Found in You (Fixed)

Found in You (Fixed) By Laurelin Paige


Book 2 in the Fixed Trilogy


The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.





Chapter One




I paused at the doorway to the Park Avenue high-rise and stared at the building’s name engraved on the stone. The Bowery. Jordan had already pulled away from the curb behind me. He probably felt I was safe enough to be left with the doorman who held the door for me while I stood frozen in thought.

This was real, a big step—a giant step—moving deeper into Hudson’s life than anyone had ever been before. I was excited, of course. I loved the man. But did I really even know him? Could I truly love him based on the little I knew about him? His address had been a mystery to me until two minutes ago when his driver had dropped me off. And what would I find inside the building? What was inside Hudson Pierce, behind the mask he wore so well?

I felt like I’d seen the true Hudson, like I was probably the only person in the world who truly had, but I’d barely scratched the surface. There was still so much left to uncover and learn about the young business mogul who had captured my heart.

I also knew that Hudson held secrets. He’d abandoned his mind games and predilection for manipulating women before meeting me, but the possibility of his past habits returning was very real. As real as the possibility of mine returning.

And that was the fear that overwhelmed me most—that I might be driven to my old habits of obsession. Of all the relationships I’d destroyed with my stalking and unfounded jealousy, I knew that f*cking this one up would destroy me. Thankfully, so far, I had felt fixed with Hudson. Only time would tell if that would last.

The doorman looked at me, an anxious expression on his face—should he continue holding the door open for the crazy indecisive woman, or should he let it go?

I eased him with a smile. “I’ll be just a minute.”

He returned the smile with a nod and closed the door.

Taking a deep breath, I looked toward the top floor where Hudson’s apartment was surely located—I didn’t even know his unit number. Was he awake up there? Was he looking for me from his window? Could he see me down here, hesitating?

He said he’d be sleeping, but it was that last idea that gave me the courage to move. I wouldn’t put it past him to wait up for me and I didn’t want him to suspect I felt any doubt at all. Because I didn’t have doubts. Not about him. My doubts were about me, about whether I could handle us. And truly, if I let my hopes take root—hopes that I could finally have a real relationship with another person without losing myself to the fears and unhealthy habits of my obsessive past—then even those doubts were superficial.

The doorman smiled again as I stepped toward him, opening the door for me. Inside, another man sat at the security desk in front of the elevators.

“Ms. Withers?” he asked before I had a chance to give him my name.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Hudson said he’d leave a key for me at the desk and it was three-thirty in the morning. Who else would I be?

I nodded.

“Mr. Pierce left you this key. Both elevators on the left will take you to the penthouse. Simply insert the key into the panel when you get inside.”

“Thank you.”

The doors opened the minute I pushed the call button. Inside the elevator car, my hand shook as I inserted the key in the panel, and I was grateful to no longer be in sight of the security guard. The ride to the penthouse was fast, but not fast enough. As soon as I’d squashed down my trepidation, the emotion had been replaced with eagerness. I wanted to be in Hudson’s space, in his arms. I wanted to be with him and even the minute that it took to arrive at the top floor was too long to be away from him.

The doors of the elevator opened into a small vestibule. I stepped out and turned the only direction I could, finding myself in a foyer. The space was quiet, but I could hear the sound of a clock ticking somewhere nearby, and there were very few lights on. I suspected the bedrooms were to my left, because my right opened up to a large living room with floor-to-ceiling windows.

As anxious as I was to find Hudson, I turned instead into the living room, attracted by the gorgeous view. Before I made it to the windows, though, a lamp flipped on and I saw him sitting in an armchair.

Startled, my mouth fell open and then stayed open as I ogled the gorgeous man dressed only in boxer shorts. The definition of his sculpted chest quickened my heart before my gaze caught his gray eyes through the flop of his brown hair in the dim light. I’d never seen him in boxer shorts, and damn, had I been missing out. It struck me again how little I knew him, but this time the thought didn’t scare me—it excited me. How much more there was to discover about this man, and I was ready to dive in and explore.

Yet, the excitement didn’t ease the awkwardness, the anxiety. This was new territory, and I didn’t know how to proceed. Certainly, Hudson felt the same.

My hand held tight to my purse while the other absentmindedly clutched at the blue fabric of my dress, a short A-line that hedged the border of professional and sexy. It was the type of outfit I always wore at The Sky Launch, the nightclub where I worked as an assistant manager. The nightclub Hudson owned. The place I’d met him.

