by Nicola Marsh
‘I—I don’t know what to say...’ She stood and moved around to his side of the booth, shooing him over.
When he moved over, she slid in next to him and flung her arms around him, burrowing into the crook of his neck. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He slid his arms around her and held her close, inhaling the tempting vanilla fragrance of her hair, wishing they could stay this way forever.
But all too soon she pulled away, returned to her seat and their burgers arrived. They ate, traded banter and swapped trade talk as they usually did.
Yet beneath it all Hudson could feel an undercurrent, a powerful force pulling Mak away from him.
He knew he’d done the right thing in telling her about the Broadway audition, even if it had been out of guilt.
But at what cost?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MAKAYLA KNEW SHE should be listening to Hudson as they strolled the familiar back streets of Kings Cross, but her mind kept drifting back to the news he’d given her, casual as you like, over dinner.
He’d put her forward for an audition with Reg Grober. The Reg Grober. For a dance role on Broadway.
Freaking Broadway!
She’d pinched herself several times when he hadn’t been looking then proceeded to digest one of Jonnie’s famous burgers without tasting a thing. She could’ve been ingesting arsenic sprinkled on a mud pie for all the attention she’d paid her food.
Broadway.
Her dream from the first moment she’d slipped on tap shoes at age three.
Her mum had never laughed at her. Instead, she’d fostered her love of dance, scrimping and saving from her own jobs, as a part-time waitress and dancer, to pay for lessons. Jazz, tap, ballet, Makayla had done them all. And she’d practised until her toes bled, repeating routines in front of the cracked second-hand mirror in their tiny lounge room in a one-bedroom flat on top of Bluey’s bar in Darlinghurst Road.
Though they’d lived in the heart of Kings Cross and Makayla had grown up around dive bars, her mum had instilled values in her from a young age. She might have seen stuff a kid shouldn’t but she could never do those things herself.
That was part of why Hudson’s misjudgement of her that one and only night she’d stripped had stung so damn bad. Makayla wouldn’t have done it unless she was desperate, and he should’ve known that.
But after their earlier discussion it looked as if they’d finally moved past that night. He’d freaked out because he was trying to protect her. Good intentions, bad execution.
They’d cleared the air before he’d dropped his little bombshell.
And she hadn’t been able to focus on anything else since.
‘Hey, are you listening to me?’
She laughed and squeezed his hand. ‘Honestly? I have no idea how far we’ve walked and I haven’t heard half of what you’ve said.’ She did a little jig on the spot. ‘I can’t stop thinking about the audition.’
‘I knew you’d be like this when I told you.’ He grinned and swung their arms between them as they resumed walking. ‘You’re nothing if not predictable.’
‘Hey, I resent that,’ she said, bumping him with her hip.
However, he missed the wall and stumbled into a small opening between two buildings, tugging her with him. It could’ve passed for an alley if it weren’t so narrow, barely enough room for the two of them. A snug fit. Snugger when she pressed against him and his back hit the wall.
‘Predictable, huh?’ She ground against him a little, his cock rubbing her sweet spot and making her breath hitch. ‘Want me to show you how non-predictable I can be?’
Makayla had done many things in her lifetime. Sex in public wasn’t one of them. But they were in a back alley, secluded from prying eyes. No one ever strolled this way. In fact, the only reason why they’d taken this route was because they’d done it years earlier, when he’d walked her home many times, defiantly confident that nobody would lay a finger on them because he was so well known in the Cross.
‘You’re serious?’ His eyes glittered with excitement in the wan light spilling through the alley opening.
‘Well, I need to dispel this preconception you have of me,’ she said, snaking her hand between their bodies to cup his burgeoning boner. ‘And what better way than to ravish you in an alley?’
She rubbed the length of him, savoured his low groan. ‘Hot, fast, alley sex. What could be less predictable than that?’
He claimed her mouth in response, their teeth clashing a little in his eagerness to devour her. His tongue swept into her mouth, commanding and demanding, teasing and taunting until she strained against him, needing more.
She’d never been so thankful for wearing a dress when he rucked up the skirt, a firm hand kneading her ass while the other delved beneath her panties to finger her hot spot.
‘I love how responsive you are,’ he murmured against her ear, nipping the soft skin beneath it as he slid one finger inside her, another, while his thumb worked magic on her clit. ‘So tight. So wet...’
She moaned as his thumb increased pressure, driving her to the brink faster than she could’ve thought possible. She had no idea if it was the fear of being seen, the bite of chill against her naked butt, or her being so confident in Hudson’s ability to pleasure her, but whatever it was, her orgasm built quickly, making her quiver and strain towards it.
