The Fixed Trilogy by Laurelin Paige
“I should have.” His tone was filled with regret.
“Yes, you should have.” It would have made things much clearer to me about his relationships with both Celia and his father. And it had been yet another thing that stood as a wall between us—though most of the secrets keeping us apart had been mine. That was my regret.
Hudson released his hands from mine and swept them down my ribs. “It didn’t feel like it was my secret to tell.”
“Okay, that’s fair.” I shivered as his fingers kneaded the skin at my hips. He was getting restless, wanting more, wanting me. The time for talking was nearing an end. I had to jump to the meat of my concerns. “But some things have to change between us. We have to be able to share these things with each other. You could have at least told me you had good reasons not to trust her, reasons I shouldn’t trust her.”
“And you could have honored my wishes when I said don’t see her.”
“Yes, I could have.” I let out a sigh. “We both have to change. We have to put everything on the line, Hudson, as much as possible. We know now that we’re together, thick and thin, right? We have to trust that more than anything. We can’t be afraid of our secrets and our pasts. Both of us. Honesty, open doors, transparency.”
He cocked a brow. “Nakedness?”
Yep, I was losing him. “You’re such a perv.”
“I agree.” He leaned forward again to lick a bead of water from my nipple. “I am a perv where you’re concerned.”
I smirked. Which was difficult considering how his tongue on my breast made me crazy. “Hudson, stop. I’m serious.”
“I know.” He leaned back against the tub. “And I agree with everything else you said. We need to be honest.”
“Good.” I put my hand up to stop him before he resumed his seduction. “Hold on. I have one more thing.”
“Okay, what?”
He was getting impatient but trying not to show it. I almost decided to leave the rest of our conversation for later. But the memory of my nightmare and the cold foreboding feeling that lingered in my chest pushed me forward. “What happened between you and Stacy?”
“Stacy?” He seemed confused. “Mirabelle’s Stacy?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing happened.” He was bewildered by my question. “What do you mean? Like did I date her? I took her to a charity event a year or so ago. But after that, nothing.”
“And I didn’t sleep with her,” he added before I had to ask.
That was comforting. But that wasn’t the reason she concerned me. “Is there a reason she’d have a vendetta against you? Or reason to distrust you?”
He shook his head slowly. “Not that I can think of.”
“She wasn’t one of your past victims?”
“Victims?” His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you call the people I played with?”
I cringed. “Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words?”
“No. It probably is the best choice. That doesn’t make it pleasant to hear.”
“I’m sorry.”
His features darkened. “Don’t be. It’s my past. I have to live with it. Why are you asking?”
I took a deep breath. We were putting everything on the line, after all. This was part of it. “The last time we were at Mira’s, Stacy told me that she had some sort of video. A video that proved something or other about you and Celia. She didn’t have it with her, so I gave her my phone number so she could contact me later.”
“The last time we were at Mira’s together?”
“Yeah. She cornered me while you were finding me shoes. Do you know what she’s talking about?” I studied his face, trying to pick up on anything he might be hiding.
“No idea.” Either he was really good at acting or he truly had no clue. I’d never seen him so perplexed. “She didn’t tell you what the video was of?”
“No. Just that she had it and that it would show me why I couldn’t trust you.” I bit my lip. “And she texted me again tonight. Or sometime this past week when I didn’t have a phone, and I didn’t get the message until tonight.”
I expected him to ask why I hadn’t told him earlier, but he didn’t. “What did her text say?”
“That the video was too big to send over the phone but to contact her if I wanted to see it.”
He considered. “Do you want to see it?”
“No.” But I kind of did. “Yes.” Unless I didn’t. “I don’t know. Should I?”
“Well.” He rubbed his hands up my arms. “You know that Celia can’t be trusted already. And there is nothing that Stacy could have on me that you don’t already know. You know more about my secrets and my past than anyone. You know me, Alayna.”
“I do.”
“Then unless you don’t trust me…”
“I do trust you. If you say there’s nothing I should be concerned about…”
His eyes locked on mine. “There isn’t.”
I paused. The minute I said my next words, I couldn’t take them back. I’d have to put the video out of my mind and move on. It went against all my obsessive tendencies—could I do it?
I believed I could. For Hudson. I smiled. “Then I don’t need to see it.” It was easier to say than I would have imagined. And I meant it. I didn’t need the proof of other people to know who Hudson was, what he meant to me.
It was amazing how much better I felt having the subject of the video off my chest. It no longer felt like a weight on me, though there was still some lingering edginess that probably just needed time to distill.
Hudson leaned forward and kissed my chin. “Thank you.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For being open with me.” He tilted his head. “You didn’t have to tell me about that, and you did anyway.”
“I’m serious about being more open and honest.”
“I see that. I’m serious about it too. The only way we can move on is to decide that we’re committed to each other first and foremost.” His eyes rose to meet mine. “Are we?”
