The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You(61)
I stopped worrying about being exposed and spoke from the gut. “Then I’ll try not to fixate on what it means that I’m different for you. That will be progress for me.”
He nodded, the weight of my words sinking in. “Do you know why you do it?”
“Why I become obsessive about guys?”
“Yeah.”
“My counselors have said it’s probably about not feeling loved as a child. Aggravated by the early death of my parents. So I’m constantly seeking affection and doubting it when I receive it because I don’t know what it really feels like.”
“How did you get over that?”
It wasn’t at all what I thought he’d ask, and I sensed he was asking as much for himself as he was about me. I’d gotten this far into the depths of candidness, might as well dive right in. “I haven’t. It’s a constant battle. Lots of self-affirmation. Lots of silly little tricks, like wearing elastic bands to remind me.”
He nodded, understanding about my elastic band settling in. “You still fall into old habits.”
“Yes.”
“With me?”
“You know the answer to that.” My voice came out a whisper. I wanted to look away, but our eyes were locked and in the softness of his gaze I found the courage to tell more. “I didn’t believe you were away on business. I thought you didn’t want to see me. That’s why I came by your building.”
His face fell, as though my honesty crushed him. He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, they were dark and intense. He reached his hand out to cup my nape, insuring that my face was fixed on his. “Alayna, I will never lie to you.” His voice was gruff. “Not when we’re off-duty. I will always tell you the truth. I swear it.”
His grip loosened, and his thumb stroked across my bare cheek. “Do you understand?”
I nodded and covered his hand with mine. “Hudson, this,” I choked, my throat tight with emotion. “This was my favorite part.”
For a split second I worried I’d scared him with my intensity, that he’d pull away. But he didn’t. Instead he put his hand on my ass and pulled me closer. He stroked down my thigh, urging it forward to rest around his waist. Then he slid inside me, my * already wet from earlier orgasms. He was slow and steady with his pace, less rough than he often tended to be, his usual sex talk absent. But, because of the things we’d shared, his measured thrusts felt raw, more intent on connecting than on gratifying.
Climax came quickly for both of us, mine crashing through me in waves that tightened my belly and curled my toes and caused fireworks to cross my vision, his spurting hot and prolonged as he groaned my name. His eyes never left mine, though they narrowed as he came, and it deepened the intimacy. I knew he’d told the truth, I trusted him. In his words, in his actions, I felt fixed. I’d fallen into something that had nothing to do with love. Into healing.
And it was love too. If I could stand to admit it to myself, love was exactly what it was.
Chapter Seventeen
Streams of sunlight poured through the windows, warming and waking me up earlier than I would have on my usual sleep schedule. Before looking, I sensed I was alone. When I turned, I squinted at the clock on the nightstand next to where Hudson should have been sleeping. Nine twenty-seven.
I blinked several times, adjusting my eyes, while I considered whether I wanted to get up and search for my lover or roll over and go back to sleep. I still hadn’t made a decision when the doors opened to the bedroom and Hudson appeared wearing nothing but black silk pajama bottoms and carrying a breakfast tray.
“Good, you’re awake,” he said as I sat up, the smell of coffee luring me further out of sleep. “I’m showing my family what an awesome boyfriend I am by bringing you breakfast in bed. Omelets. Sans mushrooms, of course. No cherry-flavored blow pops.” He winked as he set the tray on the table in the sitting area.
“This is one of those inappropriate moments for a blow pop anyway. And you should have said amazingly awesome boyfriend. Breakfast in bed is the best.” Though the thing making my mouth water was the never tiresome sight of Hudson barefoot and shirtless.
“I’m not that awesome.” He left the tray and untied the string of his PJs, letting them fall to the ground, exposing his beautifully erect penis. He slid under the covers and climbed over me. “I’m going to make you eat it cold.”
Before his kiss prevented me from speech or thought I mumbled, “Cold breakfast sounds perfect.”
***
It was almost noon before we were ready to dress for the day. Hudson had offered to draw me a bath to soak my sex sore limbs, but I opted for a shared shower, wanting to extend our intimacy as long as possible before we were on-duty again.
After we’d dried and dressed—Hudson in khaki pants and polo, me in a cream sundress—he left me to take our dirty dishes down while I finished primping. I chose to sweep my hair into a ponytail, an easy and quick option, so I could follow him shortly, though the idea of hiding out in the bedroom as long as I could, had crossed my mind. Truth was, as much as I didn’t want to face Sophia, I wanted to be with Hudson more.
Not knowing my way around the house yet, I headed first to the kitchen, hopeful that he’d still be there. I paused outside the swinging kitchen door when I heard voices—Hudson’s and Sophia’s.