Reborn

by Fall, Carly

  Sighing, she brought the pillow to her chest and closed her eyes. For the first time since her mom’s suicide, she knew she was going to be okay. She had been hesitant to tell Hudson about her mother, the addiction, and losing her ability to practice medicine. She felt relief that a stranger had been so accepting, and she realized that maybe she needed to go a little easier on herself. After the initial hesitation, the words had flowed so freely with him, and she was really happy she had talked to him.

  The phone ringing startled her, and she stared at it unsure of whether she should pick it up. Before she could make up her mind, it stopped for a moment, and then started again.

  “Hello?” she said hesitantly.

  “Hey, Beverly,” Hudson’s low voice rumbled through the phone. “You up?”

  “Yes.” His voice seemed to rattle her bones, and in a really, really good way.

  “Okay, I’m on my way down. Looks like I’ve sprung a leak in my stomach.”

  Beverly sat up and swung her legs over the bed, going into full doctor mode. “What color is the fluid?” she asked.

  “You can see for yourself in a minute, okay?”

  “Okay. I hope an infection hasn’t set in.”

  “You and me both,” he said.

  She heard the soft click of the phone, then stood up and stretched. Ten minutes later Hudson was stretched out on the bed, and she was undoing the buttons of his shirt.

  She examined the wound on his chest closely. “I don’t think there’s any infection,” she murmured. “I do want to clean in up, though. Maybe put one more stitch in.”

  Going to the bathroom, she pulled out the needed supplies from the cabinet. As she returned to the bed, she didn’t meet Hudson’s eyes, but she could feel his gaze on her, watching her every move.

  She cleaned the wound and decided on one more stitch. A few minutes later, she was done, and she sat up, meeting Hudson’s eyes. Her breath caught as she met the dark pools. They stared at each other for a moment, and she envisioned leaning down to kiss him, taking care to avoid the cut in his lip. She imagined what it would feel like to have his hands travel up and down her body, to feel his hard chest against her.

  He cleared his throat, bringing her back to reality. “It’s almost dinner time, and I could use some help if you don’t have anything better to do.”

  She started laughing. Here she was thinking being selfish and thinking about sex, and he was being selfless and thinking about feeding those he loved. Shaking her head, she teased, “Hudson, I’m busy. I’ve got so many things to do I don’t know where to start.”

  Hudson chuckled and brought his hand up to his mouth. “Knock it off, Beverly. You just made my lip crack open again.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, still giggling.

  There was a beat of silence.

  “What do you say?” he said in his deep, quiet way.

  “I’d be happy to help you,” she said softly. She hoped there was a lot of chopping involved so she could feel his body close to hers, and his hands on hers as he showed her the finer points of wielding a kitchen knife.

  “Good,” he said. “Would you mind helping me up?”

  Beverly took his hand in hers, surprised again at the energy that flowed between them. Giving him a pull, he was able to stand.

  “We’ve got Mexican on the menu tonight.”

  Beverly smiled. She loved Mexican food.

  Chapter 24

  Preparing dinner had consisted of being in close quarters with Hudson. He had showed her how to gut a green pepper, chop an onion at warp speed, and she helped him measure out dozens of spices.

  “I hate that store-bought crap,” he said, as he measured the cayenne pepper. They talked about this and that, and he asked about the restaurants in Tucson.

  “There’s one that’s a lot of fun, although I’ve only been there once. It’s called Kon Tiki. The food is pretty good, but the atmosphere is awesome!” She told him about the straw huts, the life-sized Tikis, and the huge Gila monster they used to keep in an enclosure.

  He smiled and said, “It sounds like a fun place. I’ll definitely have to check it out sometime.”

  He found himself thinking of Iris, and how conversation with her had been similar to conversation with Beverly. It flowed easily, and when there were breaks in the chatter, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

  His demon clawed and roared, twisting his insides.

  Abby came in and offered Beverly some white wine. “That sounds great, Abby. Thank you.”

  As she watched Hudson and Abby talk, she couldn’t help but feel there was more to the relationship than met the eye, almost as if they were somehow related, and not just friends as Abby had said. Possibly brother and sister? Cousins? The suicide note had asked Noah to take care of Abby, but she couldn't place the relationship between Hudson and Abby, and she made a mental note to ask. She noticed that Hudson talked to her in an almost fatherly way, which seemed ridiculous since they looked the same age, give or take a couple of years.

  Faith and Rayner came in to offer their help, and the conversation got livelier as Rayner rode Hudson. “Damn, Hudson. You look like ten pounds of shit in a five-pound bag, if you know what I mean.”

  Hudson rolled his eyes.

  “Seriously, man, the pretty boy ain’t so pretty anymore!”

  Everyone laughed, and Abby poured more wine into Beverly’s glass.

  Hudson shook his head. “I look better than you on my worst day, Rayner,” he said with a slight grin.

  “Man, that day has arrived.”

  The alarm on the stove went off, letting them know something was done. “All right. Everyone out of my kitchen. Except Beverly. She’s the only one around here with any manners.”

  “We’ll get the table set, Hudson,” Abby said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek.

