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She smiles at me, and I savor the damn thing. It feels like a perfect summer day. Sun on your face and wind in your hair.
The only sign he’s been there is a different sticky note on the counter. Always in the same place—right by the stove—and always with the same message: a thank you scribbled in his messy handwriting. With a little smiley face in the bottom right corner. It’s a silly thing. Something I wouldn’t usually notice, and I don’t know why it makes me laugh when I’m groggy and sleep-deprived. But it does.
Her smile grows, and there’s an ache in my chest. The spot that’s been fractured for years feels warmer. Brighter. Like a stitch has gone through it. Like I’m being pulled back together.
He’s not just a friend. I don’t know how he’s done it, but in the two months I’ve known him, he’s made himself one of my best friends, and I’m happier because of it.
It’s funny. I’ve been married. I’ve been deeply in love. But I’ve never seen anyone, not even my ex-husband when we were at our happiest, look at someone the way Maverick looks at Emmy. It’s like she’s made of shooting stars and the brightest light in the sky. It’s beautiful, and for one blissful, optimistic moment, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever find something close that. I can’t help but want to find something like that.
I don’t add the other part. The admission that not a single woman has caught my eye, because I’ve been thinking about her lately. Nonstop, really. Wanting to touch her. Wanting to taste her. Wanting to wrap my arms around her and kiss her until she’s dizzy and forgets her name.
“What else have you been thinking about?” “You,” I say. “In every way I shouldn’t want you. In every way I can’t have you.” The one-minute warning comes. Everything narrows down to her, and the careful way she puts a hand on my chest. How her fingers fan out over my shirt and she twists the cotton, pulling me toward her. As if I wouldn’t go willingly. As if I wouldn’t fucking crawl or run or climb a mountain to get there.
Madeline makes me want to be unbelievably bad, and maybe it’s time I deserve to be something other than good.
“Go on, Golden Girl.” “Golden Girl?” “Yeah.” He gestures around the kitchen, not blinking at the catastrophe surrounding us. “You’re the brightest thing in this room. The brightest thing in every room.”
I want him, in any way I can have him, because he’s the epitome of perfection. He’s magic and stardust and everything I’ve ever dreamed about when I let my cynical heart imagine falling for another man somewhere down the road. He makes me believe, and that’s not something I’ve done in a very long time.
Madeline is beautiful when she smiles. She’s beautiful all the time, but seeing her and Lucy laugh through dinner makes my brain do this stupid thing where it pretends there’s a world out there where she likes me as much as I like her. And, fuck, do I like her.
“Anything. Nothing. Whatever you want.” Hudson cups my chin with so much care, I almost melt because of it. “I’m at your mercy.”
“You’re going to be the death of me, Madeline. Please be gentle when you kill me.”
“I’ve been wondering what your tattoo could be for months.” He smiles at the ink on my skin. Draws over each number and the small heart at the end. “Is it Lucy’s birthday?” “How did you know?” “She’s the love of your life. Who else would it be for?”
“God. You’re so pretty. So beautiful.” Madeline laughs. “I’m surprised. I didn’t know if you’d be a guy who liked to—” “Eat pussy?” I finish for her, giving her a wide grin when I see her flushed face. “Why? Because I say please and thank you?” “I thought it might go against your southern hospitality.” She runs her fingers through my hair, and I melt under her touch. “I’m glad it doesn’t.” “What would you say if you found out it’s one of my favorite things in the world?” I grip her thighs and push them open. “What if I told you I’d stay here all night if it meant getting three orgasms out of
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“I love that you’re a good boy with a heart of gold who also wants to be a little bad.”
“Open your eyes, Maddie. I want you to watch when you take me for the first time.”
“God. I’m already so full, Hudson.” “I don’t know if I want to cover your mouth with my hand because what you’re saying is going to make me come faster than I want”—he plucks my nipple between his fingers and twists—“or if I want you to tell me everything you’re feeling.”
I’m so glad. I hope you have fun. We’ll be here when you get back. We miss you. Me Been missing you since the minute I left you, knife girl.
“Sounds like you have someone special in your life. Tell me about her.” I think about the evenings on the couch with Lucy and Madeline. First-grade homework on the coffee table and dolls in the kitchen. Carrying Lucy to bed and eating a cookie with Madeline while we split a glass of milk. How much I laugh and how light I feel. Those little moments don’t sound special by themselves, but in the grand scheme of life, they’re some of my favorite things. What I look forward to on the drive back from the arena, a bright spot after a bad game. “Yeah. I do.”
