by Lara Norman
She couldn't choose so she decided to watch some TV and try to distract herself from all of it for a while. She tried to immerse herself in something mindless, but it just didn't work. She could only think of Hudson and the look he’d given her when he said he tried getting ahold of her and she hadn't answered. He’d looked disappointed; hurt, even. She didn't want to hurt him, despite all the things he could have done differently. She wasn't perfect, either, that was for sure. She’d broken into his office after he'd told her to leave him alone. She’d pursued him when he’d made it clear he didn't want that. Sure, he’d enjoyed it in the long run and he’d decided he wanted to be with her after all, but that was only because she pushed.
With a deep sigh, Reagan muted the TV and picked up her phone. She stared at Hudson’s contact information as she tried to decide what to do. She didn't have a picture of him to go with the phone number, but she could see his face in her mind. He had a certain expression he adopted when he was focused that was serious and completely sexy. She frowned as it occurred to her that she had never asked how old he was. She pulled up the text conversation and typed in a simple question. She had to start somewhere.
Reagan stared at an inane commercial as she waited for his reply. With the sound off, it was harder not to want to look at her phone and will it to chime, but she focused on the ad for toilet paper instead. When his response came through a few minutes later, her forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows went up. His birthday was twelve days after hers, but he was eleven years older than her. Eleven. Biting her lip, she typed in a response.
She wasn't entirely surprised when her phone rang. Laughing, she answered it immediately.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Oh, God, his voice was warm and smooth in her ear.
“Just a bit surprised, I suppose. I didn't realize you’re almost thirty.”
“Well, you can call me sir all you want.”
She was getting turned on just by listening to him. “I might just do that.”
“So you’re not appalled that I’m so old? If I remember correctly, you said you didn't care about my age as long as I wasn't in my thirties.”
Reagan unfolded her legs and shifted on the couch. “I might have cared if you were anyone else, but it’s too late for me to mind, now.”
She heard his exhale and shivered. He seemed to have that effect on her. “I’ve been thinking about you. I’m glad you decided to text me.”
“I read all the messages you sent me. I didn't know there was so much animosity between you and your father.”
“Ah, well, he’s mostly concerned with himself and how Mother and I reflect on him.”
“That’s too bad. I don’t know what I would have done if I wasn’t close to my parents. They were killed in an accident when I was twelve, though.”
“Oh. Were you raised in foster care?” She heard the concern in his voice over the line and it softened her heart even more.
“No, my older brother took care of me. He was seventeen at the time, but he refused to let me go into the system.”
“Wow. I’m older than your brother.” He paused. “He’s going to hate me if he ever meets me.”
“Do you want to meet him?” Reagan tried to picture it, but she couldn't.
“Not any damn time soon. Can you imagine it? Hello, I’m the old man banging your sister in my office, even though she’s my student.” He snorted. “He’d kill me, and rightly so.”
“That’s entirely likely.” Out of instinct, Reagan glanced at the clock. She had enough time to talk freely without worrying about Grant.
“I wish you’d been there yesterday.”
She frowned, then whispered, “In your office?”
He groaned. “Yes, and also no. We have to stop meeting in my office, but I wanted to see you out of the classroom.”
“We both know what would have happened.” Reagan turned and stretched her legs out on the couch. “You would have fucked me on that desk again. I would have enjoyed it, of course, but I would have been disappointed when it was over and we went our separate ways. You have a tendency to make me feel like you don't really want me.”
“I promise, I want you. That’s the problem, Reagan. I want you so much that it hurts, but I’m not supposed to have you.”
“You always sound like you’re talking yourself out of a relationship with me.”
“That’s because I am.” She heard his frustrated sigh. “But I’m tired of that. I’m so tired of fighting it. I want more of this, more talking on the phone, more time together. Is that what you want?”
She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about it. Of course she wanted that, too, but it was wrong. She could get him fired, just because she had feelings for him that she couldn't identify. She had to be honest, though. “I do.”
“You do?”
Reagan grinned as she heard the incredulity in Hudson’s voice. “Yeah. We need to give it a try.”
“It’s going to be hard being away from you for so long.”
“We’ve not really been together that much so far,” she pointed out.
“No, but I got to see you three times a week in class.”
“I knew you were watching me.”
“I couldn't help it, but I tried not to stare and make the other students suspicious.”
“I never noticed so it must have worked.” She took a deep breath. “So we’re going to give it a try?”
“We are.”
Her stomach clenched at the thought. She didn't think she was ready, but she was going to go for it.
