Remind Me

by Ann Marie Walker

  He watched her through hooded eyes. “If you can honestly tell me you want to walk away from this, I won’t stand in your way.” His fingers threaded with hers and he lifted her hand, pinning it above her head. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you decide.”

  Allie felt her engagement ring slip from her finger.

  “But tonight you’re mine.”

  Hudson moved fast and swift, undoing his fly and shifting her panties. In one lithe movement he thrust inside her, emphasizing his words with the force of his body. She moaned, relishing the feel of him, but then all too quickly he withdrew. The emptiness she felt brought an unwelcome ache.

  “More?” His voice was thick and husky.

  “Yes.”

  He groaned and drove to the hilt once more.

  “Harder,” she breathed, wanting all he had to give.

  Allie gasped as he surged into her, claiming both her body and her mouth. Over and over he took her, his tongue stroking hers with the same ferocious passion as his thrusts. Her senses were overloaded. The scent of his skin, the feel of his body, the taste of his mouth. She was surrounded by him, inside and out.

  His arm banded around her waist, pulling her down to meet his punishing drives, and she tilted her hips, trying to take more of him. She clung to his shoulders and felt the muscles in his back flex as he gripped the shelf above her head. With his foot leveraged on the lower shelf, he powered into her, practically climbing the bookcase as he tried to get deeper and deeper inside her.

  Her eyes fluttered closed, memorizing the feel of him moving hard and strong inside her—filling her, stretching her, possessing her—and a hot tear slid down her cheek. The intensity of their connection was almost more than she could bear.

  He moved faster, pushed higher, until finally it became too much. Her back arched against the shelves and her body exploded in a violent rush.

  “Again,” he growled, and with a roll of his hips drove her over the edge once more. Her head fell back on a desperate cry of his name as fierce tremors pulsed through her. Hudson was tireless, grinding into her with unrelenting thrusts until she came again and again, each orgasm rolling into the next as her core clenched and released.

  With a long, deep groan he drove hard one last time, burying his face in her neck as he found his release. His breath was harsh and hot against her skin. “Never enough, Allie. It will never be enough.”

  Her body shuddered on a silent sob and she collapsed against his chest. Totally exhausted. Totally sated.

  Totally his.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Shots rang out.

  Like a fist out of the darkness, the nightmare seized Hudson with a fury. He couldn’t move and his heart was hammering in his chest.

  Sucked into the vortex of terror, he was on his knees, unable to speak. Death encircled him as the metallic stench of blood coated the back of his throat. It was splattered on his shirt and dripping from his fingers in rivulets.

  Flashing lights descended on the convenience store and the image sharpened. They’d come back in for something. What had he foolishly wanted? Crippling grief haunted every cell of his body.

  Wake up, damn it . . . wake up. Hudson fisted the sheets under him in his rising panic.

  A weak hand captured his and held on. Everything was chaos. People ran around him shouting commands. His mother skidded to her knees, slipping through the viscous liquid that stained her legs, and wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her chest. She was so cold, yet the room was stifling hot and he was sweating.

  And as quick as a last breath, the hand clutching his let go. The sounds of his mother’s scream ricocheted off the walls so loudly he thought the fluorescent lights above them would shatter.

  He should be crying, shouldn’t he? With a scream lodged in his burning throat, Hudson squeezed his eyes shut, straining to force tears out for someone he should be crying for. Why wasn’t he crying? Why couldn’t he cry for the one person who meant so much to him?

  This was his fault . . .

  All his fault.

  “Hudson.” Gentle cool hands landed on his chest. “Hudson, wake up.”

  White-knuckling the sheets, Hudson thrashed his legs and his chest heaved with a panting breath.

  “Hudson. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”

  He bolted upright. “What? What is it?” His eyes darted around the room.

  “You were having a nightmare.”

  “Jesus.” Closing his eyes, Hudson scrubbed a hand down his face, the remains of his dream clinging to him like a physical blow.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. He could hear the concern in her voice.

