This time, I actually shake my head. “I don’t know…”
“Just think about it,” he says, kissing my cheek. “For now, let’s go find some popcorn, order dinner, and hope the kids don’t pick a movie that’s too cheesy.”
“Where’s Lucas?”
“With the girls, I’m sure.”
After we order a bunch of pizzas, drinks, snacks, and popcorn from room service, Hudson takes my hand in his and guides us to wherever the kids are, which turns out to be the theater room. Yes, his suite has an actual room with huge, comfy recliners and a massive projection screen.
“All right, the food’s on its way,” Hudson announces when we walk inside. “Now, which movie are we watching?”
Of course, all three kids name a different movie.
CHAPTER FIVE
HUDSON
It’s been five years since I’ve allowed myself to be drawn to another woman. To pay attention to her luscious curves, her perfect full breasts, to get lost in her lavender scent. I thought when it happened, I would feel guilty, and I was prepared for it. I rehearsed a speech several times over the years to convince myself that it’s been long enough, it’s okay to move on and be attracted to another woman, but when I kissed Sawyer, it felt as natural as rain. For the first time in years, my heart clenched behind my rib cage, and my dick got excited that I might finally allow him to come out to play.
At first, when I realized I was turned on, all I wanted to do was find an empty bed, peel Sawyer’s clothes off her body, and get my dick wet for the first time in five long as fuck years. But the more we talked and got to know one another, the more I wanted… more. More of her truths, of her laughter. More of her smiles. Just fucking more.
When my wife left me, I promised myself I wouldn’t become that guy. The one who drowns his sorrows in women by having one-night stands to fill the void. I told myself I wouldn’t degrade what we had by becoming some manwhore. The problem is, when you’re raising two kids and live in the type of world I live in, it’s damn near impossible to meet a woman with any substance, who I could see myself having a future with. So, one year turned into two, and two turned into four, and the next thing I knew, I’d spent the past five years focusing on football and my kids without even attempting to be with another woman since my wife.
“I should probably take Abby back to our room,” Sawyer rasps as the credits roll, and I run my palm up her smooth thigh. She’s wearing tiny cotton shorts and a tank that show off her sexy body and tan, and I can’t stop touching her. It’s been this way the entire movie. The kids sprawled out across the first row of chairs with pillows and blankets, so Sawyer and I sat behind them. With a blanket draped over us, I spent the movie running my hand along her flesh, teasing the apex of her thighs but never taking it any further.
“Or she can spend the night,” I whisper, turning the movie off, then leaning in and catching her earlobe between my teeth. She shivers under my touch, and I chuckle at how responsive she is. “The kids are passed out. Let them have a sleepover while we have one of our own.”
She turns her face to look at me, and the desire in her eyes has me wanting to ravish the hell out of her. “What if they wake up?” She chews on her bottom lip nervously, and I know, despite how much we want each other, taking it further can’t happen with the kids in the same room.
“How about we move this to the living room?” I suggest.
She nods in agreement, and we quietly exit the theater room, leaving the kids asleep. When we get to the living room, I open a bottle of white wine and pour her a glass, then make myself a whiskey.
“I’m sorry,” she says, accepting the glass from me and taking a sip.
“You don’t have to apologize.” I sit next to her, and she snuggles in close to me. “The truth is I haven’t been with a woman in several years.”
She pulls back slightly, her eyes going wide. “Really? Why?”
“I haven’t been with anyone since my wife died,” I admit for the first time to anyone. Over the years, I’ve been occasionally seen with a different woman on my arm at social events, but none of them had me wanting more, not like Sawyer does.
She gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “Your wife died?”
It’s public knowledge, but since she didn’t know who I was, it makes sense that she doesn’t know about my personal past. I also love that her not knowing means she didn’t Google me.