He sat up, and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Rebecca stared at him from her perch on the sofa. She’d drawn her legs up and tucked them under her. The light from the hall fell across her features, bathing them in a soft glow. Her eyes were huge, and they glistened as she slowly blinked and exhaled, while loose hair tumbled down her shoulders in soft golden ropes. He could just make out the lace edge of her bra strap because her blouse yawned open.
“I guess I missed the end of the movie.” He found his voice and sat up straighter.
“Uh-huh.” There was a husky quality to her voice, as if she’d nursed a tumbler of whiskey, and man, something about the tone brought to mind all sorts of wicked things.
“Anyone die?” he asked lightly.
A small smile flickered across her face and then vanished as quick as it had come. “Not in a hail of bullets.”
“No explosions?”
She shook her head, and Hudson decided he liked this flirting thing.
“Not the kind you like,” she replied.
“I figured as much. Next time, I get to pick the movie.”
He watched her and time sort of stopped. They stared at each other, shadows sliding across rapid pulses and overheated skin, while Hudson’s head went south—way south—and he fought the erotic images that assaulted his brain. He needed to get the hell away from her before he ruined things.
He jumped to his feet, actually made it to the door, when she spoke.
“Stay.”
This woman was going to kill him. Literally kill him.
“I want you to stay.” Her voice sounded different, and he was pretty sure Rebecca was no longer on the sofa but close to him. He closed his eyes and inhaled that sweet vanilla scent that was all her. Definitely close to him.
“We decided to be friends, remember?” He was trying to do the right thing. God, was he trying. “I think I should go.”
“Fuck the friend thing.”
She moved quickly then, and a second later, he stared down into the one face he would never forget. Not ever. Rebecca Draper was in his blood like a fever, and he had a feeling he would never be cured. Not if he lived to be one hundred. Even then, she would manage to get his blood boiling.
“Becca, you don’t mean that. Just the other day you told me—”
“I know what I told you.” She shook her head. “And I’m taking it back.”
“You can’t take it back.”
She made a face. “I can take it back if I want to. And I want to.”
The air between was electrified. It curled around them both, embraced them with a primal energy that was hard to ignore. But Hudson had to get this right. No way was he going to be responsible for causing Rebecca pain. Not again.
“This right here, Becs, is not a good thing.”
She stepped closer, and he clamped his mouth shut, when her hand reached for him. Not for his face. Or his chest. Or even his hand. Her palm swept across the hardness between his legs, and he bit back a groan when she settled there and caressed him through his jeans.
“You don’t think this is a good thing?” she murmured, her voice sexy as hell, her eyes wide and open. Her lips wet and sultry from her tongue.
“You’re not playing fair,” Hudson bit out as she went for his belt buckle. He grabbed her hands and held her tightly. Both of them were breathing heavily, and his gaze fell to her chest as it rose and fell. He had to take a moment because he was riding the edge and way too close. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall over, and who the hell knew what that would bring.
“Let’s do the adult thing and think about this.”
She made a clucking sound. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this all day.” With that, she wrenched her hands from his and undid the buttons on her blouse, letting the sides fall free and giving him a peek at the sexiest pink lace bra he’d ever seen.
“Thinking and doing are not the same thing.” He dragged his gaze up from her breasts, and, flush with desire and anger, he took a step back. He didn’t like feeling as if he wasn’t in control. He ran his fingers through his hair and regarded her warily. “What the hell, Becs?”
She looked so damn fierce staring up at him, all that hair and those eyes. His gaze dropped. And that barely there, pink bra just itching for his fingers.
“I’ve changed my mind. I want the benefits thing.” Her eyes were defiant, and there she went, licking those soft lips again. “But we do this my way.” She took a step closer. “My rules.”
Okay, that got his attention, in more places than one.
“Rules.” He practically growled the word.