A memory flashed through my mind of the first time I’d seen him sitting at the end of the club’s bar, of how he took my breath away. I’d known then I should’ve run. But I didn’t. And now, I couldn’t be more grateful.

He took my breath away now like he did then. With a meek smile, I braved breaking the silence. “You’re awake.”

“I thought it would be best to be waiting for you when you got here so that you wouldn’t be disoriented.”

“But you should be sleeping.” As president of Pierce Industries, a multi-billion dollar company, his hours conflicted with mine at the club. Coming over in the middle of the night, when his daily wake-up time was six in the morning—what was I doing? How could our two very separate lives ever be compatible?

No, I wouldn’t think that way. That was an excuse to deny myself happiness. And Hudson and I both deserved some happiness, for once in our lives.

The object of my desire stood and crossed to me, lifting the hand that held my purse. “I slept. Now I’m awake.” That simple touch quieted my trepidation to a dull buzz, easy to ignore under the thud of my heart. That’s what Hudson did to me, overwhelmed and astounded me in such a beautifully delicious way.

He took my purse from me and moved to set it on the end table.

Without his contact, my nerves returned and mindless small talk slipped from my lips. “I’ve never been in a penthouse before. Unless you count the loft.” The loft above his office, the place where he’d f*cked me to oblivion. Thank god the dark room hid my blush. “This is beautiful, H.”

“You’ve barely seen any of it.” He didn’t cringe at my absurd nickname for him. Perhaps he was getting used to it.

“But what I can see…” My eyes scanned the expansive living room, noting the ornate detail of the architecture and the simplicity of the styling. “It’s incredible.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s much different than I expected. Not like the loft. That’s what I thought it would be like.” The loft was black and leather, masculine and strong. This place was white and light—I could tell that even in the low glow of the lamp and the moon.


“Alayna.”

My name on his tongue sent goose bumps to the surface of my skin. How could he still do that to me? Turn me on with only a word? Turn me into knots so easily?

“The furniture is so different, too.” Nervousness drove me to talk, avoiding the connection we’d make the minute I gave in. I stepped toward the white sofa and ran my hand across the expensive upholstery. “But Celia decorated this place too, right?”

His voice tightened. “She did.”

Celia Werner, his childhood friend and ex-fiancée. Well, not really, but practically. Why had I brought her up? Was I trying to destroy us? Celia had been a constant source of tension in our relationship since Hudson had hired me to convince his mother that we were together. Sophia Pierce, believing her son was incapable of love, thought a pairing with the daughter of her good friends the Werners was a perfect match for Hudson. Even if he couldn’t feel anything for her, Celia could at least keep him in line—keep him from getting in trouble with his addictions.

Except it turned out Hudson could love. And during our ruse, he’d fallen in love with me.

Still, Hudson had something with Celia, a bond that fueled my jealousy. Deflecting, I moved to the windows. “The view here… “

“Alayna.”

I pressed my face against the glass and looked down to the world far below. “It’s gorgeous.”

Hudson came up behind me, his warmth emanating against my back even though he hadn’t yet touched me. “Alayna, look at me.”

Slowly, I turned to him.

He lifted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’re nervous. Don’t be. I want you here.”

His words were the consolation I needed, sending calm over every part of my worry like a blanket smothering a fire. “Are you sure?” I’d been eased, but I wanted more where that came from. “You’ve never brought a woman here before, have you? It’s weird, isn’t it?”

His thumb stroked my cheek, my skin awakening under his caress. “It’s different, because I haven’t brought a woman here, but it’s not weird. And I am completely sure that I want you to be here.”

I thrilled at the confirmation that I was the first woman he’d allowed in, the first woman he’d make love to in this house. “Me, too. I mean, I’m sure that I want to be here.” His gaze burned into me. I could get lost there forever and that scared me just enough.

Looking for a way to keep myself, for only a moment longer, I glanced over at the room connected to the living room. “What’s over there? Is that the dining room?”

“I’ll give you a tour in the morning.” He brought his other hand up to cradle my face, capturing my eyes again with his.

“A tour in the morning,” I repeated. And there I went—lost to him. “But not now.”

