The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You

by Laurelin Paige

  Mira didn’t approve of his lack of attention either. “Huds, it’s the weekend. Put your Blackberry away.” She nudged him with her elbow. “You finally have a girlfriend. Are you trying to run her off?”

  Hudson finished his typing and raised his head. “Hmm?”

  I stepped in front of him and put my hands on his biceps—his perfectly sculpted biceps. “Listen to your sister and stop with the working.”

  He pocketed his phone and wrapped his arms around me. “Are you feeling ignored?” His face had relaxed, but his eyes still showed signs of distress.

  “You’re going to make me think you have another girl.” Maybe he did have another girl. I’d nixed the sex and maybe he was now going through his contact list.

  I shoved the idea out of my mind and rubbed my nose against his. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I lowered my voice and asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s work.” He nuzzled his face against mine, but not before he glanced at Mira to make sure she was watching. His phone buzzed in his pocket again. He pulled it out, leaving one arm wrapped loosely around me. His body stiffened under my hands as he read his text. “I’m sorry, baby, I have to make a phone call.”

  Baby? In my head, I rolled my eyes.

  Mira actually did roll her eyes. “Come with me, Laynie. He can make his boring call. Let’s go try some of these things on you.” She took my arm, ready to lead me to the dressing room.

  Hudson paused his dialing. “Hold on a second, I’ll join you.”

  Mira shook her head. “We’ll come out and show you her outfits. Don’t worry.”

  “Mirabelle, I’m not leaving Alayna alone with my over-enthusiastic little sister.”

  I vacillated between gratefulness for Hudson’s protection and suspicion that he didn’t want me alone with Mira for reasons of his own. I leaned toward suspicion, but that may have been because I’m suspicious by nature.

  Mira glared at her brother. “You’re not coming in the fitting room. That’s just...wrong.”

  Deciding that I could handle her fine on my own, if that was indeed the reason he meant to keep us apart, I pulled away from Mira’s grasp and leaned into Hudson. “I’ll be fine, H.” I shortened his name partly out of the need for something more familiar to call him and partly to irritate him. “Take care of whatever you need to.”

  “H?” he questioned so only I could hear.

  I whispered in return. “Go with it, baby.” I meant to only give him a peck, but when my lips brushed his, he pulled them in for a deeper kiss—a kiss that felt much more involved than necessary if it was only for Mira’s sake.

  The afternoon went quickly as I tried on nearly every item in the boutique. Mira helped me dress, pairing each outfit with appropriate shoes and accessories. I had always loved trying on new clothes, but I’d never looked or felt as good as I did wearing Mira’s choices. I felt like a model.

  At each outfit change, she’d parade me out for Hudson who smiled and nodded in between talking on the phone. Occasionally he’d shake his head in disapproval, usually when an outfit was slightly risqué. And a few times I saw the glint of desire in his eyes—the one that had claimed me on the night I met him. Those outfits were the ones I set aside as my favorites.

  When we’d already selected a dress for the fashion show, plus a stack of additional outfits, Mira held up a long black evening gown with a corset bodice. “We’ve saved the best for last,” she said.

  Though the idea of wearing a corset around Hudson had me slightly anxious because of my first encounter with him, I’d never seen anything so exquisite as the gown Mira held, and I knew before I’d even put it on that it would be gorgeous.

  Mira helped me remove my bra then lifted the dress over my head, pulling it down over my bust. “So Hudson told me you met at some college thingy,” she said as she began to thread the laces.

  I swallowed. I’d assumed that Hudson would have told people we met at the club, but this made more sense. It gave the fictional Alayna and Hudson time to fall in love. Still, it threw me off for a moment, and I paused before answering. “Yeah, it was a graduate symposium at Stern.”

  Mira tightened another lace. “I have to know, was it love at first sight for you too, or just him?”

  So he’d claimed love at first sight. Nice touch. “Definitely for me too.”

  I saw Mira smile behind me in the mirror. “It’s all so romantic. How he wanted to hire you and you already had a job, so he bought the club you work at to get closer to you.”