“Yes.” She took a step closer to him. “See, I got it wrong before, Huds.” The little jezebel had the audacity to smile. Her tongue darted out and touched the edge of her mouth. She had to be doing it on purpose. Had to know it was killing him. “I don’t think I can do the friend thing. Not with you. It just won’t work, and we’ll end up hating each other again.”
“I never hated you, Becca.”
Rebecca made a sound, almost like a soft sigh. “Well, I did, Hudson. I hated you. There were times over the last twelve years that my hatred for you was the only thing that kept me going.”
It hurt him to hear that, and he wanted to say something, anything to make her understand, but the words escaped him. As it turned out, she wasn’t interested in anything he had to say.
“So I propose an arrangement that suits both of us. The friend thing is off the table. I mean, what’s the point? You’ll be leaving here eventually, and I might not ever see you again. But why not give the benefits thing a go?”
He couldn’t be hearing this right. “You want to use me for sex?”
“Why not?” She squared her shoulders, which only pushed her half-exposed breasts directly into his line of vision. “Men do it all the time.”
She was unbelievable.
“You can be my booty call. What do you say?”
And obviously enjoying herself.
“Jesus Christ, Rebecca. This isn’t you.”
Her eyes narrowed at that. “You don’t know me anymore, Hudson.” She glanced away, and for a few moments, silence fell over them again.
“No,” he said eventually. “I guess I don’t.”
He ran his hands over his chin, studying the woman in front of him. He was still hard as a rock, and he couldn’t lie, he wanted her more than he wanted to take his next breath.
“Are you seeing someone in DC?” she suddenly asked. “Because I draw the line at that.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, darlin’, but we already jumped over that line, remember?”
“Don’t be an asshole, Hudson.”
She was right. He was being a dick. “No,” he said watching her carefully. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
Her eyes dropped to his crotch, and a slow grin spread across her face. She took that last step until she was in front of him and reached for his cock.
“What do you say?” She breathed the words. “You in?”
There was power in her eyes. In the way she held her head, tilted her chin, and looked up at him. It was in the bold strokes of her fingers across his aching cock. In the tongue that darted out to lick along her bottom lip. That power and strength was hot as hell. And when Rebecca reached for Hudson’s belt buckle, he didn’t push her away.
He was probably crazy. Hell, they both were. But if there was gonna be hell to pay, they’d both have to cough up the dough.
At least there was that.
Chapter 22
Early on in life, Rebecca learned that friends were as important, if not more important, sometimes, than family. The good ones were there for you when life seemed hopeless. They listened to the things you didn’t dare tell your siblings. Things you couldn’t share with your mom. Things only your best girlfriend could hear, because your best girlfriend never judged. Not ever. That is, if she was a keeper. Luckily for Rebecca, Violet was a keeper.
Thank God.
>
Right now she needed a nonjudgmental, sympathetic ear, because she’d either screwed up big-time, or… Shit. Rebecca sighed and sat back on the stool. She’d opened a can of worms the night before, and while at the time it had seemed so right, in the harsh light of the day after, she wasn’t so sure.
She’d been in the Coach House for about twenty minutes, and the place was pretty much empty. That would change when the band started up in an hour or so. The regulars would come out even though it was raining buckets outside.
“You want another?” Tiny pointed to the empty glass in her hand.
“No,” Rebecca replied, pushing the glass toward him. “I’ll have a water until Violet gets here.”
She watched the burly man get busy and hid a smile. Tiny’s massive shoulders strained the T-shirt so badly, she was certain it would rip. His bald head shone beneath the overhead lighting, and his thick, fuzzy beard hung nearly two inches past his chin. He looked intimidating as hell but in reality was the one of the kindest men she knew. His heart was as big as his shoulders. Just the previous month, he’d adopted two kittens that needed round-the-clock care, and had spent several long nights bottle-feeding the little guys.
“How are Batman and Robin doing?” she asked, accepting the cold glass.
