Hudson (12 page)

Then we swing around to the topic that has both of us on our toes—our relationship. Our wants are actually very much the same. She wants to be with me sexually without any attachment. I want to be with her sexually without any attachment. Yet, we both fear it’s not possible.

Pretending that I have any self-control when it comes to her, I tell her that sex in the future is her decision. I mean it at the moment, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist pushing her if it comes to that. I can’t resist her. I already know this. My intent, though, is what matters now, and she seems to appreciate it. We make headway, setting boundaries and terms. Just talking about it relaxes us both.

Until she brings up fidelity.

Alayna will not fuck others while she’s in a relationship with me. It’s not debatable. The mere idea of her touching another man makes my chest tighten, and I finally understand what it means to see red. And I’m back to feeling out of sorts and out of control. Because I’ve never felt this possessive about a woman I’m fucking. I’ve never demanded faithfulness. I’ve never offered it from myself. For the most part, I have been loyal to one lover at a time, but only because it was easier. Never because a sexual commitment actually meant something to me.

Alayna has agreed to fidelity, thank God, but she wants to know my intentions. Any other woman and I’d dodge the question. Or I’d find ways of making her forget she’d even asked. I don’t do that now.

Meeting Alayna’s eyes, I brace a palm on each of her legs. “I’m not a slut, Alayna. This loft has been used for sex, yes, but I have it so I can be close to my office, not for fucking.” I brush a strand of hair off her face, mostly to distract myself from the weight of what I can’t stop from saying. “I will be as faithful as I expect you to be.”

It feels right to give this to the girl in front of me. To say these words. They’re a promise that I know I’ll have no trouble keeping, but they scare the ever-living fuck out of me.

Apparently they scare the fuck out of her too, because suddenly she’s up and gathering her clothes. “I can’t think about this anymore right now.”

I stand as well, recognizing the emotion etched in her features. “Why are you panicking?” Though I haven’t had much experience with this type of scenario, this is certainly not the reaction I expected.

She turns on me, her eyes blazing with rage. “You know, it’s all very good and fine for you to say you want a committed sexual relationship. You’ll have no problem remaining unemotionally involved—that’s your default. It’s not my default. Don’t you see what you’re asking of me might be impossible for me to deliver?”

She’s on the verge of tears. I’ve seen tears—many, many times. I’ve gloried in them. They are often the sign of a victory on my part. I’ve also studied them. They’ve fascinated me and intrigued me.

Though not a single tear has escaped her eyes yet, I know that I do not want to see Alayna cry.

I reach for her, but she pulls away.

“The more we have sex, Hudson, the more I’m likely to latch on, and even if you were into that, you wouldn’t be into the level that I latch. So, trust me when I say this has bad idea written all over it. Let’s call this a wonderful—oh, my God, such a wonderful evening—and now we need to move on.”

My moment of compassion—if that’s what it was—disappears and I am left hardened. “If that’s what you need.”

“I do. And I need a shower. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. In there.” I point out the way. “I’ll bring you some towels.”

She disappears into the bathroom, and I head for the linen closet. As I pile two fluffy towels into my arms, I consider my mood. A few minutes ago, I was unbalanced and apprehensive. Now, I’m…numb. Like I am most of the time. Honestly, it should be an improvement. The strange way I’ve been acting around Alayna is unsettling.

Yet underneath the numbness, there’s something else. Something tugging at the corners of my guard trying to get out. Feeling of some sort. It’s pleasant, in a way. But also not at all.

Suddenly I want that more than anything. The something else. It’s a compulsion that impels me into the bathroom where I set the towels on the counter. I strip and then I’m sliding in the shower to join her. It’s not what she wants, she said she needed time, but here I am, unable to help myself.

She turns into me with no surprise on her face. Then her lips are on mine and any doubt I had about my actions disappears. I kiss her long enough to let her know I’m in charge. When I’ve left her breathless, I wash her. I explore her body in all the ways I haven’t yet. I speak to her like this. I have so much that I need to say to her, and this is the only way I can. The only way I know how—rubbing her, caressing her, learning her. I leave no part of her untouched.

When I brush my fingers past her clit, she moans and leans into me.

I suppose it was a bit manipulative—getting her to this point. I’ve aroused her and wound her up. For once, though, my actions were not purposeful. I’m here because I can’t
not
be.

“Hudson.” She says my name and it’s infused with as much confusion as I feel.

None of this has been planned or premeditated. I don’t know who I am in this moment. I rely on instinct, thrusting two fingers inside her pussy. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes!” She gasps. “I mean, no. I want you.”

