Hudson

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Hudson Page 20

by Laurelin Paige


  The thought gives me pause—is that what I’ve decided then? That I’m leaving her?

  It’s unbearable, but it’s possible that it’s inevitable.

  Only a few minutes have passed after Celia turns onto the highway before she speaks. “How long are you going to keep me waiting?”

  I scrub my face with my hands. “What do you want to know, Celia?”

  “Don’t be a fucking dick, Hudson.” Her glare is apparent even behind her dark sunglasses. “You know what I want.”

  I do know. She wants a progress report, so to say. How can I answer? I’m still reeling from my recent self-discoveries. I’m lost. There’s nowhere I can turn in this maze without hitting a wall. I have no hope of escape. The question is—does Alayna?

  I’m not an impulsive person, but I make a spur-of-the-moment decision. And though there is nothing ideal about it, I know it’s the best choice I can make. So I commit to it with everything I have. “It’s over, Celia,” I say. “The game is over.”

  She groans. “Not this bullshit again.”

  “No, not this bullshit. That’s not what I’m saying.” I turn my head to face her profile, letting her know the fullness of my sincerity. “I’m telling you that I’ve put my time in. Like you wanted. And now it’s over. There isn’t anything else that you need to complete your experiment.”

  Her brow rises above the rim of her glasses. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” I hate myself for what I’m about to say—for sharing something so intimate and private between me and Alayna—but I’m familiar with self-loathing. I force the words. “I mean that she’s already emotionally invested in me. I don’t need to spend any more time with her. I can end the business arrangement I have with Alayna, and you’ll be able to study her reaction like you wanted to.”

  Celia’s still skeptical. “Game over means all of it, Hudson. That means the personal too.”

  “I know.” Just like that, I let go of every possibility of anything more with Alayna. I’m walking away.

  My chest constricts, and it’s hard to breathe. It feels like I’ve been caught under a giant boulder. My limbs are numb, I can’t move, and the pain…it’s sharp and persistent. Crushing.

  With the severity of my agony, it’s not easy to explain why I’m doing this, even to myself, but I try to reason through it anyway. Alayna says she’s in love with me, and while I’m wary that anyone could possibly feel any affection for me, I feel her love. It pulses through my veins as if she injected it into my body with her kiss, with her nails on my back, with her pussy when our fluids mingled in the heat of our lovemaking.

  But the reality is that Alayna doesn’t really know me. Not all of me. And if she ever found out, not only would that love vanish, but she’d be hurt. I’m almost certain that would break her more than my abandonment now.

  It’s a gamble, I suppose, but it’s the best chance she has. Her credit cards and student loans have already been paid for, and the confirmations will be sent tomorrow. It’s the perfect time to end the charade, and then I won’t see her again. I’ll let our private affair seemingly fade away. Perhaps I can spend some time working at our overseas headquarters. It will be a good excuse to be gone from her life. Then I’ll hope—pray, even, and I’m not a praying man—that she doesn’t fall into past behaviors.

  And if she does, I’ll offer whatever support I can anonymously. Celia will win her experiment, but I won’t let Alayna be damaged permanently. She’ll recover. I’ll merely be a bump in her road.

  Celia stares at me. She’s trying to read me, trying to identify my angle. Finally, she asks, “Are you su—”

  I cut her off. “Do you doubt my experience in these matters?” It’s hard enough as it is to stick to this plan. I don’t have the conviction to convince Celia too.

  Fortunately, she backs down. “No. I don’t doubt you. It’s just so soon. I had expected we’d need more time.”

  She’s almost there. Just one more push from me ought to do it.

  So I push. “It is soon. Alayna gives her heart easily, it seems.” I have to look out the passenger window at this. It’s a lie, and I know it. Alayna doesn’t give her heart easily—she gives it fully. She doesn’t fall for just anyone. When she does, it’s her everything. That’s the reason behind her obsessive tendencies. I’ve learned that about her.

  I won’t let Celia know that though. I’ve betrayed Alayna enough.

  “And you?” Celia’s question hits the back of my head, but I feel its blunt force.

  And me…

  I’ve given my heart as well, though Alayna can’t possibly know. She owns it, fully and completely. Each beat that it spends away from her is the cadence of a death march. If there was anything to my life before her, its substance has faded in my memory. This—leaving her—this is a darkness that I’ve never witnessed.

  But why did Celia even ask? She’s always been fully aware that I lacked heart. Does she sense something’s changed? Does she know I’m no longer the man she used to play with?

  Or is it simply another one of her tricks?

  I pull out my phone and busy myself with flipping through my screens as I answer her. “I’m not sure what you’re implying. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for this charade anymore. I have a business I’m trying to run and a subsidiary company that I’m on the verge of losing. If you don’t mind, I need to focus my attention on that right now and not this silly game.”

  Knowing Celia will assume I’m doing something for work, I type out a text message to Alayna. It’s painfully brief—Plexis crisis. I’ll call as soon as I can.

  I won’t call. I’ll see her again to end things more formally, but it won’t be by phone.

  We ride in silence for several minutes before Celia says quietly, “Maybe I was wrong about you.”

