The headboard is knocking against the wall, and an orgasm is gathering inside me, something wild and brutal and altogether different than anything I’ve felt before. I think that Hudson is deeper inside me than he’s ever been before. I can feel him everywhere, every stroke in every part of my body. He’s marking me, and I want it. He’s grunting with the effort and I can’t stop moaning, saying yes, and my voice rises with the tide of pleasure until I’m almost screaming.
Hudson screams out my name as he comes, fucking his way through his orgasm, and mine follows. It’s not just a wave, it’s a cascade, a tsunami, it crushes me with the sheer size of the sensation. My pussy clamps down onto him, holding on, never wanting this to end. It’s too big to hold, no person can have this much pleasure in their body at once. It’s impossible. He collapses on top of me, and I’m pinned beneath his heat, his cock still inside me as the orgasm wrings me out. I can’t move, he’s everywhere, around me and in me. Pulling out, he turns me over, kissing me hard. So hard I think it might bruise.
“If you’re going to leave again, tell me. I’d rather know than wake up to an empty bed.”
“I’m not leaving.”
His face is hard, like he doesn’t believe me. That’s fair. But I’m really not.
“If you’re not leaving, then tell me what your plans for the weekend are.”
A wash of cold goes through my body. My mother and my sister. Even if I know that they’ve been wrong, that I’ve been wrong about myself, I’m still not ready to jump from this to domestic bliss. “It’s not you,” I say. “But I’m not quite ready. I feel safe here. I don’t know if I’m ready for you to meet the real me. I like who I am here, and I couldn’t take it if you didn’t like me in the real world.”
“Please, Christine. I don’t care about that. I just want to know you.”
“Let’s just…go slowly.”
He sighs, but his face isn’t the hard and unyielding mask it was just a few minutes ago. “All right. As long as you promise not to disappear.”
“I promise,” I say, moving my hand up to my chest. “Cross my heart.”
“Good.” He kisses me hard again, and pulls back just long enough to replace the condom. “Now I have four days without you to make up for. When you leave you may not be able to walk.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that your promise?”
“Absolutely.”
11
The familiar red pick-up truck pulls up outside my house at exactly ten o’clock. If there’s one thing my mother is, it’s punctual. In her mind punctuality is as close to godliness as cleanliness is. Though I’ve never understood how she could manage it on long trips like this. I guess there are worse super powers to have.
I watch through the curtains as my sister hops down from the truck and my mother gets out from the driver’s side. They give the house a good long look. It’s the first time they’ve been here. I had an apartment last time. I’m only able to have a house like this because the owner is living in another country for a few years and wanted someone to keep living there. It’s nice and is in the right price range. Over the past year or so I’ve really made it mine. It’s become my safe space. Or it was, until I found Hudson and the club. But still, watching them approach my door makes my stomach sink and jaw clench. My realization of last night makes me want them in my home even less, but there’s nothing that I can do about it.
I take a step back as they approach the door, so they don’t see me watching them, and I wait for the doorbell to ring. It does, and I give myself a second. I take a deep breath, paste a happy smile on my face, and open the door. “Hi.”
“Hey,” my sister says, brushing past me as I stand aside.
My mom gives me a smile and pulls me into a hug. “How are you, sweetie?”
“I’m good. You guys have bags?”
“They’re in the truck. We’ll grab them in a bit.” She comes in and I close the door. Catherine is standing, surveying the main area of my small house, and my mother joins her. For the first time, I see it how they must see it. Small and cramped with not quite enough natural light. Cluttered with my photography things and posters of strange art that they don’t understand. I can tell the smile on my mother’s face is fake. “This is nice.”