Found in You(72)

“Nothing. An old friend.”

“Bullshit.” My voice cracked, but, so far, the tears were staying in my eyes. “Otherwise you would have told me about this dinner from the beginning. You were hiding it from me.” I pointed a shaky finger at him. “Because you knew she would be here too.”

“I didn’t know.” His lids closed in a long blink as he took a breath. “I suspected,” he conceded. “But she’s not here because of me. Her mother is my mother’s best friend. You know that.”

“Fuck that. She’s twenty-eight years old. She’s old enough to not go to every goddamn function with her mother. She’s here for you.”

“And I’m here with you.” His tone was solid, unwavering. Such a contrast to mine.

“She’s still in love with you.”

“And I’m with you.”

He closed the gap between us, and I secretly sighed in relief, placing my palms against the wall for support. He braced his arms on either side of me, caging me in. “I’m with you.”

My fingers curled inward, trying to hold onto something. Having no success against the cement, they flew forward and gripped onto his jacket instead.

He took that as an invitation to move closer. Or he just moved closer, not caring if he was invited or not. He pressed his body against mine, and I couldn’t help but press back into him, soaking in his warmth. I’d feared my words would scare him off, and even though my doubts hadn’t yet been stilled, he hadn’t gone anywhere. He was there.

There and wanting.

His erection pressed against my belly.

My eyes flew to his, surprised. He was turned on? How did…why was…did my doubts do that? Did my messed up anxiety make him want me more?

“I’m hard for you and only you.” He spoke low, his words gritty with desire. “It’s you that I adore.” He lowered his mouth to kiss along my neck, and I let my head fall to the side, granting him access. I moaned as his lips met my skin.

Then, with simply his touch, I relaxed, melting into him. This was all I needed—his mouth on me, his body against me. Who cared about the why? I only cared that he was there.

I threw my arms around his neck, and his mouth crushed into mine, hard. His tongue plunged inside, stroking and caressing—I went wet wanting him inside me in the same way.

He pulled my lower lip between his teeth then let it go. “I’m with you,” he said again as his hands gathered the material of my dress up around my waist, tucking it in to the band of my underwear. And again, as his fingers slipped inside my panties.

His fingers circled against my nub, and I bucked forward with a moan.

“That’s it.” He continued his expert caressing, kissing me and encouraging me. “Relax. Let me be with you.”

I whimpered as fingers slid along the length of my slit and found the center of my heat. But instead of entering me as I so desired—so needed—Hudson dropped to his knees and pulled my panties down to my ankles.


Before I could protest the loss of his hands on my core, he licked along the lips of my vagina. “It’s you that I’m about to go down on.” He spoke between long strokes with his tongue. “It’s you I’m going to make come with my mouth so that when we go back down there and you start to feel insecure, you will still be wet and you’ll remember my lips were on you and no one else.”

I was about to come from his words alone, so turned on by his possessiveness, by his demand for me to know that I was his.

He lifted one foot out of my panties and threw my leg over his shoulder. Then he returned full force, sucking my clit into his mouth. His fingers jabbed into my hole—I have no idea how many he used—but he bent them and stroked me until I was writhing. I clutched my hands into his hair for support as my orgasm exploded through me, rocking me against his hand, against his mouth.