  “Yeah.” Fuck no. “Yeah.” He looked at Allie kneeling back on her heels beside him and thought how convoluted and screwed up her life was because of him. She didn’t need someone like him fucking everything up the way he had with his own family, but the compulsion to be with her was like a madness.

  In a series of smooth and swift movements, Hudson rolled her beneath him. She gasped as he yanked her T-shirt over her head, baring her entire body to him before taking her mouth with primal desperation.

  “I want you.” He hooked his ankles with hers and spread her legs wide. With the nightmare still fresh in his mind, all he wanted was to be lost in the softness between her thighs, to feel her wrapped around him. For just one moment he wanted to be free of his past. To be free of his guilt.

  “Wait, Hudson. Wait,” she panted, and pushed against his chest. “We need to talk. You were screaming.”

  He pressed his lips to her throat, sucking gently. “I don’t need to talk. I need you. I need this.” She moaned, bowing into his hands as his cock stroked between the lips of her sex. Sealing his mouth over hers, his tongue dipped into her with deep, lush glides. He laced his fingers with hers and slipped her hand between them. “Feel me as I take you.”

  With a necessity fueling what was already an almost debilitating desire, he entered her on a solid stroke.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Allie tapped her foot on the lobby floor, glancing up at the descending numbers above the elevator doors, willing them to move faster. She was late, seriously late, and she was never late to work. Ever.

  “What is taking so long,” she mumbled.

  Wanting to check the time, she fished her phone out of her purse, only to realize she’d never turned it on. As soon as she did, it started to vibrate with missed calls and messages. The most recent was a text from Harper. Allie read it as she stepped into the elevator.

  Meeting NOW. Where R U?

  “Shit,” she cursed under her breath while shoving the phone in the pocket of her jeans. Jeans, at work! Another thing she never did, but desperate times and all that. She’d overslept—item three on the morning’s “never” list—and had barely had time to brush her teeth and throw her hair in a ponytail, let alone swing by her place for work clothes.

  The elevator doors slid open. Allie bypassed her office and bolted straight for the conference room. Mr. Ellis never broke stride as she slipped into the room, continuing as if nothing was amiss while she quietly took her seat at the table. Allie ignored Harper’s raised brow, dropping her purse on the floor and powering up her tablet. An incoming message filled a chat box in the corner of the screen before she’d even had time to pull up the agenda.

  When did we start Casual Mondays?

  Leave it to Harper to not let the jeans go unnoticed, let alone unmentioned. But either way, Allie did need more suitable clothes for the rest of the week. She made a mental note to swing by her apartment after work and grab a few things. Clothes, shoes, underwear. Come to think of it, she might need to run out at lunch and buy more underwear, given the rate Hudson tore through them. The thought of his fingers shredding through satin and lace made a warm blush spread over her cheeks.

  Within seconds another message appeared.

  OMG, you spent the weekend with HIM, didn’t you?

  Followed by another . . .


  Don’t bother denying it. I know the walk of shame when I see it.

  And then another . . .

  You can’t avoid me forever.

  No, but she could certainly try. Allie shot Harper an annoyed look, then turned her attention to the meeting’s agenda. She scanned the bullet points, desperately trying to decipher which item they were currently discussing.

  “Could you and Harper handle that, Alessandra?”

  Allie’s head snapped up at the sound of her boss’s voice. Handle what? Jeez, she was a mess. And it was only Monday. “Sure thing,” she said, wondering what in the hell she’d just agreed to. A message popped up from Harper, who had clearly read her mind. Or at least her panicked face.

  Textbook budget.

  Ah, okay. “Thank you,” Allie mouthed across the table. A yawn came out of nowhere and, embarrassed, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Harper’s eyes grew wide and she immediately began typing. Allie frowned. Great, what now?

  Holy shit, you finally did it!

  Harper rolled her eyes at Allie’s blank look. She tapped a few keys on her tablet and then stared pointedly at Allie’s left hand.