  I sucked in a quick breath, shocked at this new addition to the story. “He told you that?”

  Mira clasped her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh my god, did you not know?”

  “No, no, I knew.” I hadn’t known, of course. But what really struck me was the possibility that it could be true. I’d dismissed it when it had occurred to me before. Now, I couldn’t dismiss it so easily.

  I also couldn’t think about it right then. Not when Mira still looked frightened that she’d said something she shouldn’t have. I tried to ease her. “It was crazy romantic that he bought the club. I just didn’t think he’d tell anyone.”

  What I said worked. Mira’s face relaxed. “It is surprising. He’s usually so private about his emotions. You must bring out something in him.” She stepped away from me. “And this dress will totally bring something out in him or else he’s completely blind. You look incredible!”

  She was right—I did look incredible. And when we walked out into the boutique, Hudson did more than merely smile and nod. He hung up his phone and gawked.

  “Do you like?” I could already tell the answer from his hungry eyes. That look of his, it never failed to arouse me, never failed to make my panties wet.

  He nodded slowly, seemingly speechless, and I marveled that I had brought him to that state. It made me feel more attractive and more powerful than I’d ever felt.

  “Wow, Huds is at a loss for words,” Mira said, her hands resting on her pregnant belly. “Call Ripley’s.”

  Ignoring his sister, Hudson walked up to me. “I’d take you in my arms,” he murmured, “but I wouldn’t be able to look at you anymore. You’re stunning, Alayna.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. This moment was for us, not Mira. I was beautiful to him and that made him all the more beautiful to me. It also made my nipples stand at attention, an uncomfortable predicament when a corset already had my breasts in a vise grip.

  “Okay guys, I’d tell you to get a room, but I’m afraid you’ll use one of the dressing rooms.” Mira threatened to break the moment, but the intensity of it lingered. “I don’t have to ask if you’re buying this one.”

  “We’re taking it.” Hudson didn’t take his eyes off me, proving the truth in his statement since he couldn’t stop looking.

  A brief image flashed into my mind of him and me going at it right there on the showroom floor. But since we had spectators—and since, by my own decree it was a sex-free day—I looked away. The lapse in eye contact helped give me the strength to pull away as well. “I’ll get changed.”

  Mira led the way, stopping at the door of the dressing room to glance at her watch. “Aw, crap, is that really the time? I’m totally late! Go on in. I’ll send Stacy to help you undress.” She hugged me quickly. “And it was so wonderful to finally meet you. I’ll see you tomorrow at the fashion show.”

  I huffed at a strand of hair that had fallen over my face and entered the dressing room, not at all eager to encounter Stacy and her dagger eyes alone. While I waited for her, I reached behind my back to see if I could unlace the corset myself, snagging my fingernail on one of the threads. I was examining the nail, trying to smooth out the rough edge when I felt Stacy’s hands undoing the laces. She had so much hatred for me she hadn’t even offered a greeting.

  I glanced up from my nail at her in the mirror. But it wasn’t Stacy undoing my corset—it was Hudson.

  He met my eyes, pinning my reflection with a greedy stare. Slo
wly, without breaking his gaze, he continued loosening the laces of my bodice.

  I didn’t stop him. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t stop him.

  When he’d finished loosening my gown, his hands traveled to the spaghetti straps at my shoulders. I watched as he moved the straps over the curve of my bones and down my arms. The dress fell to the floor, leaving me in nothing but black strappy heels and my red thong.

  Hudson’s eyes widened and my sex clenched.

  I wanted him. Whatever I told myself about healthy and unhealthy relationships, it didn’t matter. I was already in this with him. If there was a point of attachment that would lead me to obsession, I’d already passed it. And admitting that made me sorry I’d ever tried to be anything different with him.

  Hudson’s hands ran around my waist, meeting above my navel. Then while one hand traveled up to fondle my breast, the other moved under the band of my thong. I stepped my legs apart, an invitation for him to find my swollen bud. His lip twitched the slightest bit as he slid his fingers through my slick desire, parting the folds of my sex, and releasing the musky aroma of my lust. In that moment he knew how much I longed for him, embarrassingly wet as I was.