  “Tell Noah and Talin dinner is in five, if you wouldn’t mind, honey.”

  She nodded and left.

  Hudson leaned against the counter and took a deep breath.

  “Are you okay, Hudson?”

  He looked at her and nodded. “Just tired. It’s draining being in pain, Beverly. Totally draining.”

  ***

  Beverly looked around the table. Noah and Abby sat together, as did Rayner and Faith. The talk was light, the laughter heavy, and the food was the best Mexican dishes she had ever tasted.

  So she had seconds.

  And then thirds.

  She watched as the platters of food disappeared at an alarming rate, tracked the conversation, and drank more wine. She felt Hudson’s stare on her and she turned to him.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, taking a sip of scotch.

  “I’m good, Hudson.”

  She looked around the table again, envy whipping through her. How she longed to belong to something like this. It was a family, and she felt the pang of loss at losing her mom, and she wondered again if she would ever have a family of her own.

  To her, a family had always consisted of one of the nuclear variety—a mom, dad, a kid or two, a dog and a fish—give or take on the animals. Knowing that chances were high that she would never have biological children of her own had devastated her. But sitting at this table, she realized that family came in many different forms, and the true definition didn’t consist of people from the same blood lines, but people who cared deeply about each other.

  Hudson took her hand. “You sure you’re okay, Bev? You look like you’re about to get teary on me.”

  She smiled at him and nodded. “You’re very fortunate to have these people, Hudson,” she said quietly. “Don’t ever forget that.”

  “Hey, what are you two whispering about down there?” Noah’s voice boomed. “Something the rest of us should know? Haven’t you told Beverly that there are no secrets in this house, Hudson?”

  Beverly looked at Noah, who was smiling. He gave her a wink. “You’d be surprised at the secrets in this house, Noah,” she said with a grin.

 
Ooh’s and aah’s came from those around the table, everyone wanting her to dish.

  She laughed and had more wine.

  “You all sound like a bunch of little old ladies,” Hudson said. Beverly could tell he more than half meant it.

  After dinner, Abby and Noah cleaned up in the kitchen, and there was talk of a movie. The debate broke out between an action flick or a chick flick.

  “We always have to watch movies where stuff blows up, Noah,” Abby said. “For once, let’s just watch something nice. About people in love or something.”

  Noah rolled his eyes.

  “Vin Diesel is in love in The Fast and the Furious,” Talin chimed in.

  The argument continued for a few more minutes and finally it was decided they would watch the latest James Bond flick.

  “Perfect,” Talin said. “Fast cars, beautiful women, sex, explosions, and cool gadgets. And more sex. And gadgets.”

  “Do you feel like watching, Bev?” Hudson said into her ear as he came up behind her. She hadn’t heard him, and now that he was so close, she felt a chill go down her spine, and her face flushed at the thoughts that went through her mind.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe for a bit.” She turned around and looked up at him, concerned at what she saw. “You look exhausted,” she said.

  He nodded. Just inches separated them, and she fought the desire to take that one small step and wrap her arms around his waist.

  “I am. I’m thinking I’ll turn in, if it’s okay with you.”

  She hoped the disappointment didn’t show in her face. “Of course. You need your rest. Have a good sleep, Hudson.”

  His eyes met hers for a moment, and the world disappeared just as it had before when he looked at her like this.

  He brought his hand up and gently touched her cheek. “Goodnight, Bev.”

  She watched as he slowly made his way to the elevator.

  Chapter 25

  Hudson wasn’t all that tired. Well, he was in a way. The pain searing him from within was just about unmanageable, and his demon was at full force. That was tiring.

  He just needed some space to try to deal.

  I like you, but I’ll never love you.

  When he got to his quarters, his breath was shallow, his mind fuzzy, a complete disconnect from reality, almost a disassociation. He didn’t have the energy to take out the contacts that dulled the glow of his eyes, so he left them in, stripped, and lay down on the bed. Jesus, he was wrecked. His demon had control, raking and clawing him from within. He knew Cohen would be home in a few hours, and then he would hit the gym for as long as it took to make the pain manageable. Until then, he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal.

  Chapter 26

  By the end of the movie, Beverly and Abby had finished another bottle of wine, and Beverly was happily drunk. They giggled like schoolgirls as they admired James Bond and ignored the eye rolls of everyone else in the room. Beverly actually thought she heard Noah growl a time or two while they discussed James Bond and his sexiness, but maybe she had been mistaken.

  After the movie, Beverly said goodnight to everyone, went down to her floor, and then realized she still hadn’t moved everything out of Hudson’s room. She thought she should probably just fall into her own bed, but going to get her stuff gave her a reason to see Hudson. She rationalized with herself that not only did she need her bag, but she needed to check on her patient.

  When the elevator doors opened, she stepped out and pushed open the door to the room. Hudson was lying on his back, and from the light shining in from the bathroom she could also see that he was gloriously naked. Inhaling sharply, she hoped that he wouldn’t hear her, but at the same time praying that he would.

  And he did.

  He turned to her.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked in a husky, far away voice, as if he wasn’t fully present. Against her better judgment, she went to the bed.