Tiny laughed, a full-on belly chuckle that lightened Rebecca’s mood instantly. “You mean Batman and Diana. Turns out the little orange one is a girl.”
Rebecca took a sip of water and frowned. “Diana?”
Tiny nodded as he shoved a pitcher under the tap and began to fill it with light amber draft. “Yeah. Wonder Woman was just too much of a mouthful, ya know? So I thought I’d go with Diana since, you know, Diana Prince is her name and all.”
“Makes sense,” Rebecca murmured, smiling at the thought of the big guy cuddling the small kittens.
“What’s the kid up to tonight?”
“Tomorrow’s a teacher work day, so my brother, Mac, and Cain took the boys to the cabin for some fishing before it gets too cold. They left around noon and won’t be back until dark tomorrow.”
“Nice!” Tiny grabbed the jug and two mugs. “I’ll be back in a second.”
“I’m good.”
She watched Tiny deliver the draft to a couple of old guys deep in conversation near the stage, and was just about to check her cell phone when Violet kissed her cheek and slid onto the stool beside her.
“Man, I need a drink.” Violet untwisted the long beige argyle scarf from around her neck and doffed her black leather jacket. “Twins OD’d on sugar after lunch and have been bouncing on the ceiling all day. Your phone call was the excuse I needed to leave them with Adam.”
“What can I get you, darling?” Tiny was back behind the bar.
Violet winked at him, and Rebecca hid a smile as Tiny’s cheeks heated up to a dusky red. “How about a large glass of your best pinot grigio.”
“Really? We’re going to do this again?” Tiny put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “You know we don’t have any of that pinot stuff. I got some sparkly or cider.”
“Well, you should get it,” Violet said, eyeing up the bottles on the shelf behind the bartender. “I’ll have a gin and tonic.”
“Right. Coming up.”
Tiny had barely moved out of earshot when Violet pressed her hands down onto the bar. “Okay. Spill.”
Rebecca choked on her water and pushed the glass away. Her stomach flipped, and her eyes darted pretty much everywhere else except where her friend sat.
“Becca.” Violet paused as Tiny handed her a glass, then took a big gulp. She waited until Tiny moved down to the end of the bar. “You’re the one who wanted to meet me here, remember?”
“I know,” she replied, meeting her girlfriend’s gaze.
Violet’s eyes narrowed. Her lips pursed, and she shook her head. “You slept with him again.”
No use denying it. “I did.”
“What the hell, Rebecca?” Violet reached for the bowl of nuts and shoved a bunch in her mouth before offering some to Rebecca. “I thought you said you weren’t going there again. If I remember correctly, you said that if you even came close to going where you did fair weekend that I could shoot you with my dad’s old rifle.”
“I know.” Rebecca hunched her shoulders and played with the condensation on her half-empty glass of water. “It’s Julia Roberts’s fault.”
Violet’s mouth fell open. Literally open. “Okay. You’re going to have to explain that one to me, because right now, I feel I’m looking at a crazy person.”
How in hell was Rebecca going to make Violet understand? On what planet did any of this make sense? She fingered the edge of her glass, tracing lazy patterns as her mind replayed the events of the night before. And then, with a soft sigh, decided to do her best.
“Maybe not so much Julia Roberts. But definitely Steel Magnolias.”
“The movie?” Violet’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and all Rebecca could do was nod.
“The movie.”
“This is going to be good.” Violet downed her gin and tonic. “You’re driving me home, right?”
“Sure.”
“Thank God.” Violet shouted at Tiny, “Hit me up with another,” and turned back to Rebecca. “Okay. I’m listening. Can’t wait to hear how Julia Roberts and Steel Magnolias made your legs fall open.”
“That’s crude.”
Violet giggled. “But totally one hundred percent correct, right? I mean, I’m impressed how you went from watching a sad, sappy movie to banging.”
Rebecca sighed. “Violet, seriously.”
But her friend wasn’t giving up. “I’m listening.”
