“Becca. I don’t know what to say.” Violet frowned. “But you stayed with him for two more years.”
She slowly nodded. “I did. And every time he tried to have sex, I refused him. He got so angry, and I ended up with a lot of bruises. I don’t know why I didn’t leave then, but it was like I was stuck. Like I was waiting for something to happen. Something to make me act. When he hit me in front of Liam, that’s when I finally got my shit together and came back here. I knew Liam was next.”
At first, neither one of the girls spoke, and then Violet leaned forward and hugged Rebecca so tight, she could barely breathe. “I love you,” Violet whispered in her ear.
“I know.”
Rebecca pulled away and offered a small smile. “It feels good to talk about it. To finally say the words that have been trapped inside me for years. To finally acknowledge that I’m a grown-ass woman with needs, and right now, I need to feel wanted. Desired.” She looked up at the ceiling. “I’d forgotten how good sex with Hudson is. Forgotten what it felt like to feel sexy, and I…”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel that, Becs. Nothing wrong with a woman taking what she needs, but Jesus, Hudson Blackwell? He nearly killed you before. You didn’t leave your room for days and days after he left.”
“I know. But that was twelve years ago. Things are different this time. We’re different.”
“How so? Aren’t you afraid of getting in too deep with him? Aren’t you afraid he’ll hurt you again?”
“No.” Rebecca sat up straight. “This thing that we’re doing is just about sex. That’s it.”
“This thing you’re doing?” Violet looked as if she was going to explode. “So this is an ongoing thing? You’re not just pals anymore?”
“We’ve decided to skip the friend part and just concentrate on the benefits thing.”
Violet opened her mouth and then clamped it shut. She paused. “You’re driving, right?”
Rebecca nodded.
“Good.” She ordered a third gin and tonic, and when Tiny brought it to her, she took a big gulp and then slammed the glass down on the bar.
“I hope you know what you’re doing. I mean, if it’s just about sex, Ethan Burke would be all over that.”
“Ethan Burke is going to be my boss one day. So, that’s not happening.”
“Okay,” she said, eyeing Rebecca warily. “If you say so. But please, Becs, please promise me you won’t let yourself fall in love with him again.”
“What?” Rebecca made a face. “Never.”
Violet didn’t look like she believed Rebecca.
“I’m serious.” Rebecca lifted her chin defiantly. “This is strictly about sex. Nothing more. Hudson broke my heart once. I’m not letting him anywhere near it again.”
Violet remained silent for a few seconds and then, with a shrug, scooped up her nearly empty glass. “Okay.” She lifted it into the air, motioning toward Rebecca’s water.
“It’s empty.”
“Doesn’t matter. Pick it up.”
Rebecca held up the glass and eyed her girlfriend warily.
Violet winked. “To you and Hudson and sex. May you have many orgasms and zero complications.”
Chapter 23
Hudson wasn’t a man to keep idle hands, especially when he had something on his mind. And man, did he ever have something on his mind. Among other things such as the ever-changing state of his father’s health, there was a certain five-foot-six-inch blonde who currently had him by the balls.
It was Friday, end of the week and nearly the end of October. The relatively warm fall had given way to a cold, nasty wind from the north. The rain had stopped—thank God—though the immediate forecast called for three inches of snow. Most of the folks in town had already hauled out their winter tires, bought up bags of salt, and the local hardware store was sold out of snow blowers. It had been a while, but he had memories of trick-or-treating in his snowsuit and boots and mittens. Nothing like trying to pull Superman tights over thick winter gear.
He’d spent the morning in meetings with Sam Waters and then had lunch with his father at the hospital. John Blackwell was something of an anomaly to his doctors and staff. A month before, he’d been on his deathbed. But now? Now he was eating, had even gained some weight, and a week earlier had been declared strong enough for the surgery needed to unblock his arteries. The surgery had been a success. He was still confined to Grandview, at least for the time being, but his doctors were impressed.
Hudson’s cell phone pinged, and he scooped it out of his jacket pocket while crossing the street to where he’d parked his truck. It was nearly four, and he’d agreed to meet Nash out at his place on the lake. Something about a fridge and stove that needed to be moved. He glanced down at the number and, with a frown, picked up while he climbed into his rig.
“Blackwell?” The Bluetooth kicked in, and Charlie Woodard’s voice sounded in his truck, a mix of Southern drawl and raw edge. FBI, the two men had worked together on a few projects in the past, but Hudson hadn’t heard from the man since the previous winter when they’d taken down a terrorist cell in the heart of their capital.
“What’s up?” Hudson eased his truck into traffic and headed across the bridge. He couldn’t see Rebecca’s place from here, but that didn’t stop him from craning his neck to have a look as he sped by.
“Just checking in. Wondering when you’re coming back. No one here seems to know shit.”
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I’m on indefinite leave. Family thing.”
“You got an expiration date for that?”
“Not yet.” Hudson turned right and headed up River Road. “What’s this about, Woodard?” Outside of work, he and Charlie weren’t tight, so that meant the reason for the call was FBI related.
“Dartmouth is active again.”