There’s a part of me that wants to sit on the bench in the walk-in shower and figure out everything going on in my head. I ignore that part and focus on the other part of me—the new part that wants only to please and tease and adore the woman in my arms.

“You’ll have to wait,” I tell her. “I’m enjoying making you wait.”

I work her, squeezing her clit and fucking her with my fingers until she’s moaning and writhing and digging her nails into my shoulders. Just as she’s about to come, I pull away. “I need to be washed too.”

I’m playing with her now, but it’s in fun. When was the last time I played like this? Without any malice? Without any need to examine? I’m not sure that I ever have.

She plays back, and I wonder if it’s new for her as well. Something about the way her hands touch me, the way she tentatively brushes my cock—I’m certain it is new for her. She strokes me once, twice. At the third stroke, I can’t take it anymore. Playtime is over.

Or it’s just beginning.

I lift her up. Her legs wrap around me and I press her back against the shower wall. I take her mouth in mine as I thrust inside her. I’m not gentle. I’m fierce, I’m forceful. Because those are the things between us. Those are the things we share. Vague intangible energy that pulls us both toward each other, into each other.

I pump her like this, quick and hard, even as she clenches down around me. I come fast after her.

We’re quiet as I towel her off and help her dress. She has to go now. She has to get to work. I wrap a towel around my waist and walk her to the door.

Despite our silence, it’s not awkward between us. I sense that she’s…
absorbing
. As I am. There’s a lot to take in. Though I can’t begin to even process any of it. So after I’ve kissed her and sent her on her way, I decide to
not
process. I turn my brain off and simply let the evening settle around me.

I’ve never stayed overnight at the loft after having a woman here. I prefer to be in my own bed without the lingering scent of sex and female. With Alayna gone now, however, I can’t make myself leave. I throw on a pair of boxers and climb into the sheets that still smell like her.

Chapter Eleven

Before

Christina swept her tongue along my crown, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Stop fucking teasing,” I hissed. A blowjob in a hidden alcove at Cipriani 42nd Street hadn’t been in my plans for the evening. But when my one-night fling from the summer arrived at The Pierce Industry Annual Thanksgiving Eve Charity Gala with her lips painted in
Fuck Me Red
, my agenda had been altered.

“Tell me what you want then, Mr. Pierce?” She was playing at some hot fantasy where she was my employee and I was her boss. It wasn’t necessary as far as I was concerned, but it got her mouth on my dick without much work, so I went along.

“I want you to fucking suck it. Like a good girl.” I flicked my finger at her cheek. “Open up.” She complied, shaping her lips into an “O” before wrapping them around my hard cock. “Yeah, like that.”

I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of her warm, moist mouth cocooned around my dick. There were few things that I enjoyed in this world as much as getting head. It was the only situation where I could sit back and think completely of myself. I didn’t care if the girl was turned on or enjoying it. Examinations of human nature were put on hold. Fellatio was about simple pleasure—
my
pleasure.

With one hand pumping the base, Christina drew her mouth up and down over my swollen cock. Her other hand reached below to fondle my balls. She wasn’t very original with her play, but she had spirit. And honestly, even mediocre blowjobs are fucking fantastic.

As for her tempo…it was on the slow side. That could be remedied. I tangled my hands into her hair, messing up her carefully coifed bun. It took her a moment, but soon she relinquished control and that’s when things got good. I drove into her at an aggressive speed. With each thrust I hit the back of her throat, the tickling on my crown sending me closer to the brink. I glanced down at the erotic sight—her eyes watered as my cock fucked her mouth. Even as I pounded harder, faster, she allowed me to control the experience.

“Keep up, Christina. Fuck me with your greedy little mouth.”

Her lips tightened around me. She was so willing, so submissive. How strange that she didn’t find it completely debasing. She struggled to catch a breath and the hard floor had to be a bitch on her knees. The demeaning nature of the situation only added to the eroticism. My climax came rushing toward me. I had time to warn her, but I didn’t want to give her a chance to pull away. I spurted into her, holding her head in place so that she had no choice but to swallow.

“That’s a good bitch. Swallow it all.”

Like a champ, she even licked me clean.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Jesus, that had felt good. A perfect distraction from my parents’ dismal casino night.

After I’d tucked myself back into my tuxedo pants, I helped Christina to her feet. “Very good, Ms. Brooke. I suppose I’ll have to approve your vacation request after all.”

She wiped at her lips before giving me a seductive smile. “Thank you, Mr. Pierce. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

“I think that’s all, Ms. Brooke.” If she wanted me to return the favor, it wasn’t happening. I’d been there and done that, and there were plenty of fresh cunts at the event to choose from if I decided I wanted to get off again before the night was over.

