Remind Me

by Ann Marie Walker

His answering groan was a sound of sweet misery.

  Bending down, she teased him with soft laps of her tongue before parting her lips and taking him inside. Hudson watched her through hooded eyes as she slowly drew him back out, blowing a breath of warm air across his moistened flesh. He flexed his hips and she smiled. Hmm, now who wants more? Only too happy to oblige, she swirled her tongue across the tip, then ran it up and down his length as she moved him in and out of her mouth.

  His fingers tangled in her hair and his body arched, pushing him deeper. “Yes,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

  The feel of him throbbing and pulsing in her mouth drove her wild. She loved that she could do this to him, make him lose himself in the moment, lose himself in her. Spurred on by his pleasure, she sucked harder, finding a perfect rhythm with her hands and mouth.

  His stomach muscles tensed. “Enough. I want to be inside you when I come.” The words came out in a rush. He curled toward her, pulling her up the length of his body and crushing his mouth to hers.

  With a groan he rolled Allie onto her back, kneeing her legs apart and settling between her thighs. Bearing his weight on his elbows, he threaded his fingers with hers and held them on either side of her head. He gazed down at her and gently brushed his lips across her mouth. The kiss deepened as he brought their bodies together, licking his way into her mouth as he pushed himself farther inside her.

  Once buried to the hilt, he stilled; the peace and tranquility of the room broken only by the sounds of their mingled breaths and the roaring fire.

  “You’re all I need,” he murmured. Slowly he began to move, pulling back and then flexing into her with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm.

  Allie moaned, loving the feel of him inside her, filling her, moving with her. She wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into his ass as she urged him on.

  “Slow,” he whispered, running his tongue along her bottom lip before lazily pulling it between his teeth. “I want to take this slow.”

  He continued his leisurely torment, drawing back to the tip before gliding into her again. Allie’s neck arched on a frustrated groan. His carefully timed thrusts were driving her wild. Heaven and hell all rolled into one.

  She lifted her body into his and gasped as he slid deeper. “Please, Hudson . . .”

  Gradually he increased his rhythm, and slowly but surely she began to climb. His body rolled against hers with measured determination as he drove her higher and higher. Allie felt her insides begin to quicken as his thrusts became shorter, sharper.

  “That’s it, Allie,” he growled. “Come with me.”

  His words were her undoing and she came in a dizzying rush. Her orgasm went on and on, pulsing through her like waves as he stroked into her again and again.

  Hudson’s fingers squeezed hers and he came long and hard, his hips slicing forward one last time as he poured himself into her. With their hands still linked, he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her neck.

  When he released her hands, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight, emotions welling up inside her like the tears that stung her eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  After miles of roping turns, Hudson maneuvered the Range Rover through the light Sunday traffic on I-94, his grip tight on the wheel and the air in the SUV thick with silence. There was so much he wanted to say to Allie that his mind raced and his head pounded. But every time he opened his damn mouth, the threat to spill his guts was doing a jig on the end of his tongue. Being the other man wasn’t in his nature, and whenever he thought about that marquis fucker his territorial impulses were triggered.

  Headlights on the other side of the highway intermittently illuminated the car, highlighting her face and allowing him to steal a glimpse of her. His eyes glided over Allie’s delicate profile before looking back at the road in front of him. Her attempts at making conversation with his monosyllabic responses had been getting them nowhere, but as the towering skyline of the city appeared in the distance, she tried again.

  “Do you have a busy day tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Shit.” He reached for his phone and turned it on. The thing lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree with notifications of missed messages, e-mails, and texts. All that was missing were smoke signals.

  Hudson hit the voice mail and Nick’s panicked voice came over the speaker. “It’s me. Call me as soon as you get this.” There was a low, deep sigh, then his voice grew stronger. “Where the fuck are you?”

  The message ended and another began to play, then another and another. With each one Nick sounded progressively worse, spiraling into a full-blown panic attack. Hudson cursed under his breath when the next message began to play and that raspy, heavy with nicotine voice filled the car.

  “Hudson, my man, need to get your ass down here . . .”

  He snapped the cell out of the cradle and pressed it to his ear. He could feel Allie watching him as he curbed the SUV in front of his building and shifted into park.

  “I need to get Nick. Go on upstairs and make yourself at home.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No.” His tone was insistent. “Wait for me.” He lifted his hips, reached into the pocket of his jeans, and pulled a card out of his wallet. “For the elevator,” he said, handing it to her. “It will take you straight up.”

  Her hand gripped the door handle. “Is Nick okay?” The worry in her voice was palpable. He wanted to take her face between his hands and tell her everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t know that it would be.

  “Yeah . . . I think.” He pushed the speed dial on his phone and held it up to his ear as Allie reluctantly got out of the car. With a screech, he merged with the oncoming traffic. In his rearview mirror he could still see Allie standing at the curb, watching him.

  When the call was answered he didn’t wait for hello. “How bad?” he barked into the phone, speeding through a yellow light just as it changed to red.

