by Abby Knox
She emits a small whimper of need and tries to roll over, but I press her shoulder down and whisper in her ear. “Let me feel you like this, skin to skin, just for a minute. I won’t fuck you—anywhere—unless you tell me to; I just want to explore.”
She nods. “I trust you, Hudson. Oh fuck,” she growls, biting her lip. Her back arches, her gorgeous ass rising off the bed.
“My beautiful girl,” I rumble, sliding my length through her wet folds. She starts to back up into me, letting me savor the sensations, the friction we make together. The slow slide covers me in her slippery juice, and soon the tip reaches her clit.
Frenchie’s voice trembles. “I didn’t think I could go again already, but holy balls, Hudson.”
“These balls right here?” I move quickly, slapping my nuts against her cheek.
My girl laughs so hard and shakes the bed, and then puts everything to a halt. “That’s it, get off me for a minute. I need to punish you for that,” she says.
Of course, whatever punishment Frenchie has in mind, I’m down for it, a hundred percent.
I lean back on my knees and wait.
She flips over and rises up on her knees to face me. I can’t help but suck in a breath at the sight of her. The boat rocks slightly in the wake of passing ships, and she reaches out to steady herself.
Full of concern, I ask if she’s feeling seasick. She shakes her head and smiles. “No, for some reason, I kind of forgot about it. I think being in a moored boat and knowing we’re not going anywhere has helped a bit.”
Never taking for granted what she’s doing to be with me tonight—risking feeling seasick—I cup her sweet face and kiss her deeply. “Now let’s get onto this punishment you speak of.”
She smiles wickedly, and I feel so lucky knowing that there’s a whole new kind of mischief I can get up to with my best friend. This might be my favorite mischief of all time.
First, she runs her palms up her sides, over her breasts, keeping her eyes locked on mine.
“Is this punishment? Because that’s pretty hot.”
“Hudson, I have to tell you something,” she says, rubbing her hands all over her breasts, up and down slowly, two or three more times until her nipples are so hard that I’m salivating.
“I had a dream about you this morning,” she says. She cups her breasts with both of her hands and squeezes, pulling a moan from her mouth.
“Tell me about your dream,” I say through gritted teeth. I’m beginning to understand how this is punishment. She’s trying to torture me. It’s working.
Keeping up her self-massage, she tells me the contents of her dream. “I thought it meant nothing, that I was just lonely for it, for somebody. But…”
She slips a hand down below her navel while keeping the other hand on her breast. When she reaches her wet folds and slips her fingers in while I watch, Frenchie’s eyes roll back in her head, and she bites her lip.
“Frenchie. You’re killing me, but I need to know how the dream ended.”
She opens her eyes and levels me with her gaze. “I came so hard, Hudson. You fucked me through the wall, like literally. And then, for some reason, you caused a tornado siren to go off. And I came so hard I had to change my sheets when I woke up.”
My jaw clicks. “You made yourself squirt? Fuck, Frenchie.”
She shakes her head. “No, Hudson. You made me do that. In my dream, you made me juice everywhere. And when I woke up, I was so sad you weren’t there.”
The next thing I know, I’m grabbing for her. I can’t take any more of this. “You should have come to me,” I rumble into her ear. “You want to know what I was doing this morning? Awful things. I was hating myself because I was lying in bed thinking about you. I thought these images and ideas were forbidden because you’re my best friend. I can’t even repeat what we were doing in my dream. Turns out we were in sync, my love.”
I look down and see her fingers swirling, coated in her juice. Wide-eyed, I watch as she pops a wet finger into her mouth.
My animalistic growl turns to a snarl as I grab her wrist and demand that she share this with me.
I wrap my lips around her fingers and moan at the taste of her on them. My teeth nip as I savor her.
“Frenchie,” I say when I pop her fingers out of my mouth. “I can’t hold back anymore. I need to be inside you.”
She nods and looks down where my hand is wrapped around it.
“I want to be bad with you, Frenchie. I want to feel all of you. I want to be bare inside you. I know it’s a risk, but I just…just want to be that much closer to you.”
Wait a minute.
What was I thinking, blurting that out?
That is what I want, but I’m moving too fast.
Her eyes widen at me, and I know I’ve gone too far. I’m asking too much.
Chapter 7
Adalee
What he’s asking of me is out of line.
I know this in my head.
On the other hand, my body is out of line, too, because that is precisely what I want to do right now: jump the bones of my best friend and let him raw dog me. That’s what I want too.
Do I really want to risk making a baby with him?
We stare at each other for a few brief moments. I appreciate the way he waits for me to answer. Not pushing.
Yes, not only do I want to risk it, I would have ten of his babies right now. I love him so much I can’t picture my life without him.
But we’re not ready. I live in a tiny RV. He lives in a little boat. My mother isn’t ready to be a grandmother, and my dad—god, I don’t even want to think about what my dad is doing right now.
“I…I have to go.”
With that, I bolt into the living area and shove my clothes back on my body.
“Wait!” Hudson cries.