However, it was never good to burn bridges, so I tugged her close and whispered at her ear. “I have to get back to this boring party. But if I find another chance to get away…” I bit at her lobe.

“Right. Got it.” She was smiling when I released her.

Mission accomplished.

She pulled at the few pins that I hadn’t already dislodged from her hair, gathering them into a pile in her hand. “You need to get out there and practice for when you’re hosting this event. It won’t be long now, I’m sure.”

I did have plans to work for my father over Christmas Break. He’d already given me preliminaries on some of his accounts. “When I’m in charge, I’ll own the nightclubs we party at.” Made much more sense than spending a fortune to rent out another venue. Especially when the evening was for charity. I’d seen the event expenses. It was hard to imagine there was anything left to donate after all the bills were paid.

“Smart thinking, boss.”

I cringed. Now that we weren’t immersed in the fantasy, the remnants of it left a bad taste. It was time to excuse myself from my date of the moment.

“Have you heard anything from Celia?”

That question, however, kept me interested in Christina for a bit longer. “Not since summer.” Not since that night she’d fucked my father. I’d made sure to avoid her until she’d gone back to school in California a few days later. Having been at school myself, I’d heard little of her and had often wondered how my experiment had affected her semester. This was a chance to find out. “Have you?”

“I went to see her a couple months ago,” Christina said, picking up her handbag from the floor. She tucked the pins into a side pocket. “She was a fucking mess.”

Now that was interesting. “What do you mean by mess?”

“Partying. Drugs. She was doing a shit-ton of cocaine when I saw her. And talk about slut—she spread her legs for any guy who gave her the time of day.”

I wiped at my mouth, trying to decide how to evaluate the information. It was probably a coincidence. Her behavior couldn’t have been because of me. Could it?

“That’s too bad.” I actually meant it.

“Rumor has it,” Christina narrowed her eyes at me, “that she was nursing a broken heart.”

“Are you blaming her self-destruction on me?” The idea didn’t sit well. While I’d never cared what happened to my subjects after I’d concluded my experiments, Celia was different. She was family, in a way. Again I resolved myself not to scheme anymore with people I knew.

Christina chuckled. “She’s a big girl. She’s responsible for her own destruction. I just thought you’d want to know.”

I shrugged. I
did
want to know, but I didn’t need Christina knowing that.

“She’s in town for the holiday.”

I shrugged again.

“You know, Hudson? You’re kind of an asshole.”

It was my turn to laugh. “And you’re just figuring this out now?”

“No. I knew.” She pulled her fingers through her tangled hair. “And I still let you fuck me. So obviously I don’t really care.”

Too bad I didn’t give a shit about people. Christina and I might have made a good team.

As it was, I was done with her. I paused, devising a way to escape. In the end, I simply nodded toward the restrooms. “You should clean yourself up. Have a good Thanksgiving if I don’t see you again.” I left her before she had a chance to respond.

Back in the main room, I found myself scanning the casino tables for Celia. It was silly to think she’d be at the event. Her parents weren’t even there, and Celia wouldn’t have come without them, but I wanted to see her. Wanted to know if she was really
a mess
. Something in me needed to know that she wasn’t.

I wasn’t expecting to find the answer I was seeking. My survey of the place, though, led me to another sight I hadn’t been expecting—my mother, climbing onto a blackjack table.

Goddammit.

She’d been a drinker most of my life, so I was used to all her modes of intoxication. Usually, she kept her shit together in public. Whatever made her go overboard tonight, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But someone had to rescue her, or at least keep her from embarrassing herself or the family.

My father was already helping her down when I arrived at the scene. He smiled, like it was all in fun. “Sophia, now how many times have I told you that isn’t the way you play twenty-one?”

The handful of spectators laughed. Jack Pierce, shithead that he was, always did have a way with a crowd.

My mother blinked a couple of times, as if trying to clear her vision. “There you are. I was climbing up there to get a better view of the room so I could figure out where you’d wandered off to.”

She could still speak without slurring her words. So she wasn’t as intoxicated as I’d imagined.

My mother pinned her stare on the blonde standing next to my father. “Is this the latest? I should have known. When you disappear, it’s usually with a tram—”

I stepped in before she could finish her sentence. “Mother, walk with me, will you?”

“And leave him alone with his bi—”

My father cut her off this time. “It’s okay, Hudson. Of course you won’t be leaving me, sweetheart. I’m going with you.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and began escorting her toward the exit.