  ***

  The bar owner cocked his fingers like a gun and pointed in the direction of the back room as soon as Hudson walked through the door. His stomach turned as he made his way through the dingy establishment. The place never seemed to lose that stale beer stench and must have been breaking about a dozen health codes.

  Cranking the knob, Hudson walked into the back room, only for his stride to falter. He stumbled back a step and shoved his hand into his hair. The gruesome scene was straight out of his recurring nightmare. Blood, lots of it, and front and center a man was sprawled unconscious. Not wanting to touch the guy, Hudson nudged him with his foot. Nothing.

  He looked to Nick and found him pacing like a caged animal. There were a couple contusions already starting to swell on his face, and blood trailed from a cut below his eye, dripping off his chin.

  Hudson’s eyes dropped to the DOA with the cracked skull and the remnants of a broken chair beside him. Blood pooled under the guy’s head, his greasy hair marinating in the dense liquid. As it began to ooze toward Hudson’s shoes, images flashed in rapid succession. A gunshot. Blood-soaked jeans. His father shouting.

  Turning his back on the scene, Hudson drew a deep breath and put a lockdown on his memories. He shut the door, then pegged his little brother with a hard stare. “What the fuck happened, Nick?”

  “It was an accident, Hudson, I swear. The bastard was going to kill me.” Nick paced back and forth, back and forth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  Hudson’s eyes tracked Nick’s movements. “Who is he?”

  Nick stopped pacing and his shell-shocked eyes focused on Hudson. “He’s . . . ah, just a guy I know.”

  Hudson’s glare narrowed. “Bullshit. Who the fuck is he, Nick?”

  “My . . . yeah, my dealer.”

  “What happened?” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t want to get you involved.”

  “Too late.” He grabbed Nick by the collar and pushed him into a chair. “Start talking. Now.”

 
“I don’t know, man, it all went down so fast. I guess he hit his head.” Nick blew out a breath and wiped his palms on his thighs. “He wanted the money I owe him. I told him I didn’t have it and he went crazy, started coming after me with a fucking chair.”

  Hudson’s eyes flicked down to the broken chair, now suited for kindling.

  “He was beating the shit out of me, bro. I’m pretty sure he woulda killed me if I hadn’t pushed him.”

  “Fuck, Nick.” Hudson knew his brother was on the up and up. When shit got real, Nick’s instincts had kicked into gear, refusing to take a beatdown of the six-feet-under variety. But what a fucking mess. The press would have a field day with this one, and the DA would fry Nick just to prove relatives of the rich and famous weren’t above the law. Hell if he was going to lose his brother to another system, one he’d have no chance of getting him out of even with his means and a team of lawyers.

  The door creaked open and Hudson shot Nick a shut-the-fuck-up look.

  “You two about done with the family reunion?”

  Hudson heard the rasp of a lighter and turned to find the bar owner lighting up another one. “Anyone else know?”

  “No, in this part of town you mind your own fucking business. Most of the guys in here have records as long as my arm.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “They’re gonna scatter like roaches if the cops start poking around.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.” Hudson flipped open his wallet. “I’m sure in this neighborhood another dead junkie isn’t breaking news.”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t believe the shit we find in the trash out back.”

  Hudson thumbed through a stack of benji’s, counting them off while the bar owner watched like a salivating dog. “Consider this a down payment.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Allie was staring blankly at the television screen, mindlessly flipping through hundreds of channels, when she heard the distant ping of the elevator. Finally! It had been almost two hours since Hudson had left her on the sidewalk in front of his penthouse, and she was going out of her mind with worry.

  She scrambled off the couch and flew down the stairs, reaching the bottom just as the elevator doors slid open.

  Hudson stepped off first. His face was set in hard lines as he strode through the foyer without so much as a glance in her direction. Nick was tight on his heels with his head down and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

  Self-conscious, Allie tugged at the hem of her borrowed T-shirt. With her suitcase still in the car, it wasn’t like she’d had many options. But it had been ten years since she’d seen Nick, and although Hudson’s shirt was plenty long enough, she wouldn’t have changed for bed if she’d known he was coming over. Then again, this was hardly the typical reunion.

  She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, then cleared her throat and kept it simple. “Hi, Nick.”

  He stopped short at the sound of her voice. “Oh hey, Allie. I didn’t know you were here.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God . . .”

  Nick’s clothes were splattered with blood and his face had been horribly beaten. He stared at her like a deer in headlights before tucking his head back down and following his brother into the penthouse.

  Allie was right behind him.

  She found them in the kitchen. Hudson radiated a barely restrained fury, opening and closing cabinets with more force than necessary until he found a bottle of Blue Label. He poured himself a sizable shot while Nick stood quietly at the end of the breakfast bar, shifting from one foot to the other. Waiting for instructions, she presumed.

  “What happened?” she asked him.

  “Um . . .” Nick’s bloodshot eyes darted to his brother.

  Hudson paused with his glass halfway to his mouth. The look he shot Nick spoke volumes, not the least of which was “don’t you fucking dare.”