  Her cryptic statement pulls my attention from my morose thoughts. I spend a few seconds trying to track the source of her remark and come up empty-handed. “What does that mean?”

  She shrugs. “You’re too grown-up to play, I guess.”

  I don’t believe that’s what she meant, but I don’t push her. I’d rather capitalize on the opening she’s just given me. “Too grown-up because I have a life and responsibilities? Yes, I am too grown-up. These experiments don’t have a place in my life any longer.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she says as we turn into the airport. “We’ll see.”

  Her words are ominous, but I don’t let them in. I’m cold. I’m steel. I’ve put on my mask now, the one I’ve worn for as long as I can remember. I used to wear it to hide that I don’t feel. Now I wear it to hide that I do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I throw all my energy into saving Plexis, and it isn’t enough. The company is sold out from under me. I’m not surprised. My proposals were spot on, but my presentation was mediocre. I’m off my game, my attention divided. I wonder how long I’ll be split like this—half of me in the current moment, half of me always with her. While all of this is unfamiliar to me, I’ve studied enough breakups to see that there is recovery for most individuals.

  I’m certain that I am not most individuals.

  I linger in Cincinnati for most of Tuesday, not wanting to go home to Manhattan. Eventually, I have no more reason to stall, and I head home. I land in the evening. I’m disheveled and exhausted, but instead of heading home, I ask my driver to take me to The Sky Launch. There’s no use delaying seeing Alayna. I need to get our dissolution over with so I can move on.

  I note the time when I arrive. It’s a little early for Alayna to be at work, but that’s better. If I’m already here when she arrives—going over business with David, perhaps—then my visit will appear casual. It will seem like my meeting with her is an afterthought. It should help her see that I believe anything that exists between us is mundane. Ordinary.

  I’m not sure she’ll buy it. Honestly, I’m not sure I want her to.

  But she has to. Because this is how things are now.
This is how things have to be.

  The club is dark as I enter. I head for the office—if David is here, that’s where he’ll be. The door is open when I approach, but as I enter the frame, I’m not prepared for the sight that meets me. David is here, but in his arms—Alayna.

  They’re embracing, and it’s far too intimate to be a hug between friends. I can’t see her face, but the expression on his is one I can relate to. It’s adoration. It’s affection. It’s maybe even love.

  Emotion shoots through my body at the sight. Jealousy, astonishment, scorn—the emotions mix into a toxic cocktail of rage. I’ve never been this worked up, this livid. My blood is boiling, my skin itching, and my gut feels like it’s been punched.

  But I wear my mask. So David sees none of it when he sees me. Instead he sees cold and steel, which can be very intimidating, I’ve found.

  Instantly, he lets Alayna go and backs away. “Hey, Pierce.”

  Alayna spins, and her eyes meet mine. Hers are sparked with worry, with fear, and the blood drains from her face. Her concern softens the slightest bit. Not enough, though. I’m still consumed with my fury.

  The bitch of the whole thing is that I have no right to feel this way. To feel any of the way I do regarding her. I’ve made my decision. I’ve chosen to walk away and to bury any emotion she may have stirred in me. She’s allowed to embrace any man she wants. She can kiss and fuck anyone she pleases. Because she isn’t mine.

  My stomach clenches. All I see is red.

  I’m vaguely aware of David speaking and then the sound of the door closing as he leaves. At least he was smart enough to know he should go without being asked. I realize I’m angry with him as well—he’s an employee and he’s making moves on his boss’s girlfriend. My feelings toward him are such a small part of my turmoil though, and I’m glad for his departure. Now I focus on directing the torment brewing inside. If I have to feel this pain, at least I can use it to push her away.

  “Hudson.” She says my name, and it sounds like a broken chord—each syllable hanging in the air with distinct weight. She steps toward me. “I read about Plexis. I’m so sor—”

  Like I give a fuck about Plexis at the moment.

  I cut her off. “What’s going on with you and him?” It’s not my place to ask, but though my voice is controlled and even, I have no authority over my actions. I need her to answer. I need her to alleviate this fear that she feels for anyone the way she feels for me.

  It’s insane. It’s irrational. And I can’t stop needing it.

  “Nothing.” She sighs. “David was, um…it was a friendly hug, that’s all.”

  Her answer only makes the sting worse. “The expression on his face was much more than friendly.” I step toward her, demanding with my body before I’ve even voiced the question I have to have an answer to. “Have you fucked him?”

  “No!”

  I study her with narrowed eyes. There’s more she isn’t saying—I can read her face, read her posture. There’s something between them. “But almost,” I guess.

  “No.” Her tone is adamant, but her eyes shift.

  This, her lie, tears me apart more than anything. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because you have some serious trust issues. What is your fucking deal, anyway?”

  There is a rational voice in my head screaming that this is not how I should behave. That her relationships are private and not my concern. That this is not my place. She. Is. Not. Mine.

  I want to listen to it. I want to calm the blistering storm that is traveling through my every nerve. But it’s impossible.

  So I give up, letting the tempest swallow me as I step toward her and growl. “I told you before. I don’t share.”

