Immense relief flows through me. I know she and Hud have this whole farce of a relationship going, but she’s not sleeping next to my man every night.
My man.
I like that.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hadley squeals, bouncing up and down.
“Alright,” Hudson calls out, stepping in like the unofficial house leader. “Let’s all take an hour to decompress. Nap, explore the house, whatever. We’ll hit the lake after that.”
Everyone agrees, snatching up their bags and peeling off to their rooms. I trail Hudson down the hall until he stops in front of a door and presses a button, a softdingringing out.
“Please tell me that’s not an elevator.”
He smirks, slides open a pocket door, and reveals just that. “My grandparents are in their seventies,” he tells me.“Mobility’s not what it used to be. They had it installed a few years ago.”
We step into the two-person elevator, and Hudson presses the button for the third floor. After sliding the pocket door closed, the elevator lurches and begins its slow ascent.
We step out into the loft, where the three guys stuck with air mattresses are mid-setup.
“There’s an elevator?” Matt stares at us where we’ve just materialized.
“No, we levitated,” Hudson deadpans.
Matt’s cheeks pink, slightly embarrassed, then flips him off, both of them cracking up.
“This way.” Hudson gestures his head down the hall. He points out a small home gym, an office, and a full bath, before we stop in front of a heavy wooden door. Hudson nudges it with his foot and steps inside.
“How’d you know this was the room Ella picked?” I ask.
“She wanted the King bed. This is the only one.”
“And aside from the three tagalongs back there, no one else is on this floor?” I ask, hopeful.
He gives me a nod, that smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I glance at the door, see the lock, and flip it with a satisfyingsnick.
“What should we do with our hour of mandatory chill time, oh mighty house king?” I ask, stepping up to him and hooking two fingers into the waistband of his shorts, tugging him closer.
“I can think of a few things,” he breathes, fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt, grazing the skin above my waistband.
I yank the shirt over my head and smash my mouth to his. He gasps and stumbles back until the backs of his legs hit the mattress, then drops down, pulling me with him.
I break the kiss just long enough to ask, “What do you want, Hud?”
“I want to touch you.”
I scoot back until I’m leaning against the rustic tree-branch headboard and hold my arms out to my sides. “Then come touch me.”
Hudson scrambles upright and straddles my hips, kissing me with a new kind of hunger. His hands move leisurely down my body like he’s trying to memorize every inch of my chest, ribs, abs, and hips. He explores me with this perfect mix of reverence and heat, and I swear I’m burning beneath his fingertips.
When his fingers drift to the waistband of my shorts, he pauses, a silent question in his eyes. I whisper ayesagainst his lips, not wanting to pull away for even a second.
He slides his fingers inside and pushes my shorts down, taking my boxers with them. My cock jumps free, already aching and leaking with anticipation.
You’d think I would be nervous, but I'm not. Because it’s Hudson. And Hudson has always meant safety. He’s always meant comfort.
He pulls away from our kiss to glance down at me. “Shit.”
I can feel the nerves radiating off him, so I take his trembling hands in mine and rub slow, soothing circles over his knuckles.