Rebecca glanced around, just to make sure no one was within earshot. It was a small town, after all, and people liked to talk. Once she was satisfied her privacy was protected, she began.
“After dinner—”
“Why was Hudson at dinner again?” Violet interrupted, obviously curious.
Rebecca waited a beat to answer and realized this was going to be a long-drawn-out process. “Because we decided to do the friend thing. Remember?”
“Right.” Violet blew a kiss at Tiny when he handed her another drink. “You and Hudson, just friends. Because that’s such a good idea.”
Rebecca decided to ignore the shot. “After you and Adam left, we decided to watch a movie.”
“And you thought a tearjerker was going to put you in the mood?”
“No.” Rebecca counted to three. “I wasn’t looking to get in the mood.”
“Uh-huh.” Violet didn’t look convinced. “So, Steel Magnolias.”
“Yes.”
“With Julia Roberts.”
Rebecca glared at her girlfriend. “Will you just shut up and listen?”
“Sorry.” Violet giggled. “I’m enjoying this.”
“I couldn’t tell,” Rebecca said dryly. She finished her water and wished she’d asked for something a little stronger. “Anyway. Hudson fell asleep after, like an hour or so, and I finished watching it myself. I forgot how good it was.”
Violet made a face. “Um. It’s about a girl who dies. You want to watch a really good chick flick? Try Bridget Jones’s Diary. It’s got it all. Sex. Laughs. Sex. Some bad language. Sex.”
“We’re not here to nitpick about what is or isn’t a good chick flick.” Irritated, Rebecca glared at her pal. “Steel Magnolias is so much more than just a movie about a girl who dies. It’s about life and love and death. It’s about realizing how quickly things can change. How life can change. And I…” Her voice trailed off as she tried to gather her thoughts.
“You?”
“It made me think.” Was she even making any sense?
“About what?” Violet inched closer, her hands wrapped around her gin and tonic.
“I’m thirty-three years old. I’m divorced. A single mom. I don’t do anything for myself. Not really. And up until last week, I hadn’t had sex in three years.”
“Three years?” Vi
olet’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head. “You…” She sat back on her chair. “You and David didn’t have sex for the last two years of your marriage?”
Rebecca shook her head, hating the hot tears that pricked the corners of her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “It caused a lot of fights, but I couldn’t.” She cleared her throat, aware that she was going to share something she never had before. With anyone.
“The last time I had sex with David, it was just…” She blinked rapidly and looked down at her hands. They were fisted on her lap, the knuckles white, the nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms. “I hated every minute of it. I mean, the few years before that, the sex wasn’t good. It had never been amazing or anything, but in the beginning, at least, I enjoyed it. But after a while, I wasn’t in love with him. Wasn’t attracted to him at all. In fact, I think I hated him. But whenever he rolled over in bed and touched me, I would do it, just to get it over with. Just to make him happy. Because when David was happy, he didn’t hurt me.” She glanced back up at Violet. She needed to clarify. “He didn’t hurt me as much.”
“Shit, Becca.” Her friend grabbed her hands and waited.
“So that last time, I turned my face to the wall and tried not to cry. But he… After he was done, he saw the tears, and it enraged him. That was the first the time he put me in the hospital.”
Violet looked shocked. Utterly shocked. “Rebecca. I didn’t know. I hate that you lived so far from me. Why did you never tell me this?”
She shrugged. “I was ashamed. Embarrassed. I couldn’t believe that I’d ended up just like my mom, which was something I’d promised myself would never happen. It was bad, but something happened that night. I remember lying in my hospital bed. I’d just sent the police away. Told them I’d tripped over one of Liam’s toys and fallen down the stairs.” She grimaced at the memory. “I told myself that I would never have sex with a man again unless I wanted to. And it didn’t matter if that man was my husband or not. I wouldn’t do it.”
You Make Me Weak (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake Book 1) Page 15