  He continued to plump my breast that was suddenly heavy and tender as he flicked his thumb across my raised nipple. The attention he gave to my bosom magnified the action below, his pad returning to tease my clit, and I let out a breathy moan. He stretched his arm over my torso, supporting me as I weakened from pleasure and I closed my eyes to relish in the nearness of climax.

  “Alayna, watch.” Hudson’s thick voice at my ear startled my eyes open. “See how beautiful you are when you come.”

  My sexual history had not been comprehensive. Dark rooms with half-drunk partners and clumsy fumbling hands. Keeping my eyes open during only ever happened on accident. Mirrors and public places were never on my fantasy list. But I watched his hand moving at my core, his thumb circling my sensitive nub, his finger dipping into my wet center. He was right—it was beautiful. It was beautiful how he stroked me, how he knew what to do to make me feel the way I wanted to feel, how my skin flushed and my back arched. It was beautiful how he held me when I jolted in his arms, my orgasm moving through me in one long eruption.

  “Put your palms on the mirror.” His husky command and the anticipation of knowing what he was about to do sparked a new wave of arousal, even more intense than before.

  Still shaking, I reached my hands out in front of me, his arms leaving me as soon as I had managed to support myself. Behind me, I heard his zipper, the sound raising my level of excitement, knowing his cock was released and seconds away from being inside of me. The four-inch heels I still wore put me right at his level, and he pushed easily into my moist channel with a groan. “Fuck, Alayna!”

  Our eyes met in the mirror, the connection between us frighteningly intense, and a panic rushed through me. He saw it, or sensed it, and he coaxed me through it, telling me he was with me, assuring me he’d take care of me, promising me he felt it too.

  I bit my lip to suppress the moans that threatened to escape, aware that only a door stood between us and Stacy—Stacy who likely rehung and folded the discarded outfits I’d tried on earlier as I was gloriously fucked by the man she lusted after. But when I came this time I didn’t hold back my cry, desperate to let Hudson know what he’d done to me.

  I was still whimpering when his own orgasm took him, his weight heavy on my back as he leaned into his release.

  And if I wondered that the whole act was a display for his sister’s assistant, his whisper in my ear said otherwise. “This, precious. This is for real.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Hudson let me choose the majority of clothes and shoes he purchased for me. In the end, it was a generous pile. I purposefully didn’t listen to the total cost as Stacy read it off for him, afraid that I’d feel like I had a sugar daddy or, worse, that I was his whore.

  We ate a nice dinner in an Italian restaurant in the Village then Hudson drove me to the club. Unusually lucky to find a curbside parking spot on the block, he took advantage and parked, letting the car idle.

  “My mother’s charity fashion show starts at one tomorrow. I’ll need to pick you up at twelve-fifteen. I’m sorry you won’t get more sleep. You’re off at three this morning?”

  “Yeah. I can handle it.”

  “Jordan will be here to pick you up. I’ll make sure he has all your packages and that he helps you up to your apartment.” A sly grin crept onto his face. “Unless you’d rather I picked you up.”

  Hudson take me home? Yes, I’d rather, but I needed to keep some boundaries. I’d already let him have me when I explicitly said I wouldn’t. “I’m afraid I’d get even less sleep that way.”

  “Right. Probably not a good idea.”

  We sat for several seconds, the sexual tension sparking in the silence. Should I kiss him goodbye? Would he kiss me goodbye? Did we have time to sneak into the coatroom for a quickie? I had cleaned up as well as I could in the restroom of the restaurant, but the smell of sex still hung in the air and it had me thinking dirty thoughts. I didn’t want to leave.

  “Is everything okay with work?” It was an excuse to linger, but I also was genuinely interested in his series of texts and calls at the store.

  “I can handle it,” he said repeating my earlier words.