But I don’t wait. I can’t wait. I have to get off this barge before I do something incredibly dumb just because, at the moment, I would love nothing more than some bare-ass peen. And I do want that. God. It sounds amazing. But no, I have to go. Step away and think about what’s in my virtual shopping cart before I place that order.
I shove on my shoes and stumble out onto the deck, then shriek at what I see.
Nothing. Some blinking lights off in the darkness. I swivel around in circles, but it’s more of the same. The waves lapping the boat, rocking the vessel gently in the night breeze.
I shriek again. “Hudson!”
“Frenchie, are you okay?!” He bounds up to the deck, half-dressed. “Baby, what’s wrong—“
He sees all of the nothingness, and his hands grasp the sides of his head in shock. “Oh fuck. We’re at sea!”
I wave my hands in the air helplessly. “You think??”
“Where are we?”
I goggle at him. “How the fuck should I know?”
Once Hudson is over the shock, he doubles over. “Babe.”
“What?” I ask, my hand on my hips.
He’s laughing, but I don’t find anything about this funny.
“We rocked the boat so hard we floated out to sea!”
I shout, “Maybe someone forgot to tether the boat to the dock. Did you forget that, Hudson?”
He stops laughing and scratches his head. “I don’t think I forgot to do that today. Hell, I fasten so much rope on any given day, it’s automatic. It makes no sense.”
Anxiety rolls around in my stomach. “I’m going to be sick.”
Hudson approaches me, rubbing my arms. “No, you’re not going to be sick. Look at me.”
“I swear to god if you tell me it’s all in my head,” I start.
Hudson clarifies, “You know I would never say that, Frenchie. Listen. You’re not going to drown. I have an ice bucket right here. Why don’t you go sit down below deck, and I’ll steer us back to the dock?”
“I don’t see how that’s going to help,” I say, but I do as he says anyway. He is, after all, the only person who can get this vessel back to dry land.
&nbs
p; If he can even find it.
Okay, Adalee, I tell myself. Calm down. You’re being unfair. Hudson is a professional, and you trust him. Besides, there’s no way he did this on purpose. Accidents happen.
And as for the other thing, maybe he was just caught up in the moment. You know how intense he gets when he loves something. He’s all in. He’s one hundred percent, or he’s not into it at all. And besides, Hudson has always talked about wanting kids. He loves it when kids and families charter fishing boats together, I’ve seen the way he talks about helping kids catch their first fish. The man was built to be a dad. The man was built to be a husband.
Adalee French, the man was built to be your husband. How long are you going to deny the fact that you do want kids, too?
I love my cats, and that’s about all I can handle.
I think things over as he works on radioing other boats to help guide him back to shore.
Still, he should respect your need to think about this. It’s a huge ask. And my heart wants it too much.
Chapter 8
Hudson
Fortunately, I’m a good enough navigator, and I know how to use the radio. I manage to get us safely back to shore in a couple of hours without any harm done to the boat.
However, my relationship with Frenchie might be about to get dashed upon the rocks. First, I asked her for unprotected sex, and now she thinks I deliberately tried to keep her out here all night.
By the time I have us secured to the dock—checking and double-checking the anchors and ropes—Frenchie has all our shit packed up and the below-deck area looking spick and span.
“You don’t have to clean up. Are you…are you leaving?”
She cups my cheek, kisses me on the jaw, close to my ear, which gives me a whiff of her bed-mussed hair. If my heart wasn’t breaking because it feels like she’s leaving, I would be intoxicated by her touch, her kiss, the smell of her hair, all over again.
“French…”
“I have to go.”
“Let me drive you. It’s dark.”
“I want to run. I need to run and think.”
My anger rises in my throat. It’s too dangerous for her to be running along in the middle of the night. Or morning. I’m not sure about the time. It’s incredible how time means nothing when I’m with this woman. I’m kicking myself for somehow not double-checking the knots. If I had, we never would have floated out to sea, and we would have been able to talk things out. I would have been able to tell her the entire truth.
That I’ve been pining for her, for years. That I suddenly have the overwhelming need to lock this thing down. I want her. I’ve always wanted her, and now I’m ready.
Sure, I could have gone about it differently instead of springing it on her in that particular way. I was just so overwhelmed, so desperate for her. To be close to her in every conceivable way.
“Like hell. I’ll chase you,” I say.
She laughs. “Fine. Chase me. You’re a terrible runner, though.”
She hops off the boat and runs down the dock toward the parking lot at full speed.
“Frenchie!”
“I have to go feed the cats! They’ve probably torn my house apart by now!”
Space, Hudson. Give her space. I hang my head and look down at my feet. That’s when I notice something suspicious. A bunch of jaggedly cut rope lies in a mess on the dock, right where I know I had fastened Captain Jack’s boat, the S.S. Melinda, earlier today. Or yesterday. I’m not even sure what time it is.
The feeling of vindication rapidly dissipates as I watch Frenchie run away across the marina parking lot and hoof it down to the sand. I know what she’s doing. She’s going to run all the way back to her car at the Ferris wheel.
I should not follow her. I should let her cool off and then tell her what happened, if she asks.