“You have some strong legs,” I point out. “Maybe I can put them around your head when we get home,”
“I’ll be gentle, and I’ll stop before you gag.” “What if I want to gag? What if I want it to be messy?” “Then make a mess of me, Maddie,”
“Are you an ass man?” I roll onto my stomach and push up on my knees. I rest my elbows on the sheets, my legs spread wide. “Is that your favorite part of me?” “When we’re in bed? Yes. But it doesn’t hold a candle to your smile.” I look over my shoulder and find him sliding the condom over his cock. “This way I get to see the parts of yourself you say you don’t love. The cellulite, the stretch marks. You don’t have to like them, Maddie, but I’m fucking obsessed with them. I’ll worship them for both of us.”
“I might be addicted to you.” Hudson reaches around me and rubs my clit with his thumb. “I think about you all the time. I think about fucking you. About touching you. I can’t get you out of my head, Maddie. Haven’t been able to since I first met you.”
“Hey,” he says. “Hi,” I answer. “You’re so wonderful.” “You’re going to be my undoing.” He hides his face in my neck, the warmth of his skin against mine effervescent. Popped champagne bottles and a million fireworks. “My demise.”
He would be so easy to love, and I’m afraid I might be veering down that road. Racing toward it without any brakes. “What’s
Marriage isn’t the only path for relationships. You don’t need a piece of paper to love her, do you?” “No, but—” “I’m not finished, Hayes. The teacher is still talking,” he says sharply, and I blink. “So there’s no ring and no wedding. Big fucking deal. You can spend decades together and be just as happy as any other couple who did get married. If she’s what you want, the other stuff doesn’t matter. Love is what you make it, dipshit.”
“Listen to me, Madeline. If anyone ever says some shit like that to you again, I want you to come find me so I can give them a piece of my mind, okay? And if any of the players say it? I will have their asses shipped out to Alaska real fucking quick.” Madeline chews on her bottom lip. She wrings her hands together, almost unsteady on her feet. “You mean that, don’t you?” “Of course I mean it. I’d go to war for your daughter. For you, too.” “Why?” she whispers, and I think of a hundred ways I can answer that question. Because I’m attracted to you. Because I’m determined to show you there are
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I’ve never been this reckless or drunk on infatuation. But that’s the thing about Hudson Hayes: he makes me feel alive in ways I’ve never been.
This is exactly how I want to go: blissed out, full, wet, and so close to satisfied.
“You can talk to me, you know. About anything. About your mom. About your games. I want to be a safe space for you, Hudson.” She’s the safest space I’ve ever had. I could strip myself down to my bones and I’d feel nothing but shielded with her.
“Why?” “Why not?”
I could visit a hundred different worlds and I’d never find someone as wonderful and kind as you.”
“You’re so good at treating me right, Hudson.” “Never thought I had a praise kink.” He kisses my throat then my jaw. “Until you started calling me good.” “Yeah?” I give him a gentle stroke over his sweatpants, and he groans. “You know what would make you really good?” “Tell me.” “If you touched yourself while I was gone, but didn’t come. I like when you get worked up.”
He wears his heart on his sleeve, and when he does something, he does it with all that he has. Nothing, not a single action of his, is a half effort. I know his love for me would be the same. I know if we ever got to a point where things were strained, where the love wasn’t mutual and something needed to change, he wouldn’t let it fester into destruction. He wouldn’t walk out without talking with me, without giving every part of himself to what we had. If we went down, we’d go down fighting like hell to stay afloat, and there’s a comfort in that. He’s not Clark. He’s not afraid, he’s not
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She’s drenched, so fucking wet already, and I smirk. “Looks like I’m not the only one who likes when you play with knives.” Depraved thoughts I’ve never dreamed of before race through my head. I wonder what it would be like to fuck her with the handle of one. I wonder what it would look like with her cum all over it, how it would taste when I licked it clean, and smug satisfaction rolls through me.
“I want you to fuck me like I’m yours,” I say, and his face softens. “Like you’re going to stay with me until the end of time. However that looks… that’s what I want.”
“I don’t know what Lucy and I did to deserve finding you, but I’m so glad we did. Thank you for loving her like she’s yours. Thank you for treating us right. Thank you for giving me hope that good things are worth the wait.”
It’s the closest she’s come to an I love you, and it makes me feel like I’m on top of the world. So does her smile, and I swear to all that’s holy I don’t need anything else in life besides her.
“You’re so much more than that. You’re…” The love of my life. My everything. “I know,” I say, and she blinks at me with wide eyes. “Slow. And whenever you’re ready. I’m there, but I’m a patient, patient man, sweetheart.”
“Enough?” He takes the tray from my lap and shoves it on the bedside table. “Sweetheart. You are everything to me. I want you, and I don’t give a shit about anything else.”
“Loving you is easier than anything I’ve ever done. It’s like breathing. Something that comes naturally, because I don’t have to think about it. You’re just… there. Perfect and wonderful and mine. Made for me, I think.” I think he was made for me, too.
“I love you. I think I’ve loved you for months, but I finally let myself accept it, you know? I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.” “You’re right on time, sweetheart.”
