I should be helping him search for Tyler, not distracting him with whatever the hell that was.
I have never in my life been hand-fed by a man, and Hudson is not just any man. He’s sculpted out of muscles, his eyes make me forget where I am, and he freaking just hand fed me bacon. He’s not a mere mortal; he’s been sent by the gods to distract me and make me do outrageous things, like suck his finger in the kitchen of the cabin where we’re meant to be hiding.
A smile tugs at my lips at the memory of a few moments ago. He was not expecting me to suck the grease off his finger, and I love surprising Hudson. It’s my new favorite hobby.
I don’t know what came over me, but I sure as hell liked the reaction. To bring a man like Hudson to his knees with just hisfinger in my mouth. Imagine what I could do to him if I had something else in my mouth.
Down on my knees, with his generous package before me…
The water suddenly feels too hot, and I pull the thoroughly scrubbed pan out of the water and rinse it off before laying it on the rack.
I pull the plug and wipe the perspiration off my forehead as the water gurgles down the drain.
Hudson has retreated to the table under the loft with his laptop out. I long to ask him if there’s any news, but I need to cool off first.
“I need some air.”
I fling the door open, but the fresh air does nothing to cool the fire inside me.
I reach for my jacket, and Hudson is there. His broad chest takes up all the space in the small area by the door, making my heartbeat speed up a notch.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you.” He takes his jacket off the hook as if we’re heading out for a winter stroll.
“You don’t even know where I’m going.”
He shrugs his jacket on. “Doesn’t matter. You can’t wander around on your own. It might not be safe.”
He’s taking this protection thing way too seriously. I’m pretty sure there’s no way for the Street Kings to trace us here, but it makes me hesitate.
If he’s strolling around with me, then he’s not looking for Tyler. I slip my jacket off.
“It’s all good. I’ll stay inside.”
“Make up your damn mind, woman.” He pushes his fingers into his forehead as if I give him a headache, and I hope I do. I want to affect him in every way possible.
As he shrugs off his coat, I wander to the shelf behind the couch, eyeing the stack of books and board games and running my finger along the titles.
Nothing grabs my attention, and I try the next shelf.
“I got you something.” Hudson holds one of the bags from the grocery store in his hands. He thrusts is toward me, and for the first time, he seems awkward.
“What is it?” I take the bag and pull out a long rectangular item. “You got me a sketchpad.”
“And crayons,” he mumbles. “They didn’t have any paints. And they’re kind of for kids, but I thought you might like them.”
I pull out the box of crayons, which is decorated with a cartoon elephant. Flipping the lip of the box open, I find twelve bright crayons and the scent of wax.
It’s the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me, and a rush of heat floods my eyes. I blink quickly, not wanting him to see how his gift affects me.
Since Mom passed and Dad ended up in jail, no one has bought me anything. Tyler stole flowers for my birthday once, picked from the best gardens in the neighborhood. But it’s been years since anyone gave me anything but the stolen flowers.
I pull out a deep blue, and my fingers itch to get drawing.
“Thank you.”
When I glance up, he’s watching me closely, and his stormy eyes have settled to a calm, steady gray.