I inspect the cut ropes for clues, but I don’t see anything to indicate who might have done this. I don’t have any enemies. And neither does Adalee. The only people who knew we would be on this boat tonight were Captain Jack and Adalee’s mom. But that would mean…
Wait a minute.
The cogs turn in my brain. “But that makes no sense,” I mutter, scraping my fingers across my scalp.
Then again, the only person who could be responsible is not exactly known for making sensible decisions.
Spotting Frenchie just as she hits the sand, I take off after her. I’ll make sure she gets home safe, first and foremost.
Chapter 9
Adalee
I run all the way to my car from the marina by way of the beach, knowing full well Hudson is trying his best to keep his distance while also keeping an eye on me.
I could be nice and let him catch up, but I’m feeling like putting some distance between us, just for a few hours.
By the time I reach my car, I’m hyperventilating and soaked in sweat. I might not be thinking straight, but all I know is I have to get home.
I text my mom and apologize for not letting her off the hook earlier and that I would understand if she needed to leave. I should have told her that things on the boat got out of hand.
Sex is one topic that my mom and I have always been able to discuss without embarrassment. She would have understood.
Starting up my car and looking around, there’s no sign of Hudson anywhere. “Huh. Maybe he did decide to give you a minute to think about things after all. Points for that, big man.”
Even as I say this, I remember the full weight of him on top of me, and miss it already. A part of me scolds me for playing games, but that’s not what this is. I’m not playing games. I told him I love him and that was the truth. It was just too much too fast, and I needed to sort out what I want.
When I arrive home, I fully expect the cats to have knocked over their food container or to have scratched up the flimsy sofa cushions that double as my kitchen booth cushions. But I find them dozing away contentedly in their beds.
Nothing looks amiss. In fact, the RV looks clean. A little too clean.
I check my phone but have not received a reply from my mom yet.
That’s strange. It is pretty early in the morning at this point.
“Guys?”
My cats wander over to me, give me licks and purrs while I hug them good morning, and dispense their food. While I’m refilling their water, I get a text from my mom.
“Have a nice time, honey?”
I text her back, a casual, “Yep. What time did you leave? Thanks for cleaning up, by the way. You didn’t have to.”
She doesn’t respond to my thank you, but shoots off a “I don’t know, about midnight or later. No big deal. Gotta run!”
I shake my head and reply with instructions for tonight. However, it seems like she’s decided to surprise me by having everything well in hand. Maybe she is getting better. Maybe I should give her more credit.
I shower and fall into bed, my mind reeling at the events of the last several hours. But not for long. Hudson does not mess around in the sack, and I am more tired than I realize. Sleep overtakes me quickly, and I fall asleep dreaming about what our babies might look like.
I roll out of bed several hours later, still feeling Hudson everywhere. The man knows how to leave a mark. The twinge between my legs doesn’t stop my libido from wanting another round of Hudson in the sheets. Objectively speaking, the man knows what he’s doing. I’m no rookie, either, but damn. What’s he gonna do next? What could he possibly have left in his repertoire to top last night?
I’m so lost in thought I forget to bring Hudson lunch, and I don’t remember until he shows up at the Ferris wheel later that night.
I’m checking in on my mom again, feeling like it’s weird that we continue to pass each other like ships in the night.
I feel like falling apart when I see Hudson.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I forgot to feed you!”
He smiles and shrugs. “I ate leftover M&M salad.”
We both laugh.
“Yeah.”
Here it comes. He’s going to tell me it was a mistake. We shouldn’t have fallen so hard so fast into the physical relationship without talking it out first. Before talking about what each of us wants out of this. To find out if what we want is mutual.
My employee, Amethyst, shows up to take over the wheel, allowing Hudson and me to walk and talk things through.
“You go first,” I say as we sidestep a group of teenagers stopping in the middle of pedestrian traffic to look at something funny on someone’s phone.
Hudson grabs my hand, giving me butterflies in my stomach. I love it. I can’t remember the last time someone gave me butterflies. It’s the loveliest feeling, and I wish for it to last forever.
“First of all, I’m sorry I sprung that on you. But I’m not going to sugarcoat it. What I have to say is important, and I’ve given it a lot of thought.” He pauses in front of Madame Lovehart’s Fortunes, where a happy, giggling couple exits the tent, chattering over their psychic reading.
“Frenchie, I love you. I want to marry you, and I want to start having babies with you as soon as possible. And if that scares you, I’m sorry. But that’s where I’m at. I should have tried having this conversation first, but I’m not good at this sort of thing. I’m not good at opening up.”
I pull him to sit down with me on a park bench. “I know,” I say, studying his face in the lights from the Ferris wheel. “I don’t think I’ve heard you say that many words about what you want, all at one time, like, ever.”
“Does that freak you out?”
I bite my lip. “Here’s the thing. I want those things, too. But I have questions. Why would you bring this up? Why would you let all this happen just days before deciding to take a job that would force you to leave me for the entire summer?”
He nods slowly. “Frenchie, I’m going to be so lost without you. I knew it as soon as Captain Jack made me the offer.”
Tears well up in my eyes. Now I’m sad and confused.