Hudson pulled over, ignoring the loud honk from the car behind him. “You sure about that?” he asked harshly.
“Last night, we picked up chatter on the West Coast. We’re still verifying, but so far, the intel looks good.” There was a long pause as that information sank in. “I thought you’d want to know.”
Hudson’s jaw ached because his teeth were clenched so tight, and he cursed again, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. Dartmouth was the bastard that got away. It was the second case he’d worked on and the only one he hadn’t been able to close. There’d been a time when Dartmouth had consumed him. A time when he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing the faces of his victims. The case still haunted him, but he’d learned to move on.
“You still there?” Woodard’s voice jerked him back to reality.
“Yeah.” A snowflake drifted on the breeze and landed on his windshield. It glistened in the late afternoon sun and then slowly melted. Hudson cleared his throat and, after checking the road, headed back along the river. “Let me know when that intel pans out. If Dartmouth is planning something else, I want in.”
“Okay.” Woodard sounded pleased. “I’ll be in touch.”
By the time Hudson reached Nash’s place, he was in a foul mood. He parked his truck and sat in it, eyes on the lake and the dark water. Small whitecaps dotted the surface, moving quickly toward shore from the force of the wind. And in the distance, the once-vibrant shades of fall had given way to bare trees and a dull palette of gray and brown. There was something almost desperate about the scene, and yet it was one that had always invigorated Hudson.
Until now.
He scowled and hopped out of his truck, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the screen door on the porch. He spied an old fridge and stove shoved up against the wall and walked into the house, but Nash wasn’t inside. A quick look around told him the new appliances had already come and were in place, and he headed back outside, this time toward the boathouse.
He found Nash inside, cursing up a storm as he fiddled with some wiring, and when his friend glanced up, he could tell he was frustrated.
“Damn ou
tlets aren’t working,” Nash grumbled. “But hell if I can tell what the issue is.”
“I can’t help you there.”
“No shit.” With another curse, Nash tossed a pair of pliers onto the floor and got up. “You’re late.”
“I got held up in a meeting with Waters. Sorry.” Hudson nodded toward the house. “I see you got the appliances out of the house.”
“I managed.” Nash grimaced. “Might have pulled one or two muscles, but I got it done. Thanks for driving out, though. You want a beer?”
“Nah. I’m good. I'm supposed to meet up with Rebecca in an hour.”
Nash moved past Hudson and grabbed himself a cold one from the fridge. “You and her are still…hanging out?”
“Yeah.” His answer was gruff, and Nash gave him a curious look.
“You not liking the arrangement?”
He’d told Nash everything. How Rebecca had practically attacked him a few weeks back. And not that he was complaining or anything, the sex had been red-hot. Hell, it had been off the charts most every night since; it was just that he was starting to get pissed off at their arrangement. Something about the “benefits” thing was rubbing him the wrong way. He just wasn’t sure what that something was.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “I’m just tired, I guess. I’ve got a lot going on.”
“I heard you and Mackenzie are partnering on a new development in town.”
That surprised Hudson. Nothing had been announced, and he hadn’t said a word. Nash must have noticed the expression on his face, because he shrugged. “Nancy Davis.”
Ah. Enough said. The woman worked for the county and had looked after the permits for him. Apparently, she had a knack for talking about her work.
“The permits should be approved, and then we can move forward.”
“That’s a good thing, Huds. Let me know how I can help out.”
Hudson nodded. “Okay. I appreciate it.” He sighed. “So, we’re good? You don’t need me for anything else?”
“We’re good. There were three guys delivering the new appliances. I got them to help me move the old ones out. They’re coming back tomorrow to take them off my hands.” A sly grin touched Nash’s face. “What do you and Becca have planned tonight?”
“Hell if I know. She just told me to be come over for five. Said Liam had hockey practice after school and then would be at Cub Scouts until eight.”
Nash gave a low whistle. “Shit. That gives you three hours, and we both know you only need fifteen minutes.”
Hudson didn’t respond. His mind was on other things. Dartmouth. His father. Rebecca. The development. Dart-fucking-mouth.
“Hey.” Nash slapped him on the shoulder. “You look like that, and I can pretty much guarantee you, Rebecca will slam the door in your face. Fifteen minutes won’t matter at that point.
“Seriously.” Nash’s eyebrows rose. “Are you okay?”
Hudson rolled his shoulders and gazed out at the water. “You ever feel like you’re just a piece of driftwood? Like you have no control over where the tide will take you? No control over where you’ll end up or how you’ll even get there.”
“Every damn day, brother.” No longer were Nash’s eyes laughing. They were dead serious. “That’s the thing about life. There are no guarantees. You’ve got to fight for what you want and then fight not to lose it. The hard part is figuring out what it is you’re fighting for.”
“You might be onto something.” Hudson slapped his buddy on the shoulder. “I should get going.”
“Okay.” Nash stepped back. “Let me know.”
Hudson was at the door and paused. “Let you know what?”
“Let me know when you figure that shit out.”