They were only two short words, but the weight of the question was heavy—heavier than when he’d asked me to be his girlfriend or to move in. And yet it was with ease and certainty that I responded. “I am.”
“So am I.” He captured my mouth with his, sucking lightly on my bottom lip before his tongue flicked inside, twisting with mine in an erotic dance of foreplay. I threw my hands around his neck, pulling myself closer into him. His cock thickened between us and my pussy clenched in reaction, wanting and needing him as much as his kiss said he needed me.
Without releasing my mouth, Hudson moved a hand to my breast. He was such an expert at handling me in the way I needed, his touch never too gentle, always just the right amount of rough. I cried against his lips as he squeezed my tit, driving me mad. I was so concentrated on his attention to my chest, I didn’t notice his other hand traveling lower until his thumb was rubbing against my clit. I jolted at the exquisite pressure, my knees clutching his hips. I was already feeling the tight sensation in my lower belly building toward eruption. So soon, too soon.
I was on top, and wanting to delay my explosion until we could go together, I pushed away his hand from my core. Hudson’s eyes closed slightly as I circled my grip around his thick erection. I stroked him once before shifting my weight forward onto my kneecaps. Positioning myself over him, I slid down his hard length, moaning as he filled me.
I sat atop him, sitting still for several seconds as my body adjusted to his size, my walls expanding to make room for him. Damn, he felt good. Just like that, without any movement—he felt made for me, as though his penis had been carved to fit my pussy and mine alone. I shuddered at the carnal thoughts that intensified the heavenly sensation of him inside me.
He shifted beneath me, his impatience evident. So I moved, riding him. Slowly at first, then more determined. My hands braced against his shoulders, pushing me off with the force I knew Hudson desired, the force I desired. It wasn’t long before his hands we
“Do you always have to take over?” I asked, breathless. Not that I minded. I enjoyed being on the other end of his control.
His lip curled at the edge. “If you want us both to come, then yes.”
I laughed, the action causing him to twitch inside me, bringing me to the brink. When I could speak again, I asked, “And who is it that wouldn’t come if I stayed in control?”
“You.” His fingers tightened at my hips and, as if to prove his point, he pushed deeper into me, brushing against a spot—that spot, the one that always did it for me, the one that only he could find and that he found each and every time.
My orgasm came suddenly, taking me by surprise. I gasped, digging my fingernails into his skin as I rode the wave of ecstasy that passed through my every nerve, shooting down my limbs and clouding my vision.
Hudson’s tempo didn’t abate as I crumpled on top of him. He continued to thrust towards his own climax, driving toward that intangible goalpost. And then he was crossing the finish line, grinding against my clit as he spilled into me, causing another shudder from my already limp body.
While he settled, he kissed along my neck, along my jawline, finally making it to my lips where he sweetly lingered, adoring me with his mouth until our heart rates returned to a more normal pace.
Then he pulled away and met my eyes. His brow furrowed. “Alayna.” Hudson cradled my face. “What is it, precious?”
It took me a beat to understand his question. Then I realized that tears were leaking down my face. And then they were more than tears. Uncontrollable sobs broke through me as though a great well of grief had been released.
Embarrassed and unable to explain my outburst, I pushed away and climbed out of the tub.
“Alayna, talk to me.” He was behind me, wrapping a towel around my body as he dripped onto the floor.
I shook my head and ran to the bedroom.
Hudson followed. He grabbed my upper arms and turned me toward him. “Talk to me. What is it?”
My body heaved with the anguish. It wasn’t a new pain, but one that had been with me for the better part of a week. I just hadn’t fully expressed it yet—not to Hudson, not to myself.
“You. Really. Hurt me,” I managed. The words were broken and hard to get out between sobs.
“Just now?”
“No.” I swallowed and tried to calm myself enough to speak. “You really hurt me. With Celia. When you believed her. Instead of me.” The pain was so raw, so fresh. Even though he’d made amends and we were together, the remnants of that betrayal still clung to me. I’d tried to move on before the scar had formed, and now, unexpectedly, the wound reopened.
“Oh, Alayna.” He pulled me into his chest. “Tell me. Tell me all of it. I need to hear it.”
“It hurts, Hudson. It hurts so much.” I took a ragged breath. “Even though you’re here. Now. And we’re together. There’s a hole.” My sentences were short and broken. “A deep, deep hole.”
His body tensed around me and I felt the degree to which he shared my grief. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, if I could change how I reacted…I would have chosen differently.”
“I know. I do. But you didn’t choose differently. And you can’t take that back.” My voice strengthened as the ache inside surfaced. Like I was throwing up. Once it started, there was no stopping, and the process was uncomfortable and suffocating.
I pulled away from him, still in his arms, but no longer buried in him. “You can never take that back.”
“No. I can’t.” He pushed my wet hair off my shoulders.
“And that changes things. It changes me.”
He paused, worry etching his face. “How?”