  You finally kicked Lord Lame-Ass to the curb.

  Allie’s eyes darted to her hand where she saw . . . nothing? She let out a small gasp. Julian’s ring was gone. She’d no sooner had the thought when she remembered Hudson slipping it off her finger and placing it on one of the bookshelves. Tonight you’re mine. Her toes curled at the thought of his unyielding power, his unwavering authority. He’d completely possessed her—mind, body, and soul.

  This calls for a celebration!

  Dancing? Drinks first, of course.

  We should totally hit . . .

  Harper’s messages came in rapid succession, rambling on about all the ways in which they were going to celebrate, but Allie had stopped reading them. She couldn’t take her eyes off her unadorned finger. She’d grown so used to the sight of Julian’s ring that it seemed strange to look down and see nothing but her bare hand. Strange and wonderful. It was as though an enormous weight had been lifted from her. Some tether to a life she neither designed nor enjoyed. It felt . . . perfect.

  In that moment Allie knew what she wanted. Deep down she’d known it all along. Julian might have been the right choice for Ingram Media, but he wasn’t the right choice for her. She knew her parents would be livid, but somehow she’d have to make them understand. The past two weeks with Hudson had changed her, awakened a side of her that had been waiting to be set free. Life before him was neat, orderly, and boring as hell. She’d never felt more alive than she did when she was with him. It was the same way she’d felt ten years ago, but the connection between them had grown stronger, more intense. Had she really thought she could give that up? Give him up? It broke her heart to walk away from him once. There was no way she was making that same mistake twice.

  The meeting dragged on, as did the rest of the afternoon. All day her mind drifted to thoughts of Hudson. She was dying to call him, if for no other reason than to hear his voice, but fought the urge. She knew if she gave in she’d end up spilling her guts over the phone, and she wanted to look into his eyes when she told him she was ending things with Julian; that she was choosing a life with him.

  When six o’clock finally rolled around, she sent him a quick text.

  Stopping by my place for clothes. Meet you at PH. Late dinner?

  There was no reply. Come to think of it, she hadn’t heard from Hudson all day. She’d been so busy trying to keep her mind off calling him that she hadn’t even realized he’d never tried to call her. Not once. At first she thought it was odd, but then she reminded herself he was probably busy handling all the calls he’d ignored over the weekend. Or maybe he was with Nick.

  Sweet little Nicky. Her heart sank at the thought of all that had happened to him as a young boy. And now he was in even worse shape. Just picturing the way he looked when he stepped off the elevator last night, like a stray that had been beaten and starved, made her shudder. She sent up a silent prayer that he’d finally accepted the help his older brother was offering.

  Hudson never did tell her what had happened after he dropped her off at the penthouse, but whatever it was had been bad. Really bad. And knowing how Hudson felt about his brother, the responsibility he bore, she knew it was tearing him up inside. Was that what brought on his nightmare? The haunting image of him writhing as he fisted the sheets filled her mind. Allie had never witnessed a nightmare like that firsthand. It had been excruciating to watch him in so much pain, his legs tangled in the bedding, his face contorted, his chest heaving.

  He wouldn’t talk about it in bed last night. No big surprise there. Hudson was always so guarded about his life, particularly his past, but Allie planned to bring it up the first chance she had. If they were going to build a life together, she wanted to be a part of all of it. The good and the bad. But more than that, she wanted to help him if she could. It was obvious from what she’d witnessed that he kept something buried deep inside, something that surfaced when he slept, gripping him when he was most vulnerable, when he had no control. She would do anything if it meant never seeing him in that kind of pain again. Anything.

  At her apartment Allie quickly showered and changed into a chocolate-brown jersey dress, pairing it with the hoop earrings Hudson had once said caught the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. She left her hair in loose curls, just the way she knew he liked it, and at the last minute decided to leave her panties in the drawer. A shiver ran through her at the thought of his reaction when his questing fingers discovered her lack of lingerie.