  “I…I came to check on you,” she said quietly. “Are you okay, Hudson?”

  “I’m fine,” he said and looked away.

  Trying to get her “doctor face” on, she assessed his body. She let her eyes travel from his face, then down his battered and beaten torso. Her eyes stopped at his sex.

  “You like what you see, Beverly?”

  She snapped her gaze back to his face and said nothing.

  “See, I think you do,” he said in the same husky tone, as if he needed a glass of water. “I think you like it a lot.”

  She imagined this situation would be awkward at best. Perhaps it was the wine, but it didn’t feel that way to her. The sexual tension in the room was so thick, she could feel it practically clogging her throat when she breathed. “I…I do,” she whispered.

  And good God, did she.

  Hudson stared at her. “Just like you liked it that night when you watched me with that other woman, right? You want me to do that to you?”

  Beverly shut her eyes. How many times had she fantasized about that since that night? Dozens? More?

  “If you want me to do that to your body, Beverly, if you want my hands all over your skin gently caressing you, if you want my mouth between your legs suckling and licking you, if you want my cock inside you, slowly pumping you to orgasm, all you have to do is say yes. And I’ll do it. Just tell me what to do, what you want, and I’ll make it happen for you. Just say yes.”

  Beverly’s mouth went dry and she shut her eyes.

  Oh. My. God.

  He was offering to fulfill every sexual fantasy she had conjured up since she had first seen him. Her stomach did a flip-flop, and she wasn’t sure what emotion the butterflies fluttering in her belly represented.

  ***

  Somewhere beneath the fog of the agony inside him, Hudson knew what he was doing was wrong on a lot of levels. The last thing Beverly needed was for him to use her to relieve this mind-fuck he had going on.

  At that point, none of it mattered. Due to his injuries, he couldn’t workout, and he couldn’t fight. He had done a shitload of cooking, and that helped very little. The last thing on his list had just walked through the door.

  A woman.

  But not any woman, he reminded himself. Beverly. The one who was supposed to be worshipped, not used like all the other women since Iris.

  A knife in his heart.

  More pain.

  Fucking agony.

  Desperation for relief.

  He didn’t really track what he said next. At some level he realized he was looking for one word.

  He studied her face, barely seeing her.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He closed his eyes, relief flooding through him to that place that wasn’t quite reality.

  Chapter 27

  Hudson had Beverly stretched out on the bed, just as he had the woman at the hotel. Her dainty hands were handcuffed to the metal cylinders attached to the headboard, her breathing coming in short spurts. As her piercing eyes stared up at him, he knew he didn’t want to see them. He needed her to be anonymous; he couldn’t allow himself to know it was Beverly.

  He got off the bed and went to the dresser, stumbling, as if he was stark raving drunk, and pulled out a silk blindfold from the top drawer, something he had used many times on other women in his outside-the-silo conquests. The softness of the black fabric slithered through his fingers as he went back to the bed.

  “This will make it better,” he mumbled to himself as he gently tied it around her eyes. As he looked her over, her marveled at her beauty.

  Her breast were small, but full, her stomach flat, the small flair of her hips inviting. Her legs were long and toned, and her sex was bare.

  He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, the slightly flowery scent channeling itself into his brain.

  She was beauty beyond anything he had ever seen.

  And he’d seen a lot.

  He opened his eyes again to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

  Shit. He wasn’t.

  Her lily-white
skin glowed in the light from the bathroom against the black silk sheets of the bed. And it looked as soft as the sheets as well.

  It’s just a body. A vessel to relieve the demon.

  He looked down his own body at the angry stitches and his sex jutting out from his hips ready to be used.

  Glancing back at Beverly, a fissure in his delirious fog opened, and he questioned what he was doing. Almost immediately, it closed again, and he was back in the same place of just needing to soothe his pain.

  He ran a thumb over her nipple and heard her gasp. He gently traced his forefinger down between her breasts, lightly over her ribcage, and down her stomach, stopping at the apex of her sex.

  Her hips arched and her legs spread a bit, an invitation for him to keep going.

  Instead, he lowered his head and gently suckled her nipple, careful of the cut on his lip. With his hand, he massaged her other breast.

  He watched her begin to thrash on the bed, her head turning side to side, her hands pulling at the fur-lined cuffs. Her soft moans let him know that she was enjoying herself.

  His tongue traveled, peppering her neck with light kisses and exploring her torso. She was delicious. The only thing that would make her taste better would be just a light layer of whipped cream.

  Sweet Jesus.

  He groaned just thinking about it.

  Sliding his hand down between her legs, he felt the softness of her inner thighs. His fingers traveled up slowly to her secret flesh, and he probed the folds, finding them slick and hot.

  He let his finger slide into her core and was rewarded with her hips undulating off the bed, a groan escaping from her throat.

  Gently removing his finger, he licked it clean and he poised himself above her, ready to take her. She spread her legs, ready to receive him. As he looked her over, the fog in his brain cleared again, and he realized that the blindfold wasn’t helping at all. Everything about her registered in his brain as Beverly: her soft skin, her sweet scent, her perfect lips, her blonde hair splayed out on the black pillowcase.