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.