An hour later, I’d finished all the necessary paperwork on the case at my office, and skimmed the details of my next. I’d meet with a new mother on Monday. It was so late for a Friday workday that Grace had already long gone. She’d picked up both our girls and was probably enduring a squeal-fest at the sleepover. Lord be with that woman. Sleepovers were fun but exhausting, and usually you somehow had a headache at the end of them and you didn’t know why or where it came from, just that it was strong enough to make you reach for a bottle of painkillers or wine.
Shutting down my system, I clicked to my car, anxious to unwind after the emotional day. One glance at my phone had all my plans involving a book and bubble bath evaporating.
Hudson: Sleepover night. That means you sleep here, right?
Heat flared through my body, twisting and coiling tight. Hudson had told me he loved me. He’d wanted to protect me and Elliott not out of some forced obligation, but because he loved me.
And it had shocked me so much I’d pounced on him instead of telling him the truth.
That I loved him.
Had loved him for longer than I realized.
And I felt beyond unworthy.
Felt like loving me came with costs that weren’t worth what I gave in return.
He deserved to know that…
Me: You sure you want to have a sleepover?
Hudson: Of course.
Me: Should I stop by my house and grab my PJs?
Hudson: PJs are entirely optional. You know I have plenty of things for you here.
A gasp slipped through the smile I couldn’t suppress.
Me: On my way!
I pulled up Elliott’s tracker app, checking it out of habit—I trusted Grace completely, but with Todd showing up at Elliott’s game…I couldn’t stop checking it. Even with the security details.
Satisfied to see she was settled at Grace’s house, I started the car and drove toward Hudson’s.
Anxious butterflies flapped in my stomach despite the fact that we’d been official for a while now.
I needed to give him the last pieces of me—no matter how gritty they were.
The elevator doors had barely parted before Hudson yanked me inside, crushing me to his chest, his lips slanting over mine. He stole my breath, the sheer size of the man, the utter gentleness in the way he held me to him, the way his tongue danced over mine.
“Wow,” I said between his lips.
“Missed you,” he practically growled while he continued his delicious exploration of my mouth.
Tingles shot over my skin from the power in his kiss, making my head spin slightly.
“I missed you, too,” I admitted as he drew back an inch to look down at me.
A soft, nearly imperceptible smile shaped those lips as he rubbed his hands over my arms. “How’d it go?” he asked, taking a step away from me but holding my hand. Like he knew we needed the distance to have a normal conversation. Like he knew how badly I wanted him already, how badly I’d come to crave him against me.
“Good,” I said, breathless as he tugged me toward the massive marble kitchen island.
I sat on one of the stools at the island, adjusting my glasses while he went around it. “Wine?” he asked, holding up a bottle of my favorite brand.
I grinned at him. “How’d you know?”
He shrugged, filling two stemless glasses halfway. “Big case,” he said, sliding one toward me and then taking the seat right next to me. “One that you were…emotionally invested in.”
I sipped the red, letting the slight spice in the liquid slid down my throat and warm my insides. Uncoil those muscles that had been bunched all day. “You could tell?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You’re not that hard to read if you know where to look.”
“Is that so?” I asked, both impressed and a bit unnerved. What if he could tell how badly I felt about the other night? How I didn’t know how to form the words to explain how much he meant to me…
He smoothed a thumb over my lips, his brow furrowed. “Like right now,” he said, confusion coating his blue eyes. “You’re scared.” He swallowed hard. “Did something happen on the case again? I thought they locked the guy up. Or did he show up—”
“No,” I said, blinking several times, trying to control the emotions he could read too clearly.
God, no one had ever so easily penetrated my walls, so easily seen through the defenses I’d kept in place for a decade. When people only saw strength and will, they never looked too closely. And I couldn’t afford to have anyone see my internal scars because I would never let anyone second guess my ability to take care of Elliott. Though, it had been years and I’d more than proven my capabilities, but when she was a baby, and I was still technically a minor, I’d lived with the fear of someone like who I was now ripping her from my arms.
“They did,” I finally said. “Catch him. A couple of nights after he hit me. He had warrants for his arrest that were a mile long. He’ll be inside for a long while.”
Hudson dropped his fingers from my lips and took a gulp of his wine. “What are you scared of then?” His tone was low and sharp like steel. “Is it Elliott? Do we need to listen to her tracker?”
I chuckled softly. “If you thought I was scared for Elliott do you think I’d be sitting here sipping wine with the sexiest Shark in the world?”
The tension in his shoulders loosened a bit before his head dropped slightly.
“I’m running out of options here, Shea.” Fear coated those blue eyes. “It’s me,” he said. “Isn’t it? Did I hurt you the last time?” Panic colored his features. “Because it seemed like you liked—”
“Oh my God, Hudson, stop,” I said, my hand on his muscled thigh. “I promise, I’m not afraid of you. And I know you’d be the last person to hurt me.”
Physically.
That’s the word I didn’t say. Because emotionally? He had the power to crush me.
I’d let him in.
I’d come to depend on him and crave him and love him.
And that was enough to destroy me if he decided to leave…
“This,” I continued, moving my hand to the center of my chest. “What you’re seeing? It’s all me. Seriously. You don’t need to worry about it.”
He narrowed his gaze at me. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone was afraid of me,” he said, still not comprehending. There was genuine worry and pain like the silent chaos inside him had driven people away before. I could see how it might be possible for those who didn’t take the time to get to know him, or his opponents, but me?
“You don’t scare me,” I said, setting my wine down and standing up.
I traced my fingertips over the scar that dissected his eyebrow before planting a light kiss on top of it. Then I reached for the hem o
f his shirt and sighed when he allowed me to tug it over his head. Again, I ran my fingers over his smooth skin, the muscles beneath tensing. I bypassed the whorls of ink decorating him and found a scar by his ribs. I knelt to kiss it, then moved on the next, and the next.
So many scars.
From childhood.
From his time on the ice.
From his time fighting because he’d always had someone to protect.
Again and again, I kissed and flicked my tongue over the long-healed puckered flesh, until I’d made it back up to his lips.
Gently, softly, I kissed him, poured all the love I felt into that kiss before drawing back. I reached for his hand, his breaths ragged as I did, and placed it on my heart.
“You don’t scare me,” I said again. “Not your size or your anger or the scars you have.” I pressed his hand harder against my chest. “I’ve got as many scars as you,” I said. “You just can’t see all of them.”
A shuddering breath flew from his lips, the longing in his eyes churning. “I see them,” he whispered. “I see all of you, Shea.”
Somehow, those were the most intimate words anyone had ever said to me.
And he loved me despite seeing all of me.
I ran my fingers through his hair, lightly scraping his scalp, the emotion building in me so much I thought I’d burst.
“I am scared,” I said, my voice breathless as I trailed my hands past his cut abdomen, and lower, until I’d reached the band of the athletic pants he wore. I tugged on the band, and he stood, his muscles flexing with each movement as I slid them down.
His hands were gentle in my hair, his head slightly tilted, waiting for me to finish my thought, as I slowly dropped to my knees.
My warm breath coated the sleek fabric of his black boxer-briefs as I grazed my teeth over the bulge that was barely contained.
“I am scared,” I whispered again, massaging his massive thighs as I continued to look up and up into his eyes. “What I feel for you…” I glanced down, planting a kiss to his hard length over the fabric. “It’s consuming and powerful, and it turns me into a madwoman most days.”
He growled as I slipped my hand through the slit in the briefs and freed his long, hard length. I used both hands to hold him, to gently grip him.