“Yeah?”
When I don’t reply, he pulls back, searching my face for answers. “Is this okay?”
I nod, unable to get the words out.
“Are you sure?”
“P-positive,” I all but whisper.
My hands feel like they have a mind of their own as the come up to grip Hudson’s sides, bringing his body into mine until there’s not an inch of space left.
“So, where do we go from here?” he asks.
I pop my shoulders. “Wherever we want, I suppose.”
Hudson tilts his head to one side, never once taking his eyes from mine. “And if I want to kiss you? Would you let me?”
I don’t even have to think about it; things between us aren’t perfect, far from it, but I don’t care for perfect. I never have. I care for real and raw, uncomfortable, and unfiltered. I care for whatever speaks to my heart and Hudson…
Hudson speaks directly to my heart.
In more ways than one.
A single nod of my head is all the confirmation Hudson needs.
He surges forward, hands tracing upwards, along the curves of my body, although I don’t think he can feel much with my coat and jumper in the way, stopping only when he can cup my jaw with his palms.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he mutters against my cupid’s bow before gently pressing his lips to mine.
They’re chapped from the cold, but I don’t care.
I kiss him back, my lips moulding to his, palming the back of his neck to keep him exactly where I need him the most.
Parting my lips on a whimper, I trace the tip of my tongue along the seam of Hudson’s mouth, sliding my tongue against his when he grants me entry.
Kissing Hudson is like slipping into a warm bath. It’s familiar and soothing, coating my skin, wiping my mind clean of everything except this moment.
He allows me to take as much of him as I feel ready to, without pushing. But when I wrap my left leg around his waist, urging him to pick me up, he groans his own approval into my mouth, wrapping both hands around my upper thighs and lifting me with ease.
I pull back for a breather, lungs tight and constricted, my head heady with the lack of oxygen and the feel good hormones running themselves ragged through my nervous system.
Hudson’s kiss bitten lips curl upwards into a boyish grin, imprinting themselves against one cheek and then the other, the tip of my nose – which is probably bright red from the cold outside – and the centre of my forehead.
I thread back his fringe with my fingertips, gliding my palm down the side of his face, past his pulse ramming against the side of his neck and down his sternum until I can slip my hand beneath the zipper of his coat and flatten my palm to the t-shirt and flesh below protecting his heart.
Lids drooping to half mast, Hudson holds me against the wall with only his right hand, placing his much larger left hand atop of mine. “I hope you know I wasn’t expecting this tonight, Gee. We don’t have to rush anything.”
I bob my head. “I know. I—”
The loud sound of Hudson’s phone ringing cuts me off.
“Sorry.” Ducking his head slightly sheepishly, which is so unlike him, Hudson wiggles his mobile from out of his coat pocket whilst I slither down his body, flattening my feet until I can touch the floor.
His eyes scan the contact ID flashing upon the pixilated screen, an unknown number by the looks of it, before he flicks his gaze to mine. “I need to take this.”
Nodding, I tip my head towards the door of my apartment. “I’ll be inside.”
Leaving him to his own devices, I slip into my kitchen, vehemently trying to ignore the dulcet tones of Hudson’s voice seeping through from the hallway.