“No, not now. Now I want to welcome you to my home.” His mouth crashed into mine, taking me to dizzying heights that put the view behind me to shame. His lips sucked my own before his tongue slid inside my mouth with delicious strokes that threw me off balance, provoking me to throw my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

He moved a hand from my face to wrap around my waist and pulled me into him where I could feel his erection against my thigh through the thin material of his boxers. His other hand reached behind my head to tangle in my hair. I pressed my breasts into him, needing to feel him with every part of my body.

A moan caught in the back of Hudson’s throat, vibrating underneath our kiss and kindling the desire in my belly. I shifted, trying to get closer, my leg antsy to hook around him.

His lips still wrapped around mine, he said, “I do have one room I want to show you tonight.”

“I hope it’s the bedroom.”

“It is.” In a blur of motion, he lifted me in his arms and headed back to the foyer I’d come from. Just like that he carried me away, the movement imitating the effect he had on me in general—with him, I was a branch in a roaring river, rushing toward the sea. And Hudson, he was the current, pulling me whichever way he wanted to take me. I was at his mercy.

He’d promised me that he wouldn’t play his manipulative games with me, that he’d never try to control me. But it was a promise he couldn’t keep. He swept me away with him whether he intended to or not. And that was perfectly fine with me.

He carried me through the foyer, kissing me as he did until we reached the end of the hallway where he turned into what had to be the master bedroom. My attention still entirely on him, I only registered that he was laying me on a king-size bed, the light gray sheets disheveled on one side, the left side. His side. The intimacy of being in the place that Hudson slept, had slept in earlier that evening, shot a pang of need to my already aching core. I wanted him on me and in me, not standing above me gazing down with hooded eyes.

He’d take his time with me though, and there was no use disputing his tempo. There was no reason to dispute. Though a dominant lover, he always focused his attention on my needs, always attended to me in the ways he knew best. And god, did he know me best, knew how to turn my body boneless and sated, knew how to arouse and love me, even when I didn’t.

His hand lagged down the length of my leg to my ankle where he removed my strappy sandal with a gentleness that had me writhing. He repeated the action with my other shoe, then knelt over me to deliver a brief kiss. I reached up to pull him in for more, but he resisted.

“Last time we went quickly. This time I need to savor you.” Last time had been fast and fraught, a reprieve mid-argument, on the new couch in the manager’s office at The Sky Launch, and he hadn’t left me with any complaints. But being savored sounded pretty damn awesome, too.

With a trail of wet kisses, he made his way down my body to the hem of my dress. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he shoved the material up around my waist, placing a kiss on the center of my want.

A moan escaped my lips and he chuckled softly. His fingers slipped under the band of my panties, pulling them off and tossing them aside. He hooked my leg over his shoulder and then his mouth was back on me, licking and sucking greedily at the bundle of nerves between my thighs.

I was already delirious from pleasure when he slipped two fingers inside me, probing and twisting until he pulled my orgasm from me with ease. I shuddered and quaked while he climbed up to reclaim my mouth where he kissed me with deep hunger.

The soft sounds he made as he devoured me, the taste of me on his tongue, the jab of his cock in my thigh—it was only half a minute before the tightness built again in my belly, ready for another ride up the hill to ecstasy. Drawn to touch him, my hand found his cock and rubbed it through his underwear.

His mouth broke from mine with a groan. I nudged at him to roll to his side while I continued to stroke him. “Boxers? Do you wear these often?”

“To bed.”

“I like them. I’ve never seen you in them.” My hand slipped inside the opening of his shorts, marveling as I always did at the softness of his thick shaft in my hand, at the heat rolling off his skin.

“Because when I go to bed with you—” His voice broke as I ran my hand across his crown. “I wear nothing.”

“Oh, yeah. I like that even better.” It was my turn to slip my hand into the band of his underwear and pull them down his strong legs, my eyes pinned on the gorgeous sight of his erection as I did.


As soon as his boxers hit the floor, he drew me to him again. “I like it when you’re wearing nothing.” His fingers were already tugging my dress up over my belly. “You need to be wearing nothing right now.”

“I won’t argue.” I sat up to help him pull the outfit over my head. He tossed the dress aside and his hands circled around me to unhook my bra, freeing my breasts. Then he was stretched out over me, his penis hot at my entrance for only a second before he plunged inside of me, penetrating me, stretching me, filling me the way only he could.