While my mother has been known for false accusations, the glance he threw back at the blonde gave him away. Not to my mother—she already knew. But now I knew too that the woman at his side was not just an acquaintance. The look he gave her said he’d be back later for her. In other words, he was just putting my mother in a car before returning.

No wonder Sophia Pierce felt the need to get a little too drunk at her husband’s company party.
Fucking asshole.

I rubbed my hand across my jaw and considered whether I wanted to stay any longer myself. Though there was plenty of room for me at the penthouse where my parents lived, I’d been staying at the Plaza, so if I left, I wouldn’t have to deal with my mother. But maybe I should go to the penthouse anyway. It wasn’t the newest nanny’s job to take care of a drunken employer. And Sophia might get to keep a shred of dignity if I were the one to attend to her.

I was already at the coatroom when I’d made my decision to leave. The clerk had just handed me my coat when I found a reason to stay. Celia Werner had just walked in, hands thrust in her jacket pockets, her attire nowhere near formal.

She walked toward me. My surprise at seeing her kept me glued to my spot, my mouth slack as I looked her over. Though she wasn’t dressed for the event, she didn’t like the mess that Christina had suggested. Either Celia had cleaned up in the last couple of months or the rumors about her had been exaggerated.

I couldn’t decide if that made me happy or disappointed.

“Do you want to check your coat?” the clerk asked when Celia reached us.

She shook her head and fixed her gaze on me.

I’d had enough time now to gather my wits. “You’re too late, Celia. My father just left. But if you want to wait, I think he’s coming back. He already has a leggy blonde picked out for the evening, though. Do you mind threesomes?”

“I’m not here for Jack, asshole.”

I tensed at the familiar use of my father’s name. “That’s too bad. No one else is going to look at you dressed like that.”

“You want to stand around and throw insults at me all night? Or can you zip it a minute so I can talk to you?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Awesome. Then you can shut the fuck up and listen while I talk.”

I hesitated, wondering what her angle was. Then I decided I didn’t care enough to find out. “While that sounds like a whole hell of a lot of fun, Celia, I think I’ll pass.” I tipped the clerk and started out.

“Hudson.” Her tone was more commanding than was typical for her. Still, I kept walking. “Fine,” she said, running to catch up to me. “I’ll find your father then.”

That stopped me. Though they’d already been together, I detested the idea of a repeat performance. I’d rather imagine my father fucking anyone else—the blonde waiting for him in the event room, even. Just not Celia.

I’d never let on how much it bothered me, but I would try to prevent it any way I could. “What is it you want, Celia?”

Her eyes darted toward the clerk. “Not here. We need to be in private.”

“I’m not—” A noise at the door down the hall stole my attention. It was my father returning from “taking care” of my mother. He hadn’t seen us yet, so I grabbed Celia’s arm and tugged her toward the men’s room. At the door, I said, “Stay.” I went in and checked to make sure the room was empty then I pulled Celia inside.

As I locked the door behind us, there was a brief moment where I considered how different our lives could have been if it hadn’t been for my experiment that summer. How I could have been sneaking away with Celia for a bang in a stall instead of hiding her from my slut of a father. Or maybe not that. I hadn’t ever wanted that, had I?

Something different, though. Not this.

But as Thoreau said, “Never look back unless you’re planning to go that way.” And I was not going that way. Come to think of it, Celia was the one who’d told me that.

I turned back to face her. “You have three minutes. Then I’m taking you out to the curb and putting you in a cab. I’ll even give you some cash, if that’s how you’re used to getting paid.”

Her eyes blazed with the heat of my insult. “Did I mention
fuck you
, Hudson?”

“I don’t get off on my father’s sloppy seconds. Sorry.” I looked at my watch for effect. “And now you’re at two minutes forty-five.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter, her eyes narrow with challenge. “I’m willing to bet that I’ll have your attention for longer than that.”

Again, a glance at my watch. “Two minutes forty.”

“I knew I should have talked to Jack instead.”

She’d realized that mentioning my father was her power card. She’d laid it down several times now. Each time it worked.

But I was losing patience. This was the last time I’d ask and my tone let her know that. “What the fuck is it, Celia?”

She brushed the hair off her face and swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

I opened my mouth to make some smartass remark—it wasn’t
my
kid after all—and then I realized whose kid it was. I did the math as I glanced at her belly. It had been three months. Would she be showing? Did she look rounder than she had before or was I making it up?

Or was
she
making it up? All of it could be a lie.

“Are you trying to figure out if I’m lying? Oh, my God. I can prove it if you need me to. Trust me, pregnancy is not something I’d be able to lie about for long.”

While my trust in people was limited, I knew Celia well enough to believe she told the truth. I didn’t like what she had to say, but I believed her.