“It makes me vulnerable. Exposed.” I suddenly became aware that he was wearing nothing. It was fitting. Because, even though I was wrapped in a towel, I’d never been more naked in front of him. “And you know now. That you can hurt me.” I choked as my tears returned. “You can hurt me real bad.”
“Alayna.” He pulled me back into him, his voice thick with emotion. “My precious girl. I never want to hurt you again. Will you ever be able to…forgive me?”
I nodded, unable to respond verbally. Yes, I could forgive him. I already had. But it didn’t change how much it hurt. It didn’t change how much healing still had to occur.
Hudson rocked me in his arms as I cried, intermittently kissing my head and apologizing. After a while, he swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. He curled up with me, holding me against him.
When I’d finally finished with the tears, I sat up against the headboard with a hiccup. “Huh. I don’t know where that came from.”
He sat up next to me, wiping my cheeks. “You needed to let it out. I understand.”
“You do?”
“I do.” He put a tentative arm around me. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
“Yes! Please, don’t leave.” I clutched him, afraid that he would go.
“As long as you want me, I’m here.”
“Good.” I relaxed, letting my heartbeat return to a normal pace. “All that?” I gestured abstractly, referring to my sob scene. “That was just…”
“Healing?”
“Yeah. Cathartic. The last step of all that before stuff. I think I have some closure now.” I felt cleansed—inside and out. I smiled as I traced Hudson’s lips with my finger.
“I admire your optimism, but old pain has a way of showing up from time to time, even when life is going well.” He caught my finger in his hand. “I’m sure we’ll both feel this way every now and then.”
I took a long breath in. I couldn’t stand that I’d hurt him too. It almost pained me as much as his betrayal.
“Don’t dwell on it.” His voice was soft. “We have the future to make up for the hurts we’ve caused each other.”
Right then, I was ready to dedicate my life to making up. Was I really thinking of us as forever? Well, at least long term.
I twisted my lips at the thought. “This is a new beginning for us, isn’t it?”
He leaned forward to brush my nose with his. “No. This is better than a beginning. This is what happens next.”
“I like that.”
He leaned in and kissed me, sweetly and luxuriously, with promises of all the other things that would happen next. As if there was nothing in the world to do but lavish me with love.
Chapter Three
Hudson called into the office the next morning, deciding to work from home. I’d already made arrangements to be gone from the club for the next several days so I didn’t bother going in either. We spent our time in the library, each of us working on our own projects, not talking much, which was fine. Exhausted from jet lag and lack of sleep, Hudson was in a mood. Even grumpy, I was glad for his presence. It was comforting just to be with him.
I did leave the apartment but only to get a wax and attend my group therapy that evening. When I returned, Hudson was passed out in our bed. I let him sleep.
Before I joined him, I got a run in on the treadmill and texted Stacy. Thanks, but no thanks, my message said. I probably didn’t need to respond at all, but it gave the issue finality. I slept soundlessly the whole night through.
The next day was a holiday—the Fourth of July. Hudson surprised me by taking me to brunch at the Loeb Boathouse in Central Park. Afterward, we walked through the park, holding hands and enjoying each other’s company. We were good—it felt right being with him. Easy.
Yet there was a tangible fragility between us. We were cautious with each other, handling one another with kid gloves. Hudson’s lingering fatigue didn’t help the situation.
Later, getting ready for the evening’s fireworks display, Hudson came up behind me as I primped in the bedroom mirror. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed along my neckline. “We’v
My breath caught sharply.
“And yes, that means that you’ll be fucked later. Hard.”
Just like that, our tentativeness was over. And I needed a change of panties.
***
Except for a few casual strokes and caresses, Hudson kept his hands to himself during our ride to the Firework Cruise. I had a feeling the minimal contact was purposeful. He was building the anticipation.
And, god, was it working.
The air between us was charged. His sexual promise remained ever present in my thoughts, turning me into a powder keg waiting for that one spark to light me on fire. He, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected—as though he hadn’t uttered those carnal words to me only an hour earlier.
It was late evening, the sun just beginning to set, when we arrived at the pier. Hudson didn’t wait for Jordan to open our door. He stepped out of the Maybach and reached for my hand to pull me out behind him. He was striking in his tan pants and dark suit jacket. He’d forgone the tie, leaving his white shirt unbuttoned to expose the top of his chest. The wind blew across the river that shared his name, mussing Hudson’s hair into sexy chaos. As always, he took my breath away.
The moment was short lived. Cameras clicking and people shouting Hudson’s name interrupted the reverie. Having been to only one other event with him where media was present, I wasn’t used to the attention.
But Hudson was.
Like he had the last time when I’d gone with him to his mother’s charity fashion event, he put on a show, pulling me into his side to pose for the cameras. He tactfully ignored many of the questions, only answering some with a simple yes or no.
“Is it true you’ve bought back your old company, Plexis?”
“Yes.”
“Are you planning to break the company apart?”
“No.”
“Is this your current girlfriend? Alayna Withers, is it?”