He turned to his side, taking me with him, and I wrapped a leg around him, urging him deeper. He’d wanted to savor me, but either he changed his mind or he couldn’t contain himself, unleashing his passion with rapid thrusts. Each time he drove in, he hit a tender spot that made me crazy, drawing another climax to surface, starting in my core, tightening my thighs, traveling down to curl my toes as it rolled through my body.

Hudson continued his assault, increasing his speed until he grunted out his own release. He collapsed, still inside me, and gathered me in his arms to spread kisses down my face—an unusually tender gesture from the guarded man I’d grown to love. I delighted in the sweetness of it.

“Did I mention that I’m awfully glad you’re here?” he asked, breaking his sentence to continue his trail of kisses.

Hearing those words meant everything. I recognized it as Hudson’s version of I love you. He hadn’t brought himself to say it to me directly—he was too new to the emotion, and I didn’t expect it. Though he had accepted it earlier in the evening when I’d informed him that I knew he was in love with me, and he hadn’t freaked when I told him I was in love with him.

Still, I didn’t fool myself into thinking we’d have instant hearts and roses. Baby steps. Saying how he felt at all was a step in itself. That it included how he felt about me equaled two steps in my book.

I ran my hand through his hair as his mouth lowered to my neck. “You did say it. And if you hadn’t, I think I figured it out.” I waggled my eyebrows to make sure he knew I was referring to what had just occurred physically. “But you can tell me as many times as you’d like.” In as many different ways as you’d like, I added silently.

He shifted over me and sucked further down my body, heading toward my breasts. Obviously, we were already headed for round two. “I’m glad you’re here, precious.” He tugged my nipple between his teeth then eased the sting with a swirl of his tongue.

I drew in a deep breath, delighting in the mix of pleasure and pain as he showered my other breast with the same attention. His nickname for me, precious, floated through my mind as his mouth licked at my skin. He’d called me that since our first sexual encounter, nearly two weeks before. Had it only been that long? And had it only been another week before that when I’d first met him at the club, when I didn’t yet know he was the Hudson Pierce? It already seemed like a lifetime. The term of endearment he used for me had held weight from the first moment he’d said it. But we’d only just met then. Maybe it didn’t have as much meaning as I attributed to it.

Curiosity overtook me even though my body was already vibrating under his ardor. “Why do you call me that, anyway?”

He answered without looking up from my bosom. “Because you are.”

“You started calling me precious before you could ever possibly know.”

“Not true.” He propped his elbow up on the bed and leaned his head on his hand. “I knew the minute I first saw you.”

For a brief second I thought he meant at the bar—the first night I had seen him. Then I remembered he’d seen me nearly two weeks before that when I was still working on my MBA and he’d been in the audience during my graduate symposium. I hadn’t found out about that until later, and he’d barely told me anything about it.

I propped my torso up on my elbows and eagerly waited for him to continue.

“You were on that stage at Stern,” he said, his hand stroking along the dip and curve of my waist to my hip. “When you started your presentation, you were nervous. It took you a few minutes to fall into the rhythm of your speech. But when you hit your stride, you were magnificent. Yet you had no idea. It was completely obvious that it never crossed your mind that the room was full of people who would have hired you had you spoken to any of them. Thank god, you didn’t. Because I watched them watch you and I knew. I knew that they saw you were smart. They saw you had business savvy. But none of them recognized the rare jewel that stood before them. Precious.”

Tears stung at the corners of my eyes. No one had ever seen me like that, no had ever even looked. Not my parents before they died or my brother, Brian, or any of the men I’d ever dated or obsessed over. No one.

“I love you, Hudson.” It was out before I could think not to say it, before I could worry about him freaking like he had the first time I’d voiced my feelings for him. I wouldn’t have been able to keep the words inside if I’d wanted to—they were always at the surface now, at risk of tumbling off my tongue at any given moment. If we were going to make a relationship work, we’d both have to get comfortable with it.

My eyes never left his while he processed my declaration.

Then, in a flash, he covered his body with mine. Bracing one hand under my neck, he circled my nose with his. “You can tell me that as many times as you like,” he said, repeating my earlier words.

“I plan on it.” But it came out mumbled, lost inside his mouth as his lips overtook mine, and we expressed our emotions with our tongues and hands and bodies and a slew of other ways that didn’t require talking.