Chapter Eighteen
Reagan and Hudson got off the phone a little before four. Reagan knew Grant would be home soon so she showered and got dressed like the responsible adult she was pretending to be. After that, she went into the small kitchen she and Grant had fixed up to their liking. Everything looked the same as it always had, each item still in the exact place as it had been for six years. It would have been a good sign if something was out of place; it would have meant he’d had someone over. As she put together spaghetti for their dinner, she realized that regardless of how many months she’d been away at school, Grant hadn't dated anyone seriously. She made a mental note to ask him if he’d dated at all, but she had a feeling the answer was no. The one personality trait of her brother that she had a hard time understanding was that he never seemed interested in dating.
She heard the front door open and close as she pulled garlic bread from the oven.
“Hi, honey, I’m home!”
She laughed. “In the kitchen, dear!”
“Ah, just the place I like my little lady to be.”
She wrinkled her nose as he kissed her forehead. “That was funnier when we were younger.”
Grant laughed. “Let me get a quick shower and I’ll be right back.”
She set the table and finished everything off while he was gone. Did Grant need a traditional woman? Someone who wanted nothing more than to be in the kitchen all day? She didn't think so, but then she sure as hell didn't know his romantic preferences.
“Thanks for cooking, Ray.”
She looked up at him in his clean white t-shirt and jeans. He was barefoot, as usual, and she remembered Luna’s comments about his attractiveness. “Have you been out on any dates since I moved out?”
Grant’s eyebrows went up as he sat at the little round table. “Why are you asking me that?”
She huffed as she sat across from him. “I want you to be happy.” She fixed him a plate and handed it over. “I thought that was obvious.”
“Okay.” He waited until her mouth was full before he spoke again. “I had a few girlfriends while you were still here.”
She froze with a mouthful of spaghetti. Since she couldn't respond, she chewed and tried to swallow around her surprise.
Grant watched her in amusement. He didn't want her immediate reaction, because it was likely to be what the fuck. He wanted her to have to think about it and what it meant.
“So you’v
e had girlfriends.”
“Yes.”
“And they didn't work out, apparently. Why not?”
He got up to get a drink from the fridge while he thought about it. He turned to face her, propping his hip on the counter. “They were nice women, but I couldn't picture introducing them to you. I knew that if they weren't special enough to bring home to meet you, then I didn't want to spend my life with them.”
“I’d already assumed you weren’t a one-and-done kind of guy, but seriously, sometimes you can just be casual. Not every woman you go on a date with has to be your soul mate.”
He sat back at the table and took a long drink before he answered her. “I can’t believe my eighteen-year-old sister is giving me advice on my love life.”
“I’ll be nineteen in a month,” she reminded him. “But that’s beside the point.”
“I haven't met anybody since you’ve been gone. I went out with Brent and Josh a few times, tried to flirt and dance with a woman here and there. There weren't any sparks.”
Reagan took a bite to keep from blurting out that there should most definitely be sparks. She let him eat, but she worried over how to tell him that she was sleeping with her professor. She knew for a fact that she was going to wait until she was no longer taking Hudson’s class before she told Grant about their relationship. For all she knew, once there was no more rule against them being together Hudson wouldn't want her so badly anymore. She knew a large portion of their attraction for each other came from the fact that it was forbidden.
“Ray?”
She looked up. “Yeah?”
“I asked if you were seeing anybody.”
She took in the narrowed eyes and the slight scowl. “No. There’s a guy I think is hot, but he’s older than me.”
“Not that I want to push you into anything, but don’t let things like that stop you.”
She set her fork down. “Wait, really?”
“Well, yeah.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. He was so bad at the serious talks with his sister. “If that guy would make you happy, who cares if he’s a few years older than you?”
She snorted. Yeah, a few years. “That’s good advice, Grant. Thanks.”
“Now can we please talk about anything other than relationship stuff?”
“Oh, yes, please.”
Reagan spent time playing cards with her brother before he had to go to bed. He was up so early in the mornings that he was wiped out by nine-thirty. The mechanic shop he worked for opened at seven every day of the week, and Grant got off at four. He ate dinner early and went to bed early, and it occurred to her that maybe his hours had something to do with not finding a woman.
Reagan made sure the apartment was in order before she went to her room for the night. She hated cleaning, which one look at her room could attest, but she wouldn't make it harder on Grant to have her home. She didn't pick up the clothes or towels off the floor of her room, though. He wouldn't go in her room, and she’d clean it before she left again.
With a pulse of anticipation in her belly she picked up her phone and called Hudson.
“Hey, beautiful.”
She smiled as she sat on her bed. “Hello.”
“What are you doing right now?”
She thought about it for a second. “Wanting you.”
His breath came more loudly in her ear. “Shit. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”
“Mmm. As badly as I want you . . . right here between my legs.” She thought he stopped breathing altogether as she said the words.
“Now what are you doing?” he asked, his voice a lower octave than normal.
“Touching myself.” She moved her hand, cradling the phone to her shoulder as she did exactly what she said. One hand smoothed over her breast while the other stroked over her sleep pants.
“God damn, Reagan.” There was a moan, and she just knew he was palming his erection.