  Allie let out an exasperated breath. The wall was back up. There was no way she was letting the subject drop indefinitely, but at the moment Nick’s injuries were her main concern. “Let me see.” She brushed his hair back from his face, trying to inspect the deep cut below his eye. “Do you think you need stitches?”

  Nick winced and ducked out of her reach. “Nah, I’m fine. S’all good. Just need some soap and water.”

  “I think it needs more than that.” She turned back to Hudson. “Do you have a first-aid kit?”

  “He’s a big boy, Alessandra. He can take care of it.” The muscles in his jaw clenched as he glared at his younger brother. “Go to bed, Nick.”

  “Ah . . . yeah. It’s been a long one.” Nick licked at the dried blood in the corner of his mouth.

  “Well at least let me give you some ice.” Allie turned and reached for a clean dish towel, filling it with a handful of ice cubes. “Here, this will help with the swelling.”

  He gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, Allie. Good seeing you again.”

  “Yeah, you too.” She watched as Nick lumbered out of the room. He stumbled into the wall once but quickly righted himself before heading toward the stairs. Allie followed to make sure he made it down in one piece, then went to find Hudson.

  He was in the living room, sipping scotch while staring out the window at the black shadow of Lake Michigan. Obviously he was upset by whatever he’d found when he went to get Nick, but what she couldn’t understand was why he was acting so cold toward the younger brother she knew he loved. Not to mention the anger she felt directed at her. Hostility rolled off him in waves, and part of her couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with his mood on the car ride home. Their weekend together had been perfect; but then everything started to unravel the moment they left the lake, and the closer they got to the city limits, the more she’d felt him pulling away.

  When he’d drained his glass, he went to the kitchen to pour himself another. Allie waited for him to offer an explanation—or hell, say anything at all—but he merely turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

  She followed him into his office. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  He leaned against the corner of his desk and took a sip of the amber liquid. “How about you go first?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This.” He gestured between them. “This farce. After all these years I’m still your dirty little secret, aren’t I?”

  Allie stiffened. “Of course not.”

  “Sure as hell been acting like it. Your mother saw us at the symphony and your first reaction was to run.”

  “I couldn’t tell her the truth.”

  “Right, because I’ll always be the kid from the wrong part of town. Doesn’t matter how much money I have, I’ll never be good enough.”

  “That’s not true,” she said. Her voice was small. “I’m engaged, Hudson. You knew that from the beginning.”

  He contemplated her words with narrowed eyes, then tossed back the rest of his drink. “Fair point.” His movements were smooth and methodical as he set the empty glass behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. When he spoke, his voice was menacingly calm. “Tell me, Alessandra, did he ask you to go with him to Paris? Two weeks is a long time to be apart. How many times has he called while he—”

  Allie held up her hand. “Stop.” Enough was enough. She turned to leave but he caught her wrist.

  “Not until you stop lying to yourself and end this charade.”

  “It’s not that simple,” she shot back.

  Hudson let out a harsh laugh. “Why, because the fucking invitations have gone out? Is that some rule of high society? No turning back once the announcement has run on page six? The rules you’ve lived by, the ones you had no say in creating no longer apply, Alessandra. If you continue to allow people to lead you down a predetermined path, then you’re not the woman I think you are.”

  Tears pooled in Allie’s eyes. “I don’t know what you want from me.” She took an involuntary step backward as Hudson pushed away from the desk. He steppe
d closer until he stood before her, the bookshelf at her back. His proximity and the intensity of his gaze overwhelmed her, and she looked away, torn between the urge to run and the urge to wrap her arms around him and never let him go.

  He cupped her jaw and gently turned her head. His blue eyes burned with sincerity. “What I want is for you to ask yourself what makes you happy. Not your parents, but you.”

  A stray tear slid down her cheek and he caught it with his thumb.

  “You have it in you to get what you want,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. “You have all along.”

  Dipping his head, Hudson took her mouth in a tender kiss. His lips moved softly over hers, his tongue lightly tracing the seam of her lips until she opened for him. He entered slowly, reverently, teasing and tasting her with soft, shallow licks as her body melted into his.

  He sighed deeply and let his forehead rest against hers. “I promised myself I wouldn’t bring this up till next weekend, but I can’t do this anymore, Allie. I can’t keep pretending two weeks will be enough.” His impassioned voice was barely a whisper. “The thought of you leaving tears me apart, a knife twisting into my soul.”

  His confession burned through her like fire, igniting her body with a desperate need. She grabbed him, pulling him to her and kissing him with all the pent-up emotion of the past two weeks. Every feeling, every desire, every unspoken word poured into that one kiss.

  “I won’t share you,” he murmured against her lips. “I can’t. And it’s not just male pride.”

  Hudson leaned back to look at her, his eyes dark and smoldering. “The thought of another man touching you . . .” His hand smoothed over the curve of her waist. “Making love to you . . .” His fingers dug into her hip. “It’s unbearable.”

  Grasping the back of her thigh, he lifted her leg, draping it over his as he placed his foot on one of the lower shelves. With a flex of his hips he pressed her against the bookshelf. “It’s either me or him.”

  Her body moved of its own volition, pushing back against the erection straining the seam of his fly.