  Anxious to get to the penthouse, she grabbed a few outfits for work and threw them in a bag. She was halfway out the door when her phone rang. The screen read “private caller.” Hudson. Her lips curved into a wide smile as she answered the call. “Missing me?” she purred.

  There was silence on the line, then a heavy exhale. “Oui, of course.”

  “Julian?” She glanced at her watch, quickly adjusting for the time change. “What are you doing up so late? Isn’t it almost two in Paris?”

  “I’m in Chicago. Actually, I’m stuck on the fucking Kennedy.”

  “You’re back?” Her voice sounded much louder than she’d intended.

  “My business concluded sooner than expected so I—how do you say?—caught a flight.”

  Oh shit. She wasn’t expecting to have this conversation until next weekend. She needed time to prepare, time to sort out what she wanted to say. Maybe she could stall, at least buy herself one night.

  “You must be exhausted. Get some sleep and we can meet for drinks after work tomorrow. The Peninsula, say six o’clock?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” There was a brief pause as he took a drag off his cigarette. “I told the driver to drop me at your apartment.”

  She glanced around her apartment, but for what she had no idea. “How far out are you?”

  “Je ne sais pas—fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Sooner if these fucking imbeciles would learn to drive.”

  What? The ride from O’Hare was always a nightmare. Just her luck tonight would be the exception.

  “Great. I’ll see you then.” Allie tried to keep her voice light as she rushed him off the phone. She needed to collect herself. She needed to call Hudson. He was expecting her to meet him at his penthouse. Crap. This was not a conversation she wanted to have over the phone.

  The call went to voice mail and Allie breathed a sigh of relief. She knew he would have pressed her for answers, and right now she just didn’t have the time. Hudson’s outgoing message was gruff, to the point, and for some bizarre reason, made her smile.

  “Hi, it’s me. Um . . . Julian just called. He’s back in town and headed over here.” She paused, debating how much more to say, and then simply added, “I need to talk to him. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  ***

  When Julian arrived, he went straight to the kitchen to fix himself a drink. And if his bloodsh
ot eyes were any indication, it wasn’t his first of the night. Or second, for that matter. If Allie had to guess, he’d probably had more than a few on the transatlantic flight. Had he always drank so much?

  Glass in hand, he leaned against the counter, casting a leering glance down her body.

  She felt her palms grow damp. There was no easy way to do this; might as well get it over with. “Julian . . .”

  “Wait.” He strolled toward her, oozing arrogance. “Forgot one thing.” He leaned closer and the sour stench of alcohol mixed with the sweet scent of his cologne. Allie’s empty stomach churned. What had she ever seen in this man? Just as he was about to kiss her, she turned her head a fraction, offering him her cheek instead.

  “We need to talk,” she whispered.

  Julian snorted and tossed back the rest of his vodka. “Talk? Tu te fous de moi? I’ve been traveling all day; the last thing I want to do is talk.” He set his glass down on the end table and slid his hands around Allie’s waist.

  “I can’t do this.” She tried wriggling out of his arms, but his hold on her tightened as his lips found her neck.

  “I’ve been gone almost two weeks, ma chérie.” He was everywhere at once. His long hands roaming down her back; his wet lips moving across her skin; his hardening erection digging into her hip. She flattened her palms against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t budge.

  “I’m serious, Julian. Stop.”

  “Let me guess, you have a headache?” His hands slid to her backside, feeling his way over her body and holding her tight against him. “I thought those excuses started after the ceremony?” he said, letting his tongue dip into her ear.

  “I can’t marry you.”

  He lifted his head. She’d expected shock, even anger, but Julian’s eyes blazed with raw fury. “The hell you can’t,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t love you.” Her voice was small but firm.

  “Love?” He sneered at her. “This has nothing to do with love, Alessandra.” Julian released her and she exhaled the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. “It’s an arrangement. Part of the deal.”