“Are you hard for me?” She kept her voice down. Despite being positive that Grant was asleep, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“So hard.”
“So hot, babe.” Reagan shifted and slipped her hand under her flannel pants. She was wet, wishing it was Hudson’s fingers, and wondering if she could actually get off with him over the phone.
“Are you touching that pussy, Reagan? I remember how soaked you get for me.” His panting breaths were breaking up his words and sending her closer to the edge.
“Yes,” she drew out the word as she flicked at her clit. “I wish I could see that massive cock. Watch it disappear inside me.”
He groaned long and loud. “Fuck.”
“Are you close, Hudson?” She was met with the sounds of his breathing and figured that was a yes. “It’s not the same without you here. My fingers aren’t good enough anymore. I need you to say something to me.”
“I want . . .” He gulped in a breath and tried again. “I want to eat that pussy, Reagan. I want to bury my face it, lick you until you scream. I want to fuck you with my tongue and then fill you with my cock.”
“Yes.” She whimpered as she pictured what he described. “Yes.” She was close, moving her finger faster and pinching her nipple harder.
“So close.”
“Come for me, Hudson. God.”
“I—”
He didn't finish his sentence, but Reagan was positive he had finished something. “Oh. I want what you said.”
She couldn't think anymore, couldn't speak. She squeezed her hand in between her thighs as the orgasm hit her. It washed over her, warm and satisfying, but nowhere near as good as what she felt when she was with Hudson.
“Sweetheart, don't go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
She focused on evening out her breathing as Hudson went to clean up. It seemed that all of her firsts were going to be with him. That was okay with her, especially since he was so fucking good at everything.
“I’m back. That was so damn good, Reagan.”
“I guess you’ve learned a thing or two in thirty years.”
He was silent for a second and she worried he didn't know she was kidding. “My age seems to have its advantages.”
She exhaled, and only then did she realize she'd been holding her breath. “It works for me.”
“It worked for me, too. It took off the edge, but goddamn I need to be inside you so fucking much.”
“Do you ever think . . .” She sucked in a breath and then just said what was on her mind. “Do you ever think we’re only attracted to each other because it’s against the rules?”
“No.”
“Well, that was fast.”
“Because I don't have to think about it. It wasn't against any rules when we were in that crappy hotel, Reagan. It was hot. It was amazing. I spent the next nine days wishing I’d gotten your number.”
“You did?” That idea made her happy. She’d thought of him nonstop, too.
“Yes. I didn't think I’d ever find anyone that made me feel the way you did. I figured I was screwed for pretty much the rest of my life.”
“What was it about me?” She lay down, blinking in the soft light from the lamp on her bedside table. Had she really been that good? “I didn't know what the hell I was doing.”
“You were that good.”
She sat up with a gasp. “Shit. I haven't told you that I was a-a virgin.”
“A virgin.”
She’d fucked it up. He was going to laugh at her, hang up the phone, and never speak to her again. “Yeah.” She flopped back down and waited for the sound that indicated he’d hung up.
“You should have told me! What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I wasn't thinking anything except gee, I hope this hot guy agrees to fuck me so I’m no longer a virgin!”
“There's no way it didn't hurt.” Reagan heard something break. “I hurt you! I would have been gentle. Jesus, I would have said no.”
“And I didn't want you to say no. It was fine. It was great right up until yo
u actually got it in there, and then it sucked, yeah. But the second time was pretty fucking good. I mean, nobody had ever done those things to me, so I can’t compare, but you are so good at everything. By the time we did it again it was absolutely perfect.”
“You let me do anything I wanted, and you were a virgin.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Well, yeah. I didn't want to go to college a damn lily-white virgin. I wanted to do something brave and daring for once.”
He growled in her ear. “And dangerous. You picked up a stranger on the side of the road. I could have been a sociopath.”
“The jury’s still out.”
“You’ve got such a mouth on you,” he said in his dangerously low voice. “You need something in it to keep you occupied.”
Wow. “If it were possible, I absolutely would right now. The way you pushed your cock down my throat was so hot.”
“You’re going to get me hard again, and I don’t want that.” He paused. “You should get some sleep.”
“Should I, sir?” She smiled and thought of the way he was probably fisting his hair.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“What a way to go.”
He grinned. He couldn't help it. “Any other secrets you’ve been keeping?”
“Let’s see. I’m almost nineteen, I was a virgin when we met, I’ve never had a steady boyfriend, the furthest I’d gone before you was second base, I like to touch myself a lot, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever met—”
“Okay, okay.” He laughed. “I wasn't looking for that huge rundown, but I appreciate it.”
“Happy to oblige.”
“You’re a damn enigma, that’s what you are. If I’d never seen you and you'd never told me your age, I would assume you’re as old as me or more. Most of the time you’re mature and smart and funny.”