Hudson headed back up the steps and climbed into his truck. He checked his phone and saw that it was nearly five. With a quick turn of the key, his truck roared to life and he headed back to Crystal Lake. Back to Rebecca. And his allotted three hours.
By the time he reached her place, dusk was falling, brought on early by the heavy clouds in the sky and the endless wind that buffeted the town. Her car was parked in its usual spot, and soft light fell from the windows. Rebecca hadn’t bothered to install blinds in the front room and he could see she’d spent a night painting the walls. It looked good. She’d become one hell of an independent woman.
She’d become the woman he knew she would. Hudson slid from his truck and took the stairs two at a time. He didn’t bother to knock. He reached for the doorknob, but before he could grab hold of it, the door opened.
And his brain pretty much exploded.
“Jesus, Rebecca.”
Her hair was loose, slightly damp from the shower. It rippled over her shoulders in waves. Makeup free, with bright eyes and a soft mouth, she looked hardly a day over the eighteen-year-old from his past. Though her body had changed. She had more curves, more everything, and she’d grown into one hell of a woman.
She stood not more than two inches from him, naked as the day she was born.
He didn’t think. He reacted.
Hudson took that last step and buried his hands in her hair, taking the mouth that was offered to him. He held her so that she couldn’t move. So that every delicious naked inch of her was pressed against him. His tongue dove in, and he ravaged her mouth while moving her back so that he could close the door behind him.
He didn’t break contact, because he needed to feel her. To touch and taste her. Hudson breathed her in, her scent inflaming his cells, infusing them with a need older than time. As his hands found their way down her body to settle at her butt, he had to take a moment.
“Hold on,” he managed to say. “Or this might be over before we get started.”
“No can do,” she said, wiggling from his grasp, a sexy-as-sin grin on her face. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”
“Becca.” He barely managed to get her name out before she dropped to her knees and went for his zipper. “Jesus.”
Within seconds, his cock sprang free, and with one last glance up at him, she opened wide. The feel of her hot, wet mouth on him made his head spin, and he slammed back onto the door, spreading his legs and giving her as much access as she needed.
“Hello,” she murmured, grabbing his balls with one hand while holding firm to his cock with the other. She licked the tip and slowly slid the entire length of him into her mouth, not stopping until he felt the back of her throat.
“Becca,” he said hoarsely.
But she wouldn’t listen. She began to move her head and used her hands, her mouth, and her tongue to drive him crazy. His balls were tight, and he wouldn’t last long. And if he died tomorrow, the sight of her naked, vulnerable, on her knees in front of him, was a picture he’d gladly take to his grave.
Hudson broke out in a sweat, and his fingers wove their way through her thick waves of hair. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing, but it was no use. Five minutes in and he was almost done.
With teeth clenched, he looked down at her again. His gut was tight, his balls even tighter. And that exquisite pressure began to build. He tried to tug her away even as his hips began to thrust, but she shook her head.
“Babe, I’m gonna come.” His voice sounded hoarse, and he knew he was nearly there.
She made that sound—the one that drove him crazy and their eyes locked.
Fuck. Me.
She suckled him, kneaded his balls, and worked him over until he couldn’t help himself. As his orgasm ripped through his body, Hudson couldn’t take his eyes off Rebecca. Those lips. That face.
His angel.
He came, and with a loud groan, he watched from beneath half-lidded eyes as she took everything he had. As she milked him and rocked back on her heels to smile up at him. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.
A slow wicked smile crept over Hudson’s face. They were just getting started.
Chapter 24
Early on in her m
arriage, oral sex had become “that thing you did when you dated.” So much so, that it became a bone of contention between her and David. The last time she’d gone down on him had been for one of his birthdays, a few years after Liam had come along.
She wasn’t exactly sure why it had become something she loathed doing. Maybe it was because to Rebecca, oral sex was somehow more intimate than intercourse. It was all about trust and giving, rather than receiving. For whatever reason, it had become a nonexistent part of her sex life, before the sex life had become nonexistent.
She’d forgotten how exhilarating it could be. How sexy and fulfilling…to give rather than to receive.
Hudson’s eyes were as dark as midnight, and they regarded her closely as she slowly got to her feet. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she licked her lips, enjoying the taste of him.
“Come here,” Hudson said, his rough voice hitting all kinds of targets inside her. Targets that zigged and zagged, creating balls of heat that rapidly spread from the top of her head to her toes.
Breathlessly, she inched closer and groaned when his lips hit the side of her neck. “You’re so damn hot,” Hudson growled, trailing his mouth down to where her pulse beat like a frenetic drummer. He kissed her there, his tongue sweeping across the area, until his teeth nipped at her.
He pulled her closer, his mouth latching on, and she threw her head back, grinding her hips into his upper thigh. The ache between her legs was hot and intense, and it throbbed. She might have whimpered, or maybe groaned, but whatever sound she made had Hudson drawing back. He looked savage. Primal. So damn male that her knees went weak.
He reached for his jacket and tossed it aside before moving her down the hall and into the converted family room.
“Bend over the sofa.”
You Make Me Weak (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake Book 1) Page 16