me a favor by taking her out a few times. Meanwhile, I’d fill him with all these stories of how amazing Andrea was, how her true beauty was inside. And it happened—they fell for each other. Completely. Sincerely.”