  Whatever plans I had for our paths are suddenly null and void. Because though I cannot have her, though I’m supposed to let her go, I’ve just claimed her.

  There’s a flash of acceptance in her eyes. It’s brilliant, and I cling to the light of it long after it’s lost to the challenge that follows. “But I have to share you with Celia?”

  “Goddammit, Alayna. How many times do I have to say it? There is nothing going on with me and Celia.” I convince myself it’s not a lie because she’s questioning a romantic involvement. In my bones, I’m sure that she senses the truth—that there is some sort of connection between Celia and me. Alayna can read me too well to miss this.

  Still, I refuse to shed any light on my secrets.

  So she uses the only weapon she can. “And there’s nothing going on with me and David.”

  “Really? That’s not how it looked when I walked in here.”

  “Just like that’s not how it looked when you left with Celia while I was still naked in your bed?”

  Anger surges through me like lightning. How can she not understand? I grab her by her upper arms and pull her into me. “Leaving you that morning was the hardest fucking thing I’ve done in a long time. Don’t treat it lightly.”

  Then, because she has to know how I feel and because this is the only way I know to tell her, I crush my mouth to hers. I bite and tear at her lips. I’m brutal and bruising. This, I tell her with my kiss, is how it felt to walk away.

  She pulls away. “Hudson, stop.”

  But I can’t. I have to get through to her. Or maybe I just need her body to calm the fury inside of me. I don’t know anything anymore except this fervent urgency to have her.

  “Stop.” She pushes at my chest.

  “No. I have to fuck you. Now.”

  “Why? Are you marking your territory?”

  Her question startles me. Is that what this is? Is this action merely an extension of my irrational jealousy? It’s not what I wanted this to be.

  My pause allows her to wrestle free of my grip. “You don’t own me, Hudson! Stop messing with me like I’m one of your other women. Not with me, remember?”

  It’s the truth I try not to face, slapped at me with such force I can’t deny it. “Don’t you think I know that? Every minute of every day, I remind myself that I can’t conquer you. That I can’t do that to you. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to.”

  The words rush out of me so quickly, I can’t digest them until they hang in the air around us. In them is clarity. I have wanted to conquer her. As much as I’ve refuted Celia’s plans and defended my actions as benevolent toward Alayna, there has always been a part of me that wanted to own her. To master her. To win her. Was this the real reason I agreed to the game? Because I can’t help myself from playing?

  The possibility pains Alayna as much as it does me. Tears spill down her cheeks. “So I am just like the others.”

  “No. You’re not.” I wanted to manipulate her—it’s a desire that will never go away. But it was faint with Alayna. It lingered in the background behind so many other more prominent desires. “I told you before,” I tell her. “I don’t want to hurt you more than I need to win you.”

  She’s sobbing as she says, “You’ve already done both.”

  Horror washes over me like an icy shower. “Fuck!” This was not what I wanted. It was everything I’d tried to prevent. And even though I knew—I knew—that I had hurt her, the reminder of it, paired with the reminder that she’s declared her love, overpowers me. The reality of her emotions bring all of mine to the surface. I’ve fucked everything up. There is no possibility of either of us walking away from this relationship like it was a bump in a road. There is no good decision to be made. I’ve made our story so that it can only end in pain.

  I step backward, away from her, as if I can distance myself from the hell I’ve put us in.

  But she follows, charging into my arms and kissing me with the same determination that I’d earlier thrust upon her.

  I can’t resist. And there’s no point, really. We’re both damned no matter what.

  “Alayna.” I take what she’s giving me, take it greedily. My hand kneads her breast as I lick into her mouth. My other arm pulls her closer. She says my name. She tells me she ne
eds me. I don’t need to hear the words. I feel it in her kiss, in her body as she yields to me.

  I’m quick to remove her panties and lay her on the couch. My gaze never leaves her as I undress. She’s gorgeous like this—all spread out for me, her cunt glistening with her arousal. And even beyond the erotic visual, there’s beauty in the significance of her capitulation. Even in her pain, she looks to me for comfort. Just as I look to her.

  I can’t delay our connection any longer. I lower myself on top of her and drive in. I’m relentless with my speed, with my force. I’m focused only on release, mine and hers, my thumb rubbing against her clit as I pound into her. Our sex is primal and raw. It’s a mirror of our circumstances—we shouldn’t want each other, but the pull that draws us together is stronger and baser than anything we can control or contradict. I have no words for this connection, and so I shower her with the only sound that makes any sense—her name, spilling from my lips, repeatedly, reverently. Then it’s the word that announces my release as I come inside her in a savage explosion. She echoes my climax with her own, crying out while she clenches around me.

  I collapse onto her, burying my head into her neck. My cock twitches inside her as it calms. She’s warm and safe, and as our breathing settles, I relax into her. This is the first time in my life that I can remember being completely at ease. Despite the lack of resolution in our predicament, I’m free in her arms.

  In the sanctuary of this moment, disclosure comes naturally. “I wanted to win you. But I didn’t want to hurt you.” I tighten my grasp around her. “That’s the last thing I wanted.”

 

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