  I’d hoped he’d tell me more, but he hadn’t shared any business with me since I’d known him. There was no reason to believe he would now. I gazed at him for a bit, until it made me feel funny, my stomach flip-flopping as if I were descending on a Ferris wheel. Then I looked out the front window. Liesl strolled down the street, her purple hair making her easy to spot. It gave me an idea. Another excuse, actually. This time to get the physical contact I longed for.

  “Since the ruse is on, we’d better make it official.” I gestured toward Liesl, and Hudson nodded in understanding.

  “Excellent idea.” He paused, waiting for Liesl to get a little closer, ensuring she got a good show. Then he got out of the car and crossed to my door, opening it to let me out. He brushed his thumb down my cheek. “Ready?”

  I was never ready, but I tilted my chin up so my mouth could meet his. Our lips joined, our tongues flitting around each other. My knees buckled, but his hands were around my back, supporting me. I gripped his shirt, wanting desperately to tangle my fingers in his hair, knowing that would only fuel my lust. Seriously, it had only been a couple of hours since our adventure in the dressing room, and yet it felt like I hadn’t gotten any in months.

  He pulled away and stole a glance at Liesl. “She saw,” he said softly.

  “Oh.” I’d already forgotten our PDA had been meant for her. “Good.” I swallowed. “Thank you,” I whispered, still breathless. “For today.” For buying me pretty clothes, for ignoring my request to keep the day sex-free, for taking the air out of my lungs with a kiss on Columbus Circle.

  “Tomorrow, Alayna.”

  I managed to pull myself away from him, only looking back once as he got in the car. Liesl folded her arms across her chest, leaning against the door, holding it open for me. “Time for details,” she said as I passed her.

  And I delivered, telling her all about Hudson and Alayna, the happy couple, interweaving truth with fiction. I told her we’d met at Stern and that he’d bought the club to be near me, but not to tell that to David. I told her we spent all our free time together, that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, that we were madly in love.

  The lies came easily and they felt good. They felt believable. Not because I knew Liesl believed them, which she did, but because I almost could too.

  ***

  It was nearly four when Jordan and I had finished unloading all my packages into my apartment, but I wasn’t tired yet. For a moment I had a pang of regret, wishing I’d let Hudson take me home instead. Thoughts of him had clung to me all night—I couldn’t count the number of times I’d started and deleted a text to him—and my sex felt swolle
n and aching with want of him.

  I’d been strong in the car, recognizing the unhealthiness of filling all my time with the man. Now, alone and needy, I weakened. Instead of heading straight to bed, as I should have done, I turned on my computer and allowed myself to do the one thing I’d tried so hard not to do: I cyber-stalked.

  I told myself I needed to find information about Hudson so I’d be prepared. What if his mother made a comment about his college background? I’d want to know he studied at Harvard. Or what if someone asked me about my thoughts on Hudson’s philanthropic investments? It benefitted me to know he was a major benefactor of the Lincoln Center and that he funded a private scholarship at Julliard.

  And his exes. I needed to know about them, too. Though, I didn’t find much in that department. Mostly pictures of Hudson with a variety of women. I gasped when I recognized one of the women as Stacy from Mirabelle’s shop. She’d been on at least one date with Hudson. No wonder she had animosity toward me.

  Not one face repeated except for Celia Werner’s, the thin, pretty blonde his family wanted him to marry. They never actually appeared “together” together, but she did have a look of adoration in her eyes that caused me to doubt that she would be completely unhappy with an arranged marriage with him. But, then again, I couldn’t believe anyone would be unhappy with Hudson.

  I found out a great deal about my supposed boyfriend in those hours, but, truthfully, my Internet search had little to do with being prepared for Hudson’s family and friends. I searched because I felt compelled to understand the man who affected me so completely. I read article after article because I wanted to know the silly little trivia that only a true fan or intimate friend knew. I sat behind my computer until my eyes were blurry, soaking up every bit of Hudson Pierce enlightenment I could find, because I couldn’t not do it.

  If I was obsessing, I didn’t care. Hudson drew me to him with magnetic force. And while I knew that my behavior could only be allowed as a one-time lapse, I relished the high of fixating on the man who had already clearly stated he would never be mine.