She clung to him as his thumb changed the angle on her clit slightly and pushed harder, faster, and she was gone. She sank her teeth into his shoulder as she came, pleasure spiralling upward and outward, wave upon wave until she sagged limp against him.
She was barely aware of him rummaging in his pocket, unzipping and sheathing. But she knew what was coming and her body tensed in anticipation.
When he pressed against her, she hooked a leg around his waist, giving him all the access he needed to drive into her in one hard thrust.
Maybe it was the narrowness of the alley and the angle of their bodies, maybe it was the wantonness of the situation, maybe it was the heightened awareness of outdoor sex, but she’d never felt so turned on in all her life.
With every thrust she came alight, ripples of awareness spreading through her and making her tingle, her skin hypersensitive to his every touch, her body finely attuned to his in a way it had never been.
Every inch of her craved, every nerve ending buzzed. She’d turned into one of those static electricity balls, sparking wherever he touched her.
‘You wanted hard and fast, right?’
‘Yeah...’ she gasped as he drove into her harder, faster, the beginnings of another orgasm teasing at the edges of her consciousness.
‘What the lady wants,’ he murmured, grabbing her ass and picking her up, angling her just right so she came apart again, so swiftly and spontaneously that she let out a yell he quickly silenced by covering her mouth with his.
He stiffened a moment later, and she swallowed his groan, the power of his orgasm making her wish they could do this all over again.
But all too quickly he’d lowered her until her feet touched the ground. Withdrew. Smoothed down her skirt before turning away to take care of business. While all Makayla could do was prop against the wall until the wobble in her legs subsided.
When he turned back, his grin lit up the alley. ‘That was...’ he shook his head, momentarily lost for words ‘...the hottest damn thing ever.’
He reached for her, hugged her tight. ‘You’re incredible, you know that?’
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
Her sassy retort earned a chuckle, his chest reverberating against hers, before he eased back.
‘Have you worked up an appetite for dessert? Perhaps we can have a nightcap and apple pie at Bluey’s?’
‘I’d like that,’ she said, searching his face for some sign that what had just happened between them
meant as much to him as it did to her.
She’d just had the hottest sex of her life—in public—which made her realise something: she never would’ve trusted any other guy this much.
Hudson made her feel cherished and safe and, dare she say it, loved.
It frightened the hell out of her.
She couldn’t lose sight of her goal, especially when it could be within her grasp. If all went according to plan and she nailed the audition for Reg Grober she could be moving to New York sooner rather than later, and falling for Hudson would only complicate matters.
She couldn’t fall in love with him.
She wouldn’t.
But what if it was too late?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
HUDSON HADN’T BEEN a monk over the years. Being a manager in Sydney’s hippest club ensured he never had any shortage of beautiful women wanting a piece of him. It didn’t make him conceited. It was a fact he accepted with eternal gratitude.
But never in the years since he’d lost his virginity at fifteen to a much older woman who ran a bar in the Cross had he indulged in the kind of risqué sex he’d just had with Mak.
She’d blown his mind. Literally.
He’d brought her to the Cross for a stroll down memory lane. Never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated raunchy alley sex.
He’d never felt like this. Totally discombobulated. Mak constantly surprised him, with a knack for throwing him off-guard regularly. It made him wonder; did she do it on purpose, to keep him at an emotional distance? His musing was soon replaced by a darker supposition.
Had the phenomenal sex been her way of repaying him for the Grober audition?
He hated the mere thought of it, as it cheapened what they’d shared ten minutes ago. He didn’t want her to feel grateful. Or as if she owed him anything.
What would she think if she knew he’d only blurted the news about the audition out of guilt for being such a prick in the past?
She’d reacted the way he’d anticipated too, her mind drifting and her responses vague, already pulling away from him. If they hadn’t stumbled into that alley, would she have wanted to spend the rest of the evening with him or would she already be home, researching the Broadway show and all it entailed?
He hated feeling like this. Confused and concerned. So he’d done the only thing he could think of to re-establish equilibrium; brought her to Bluey’s and hoped that memories of their shared past would strengthen the bonds between them now.
‘How long since you’ve been here?’ He held the door open for her and waited until she entered before following.
‘Too long,’ she said, rapidly blinking as she glanced around the bar. ‘I can’t believe it looks the same.’
‘You know Bluey. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ He guided her through the throng of late-night jazz fans that crowded the bar.
Every table was full and the standing-room area near the stage had people ten deep. Hudson was glad. A packed house would keep Bluey busy and hopefully not focussed on his impending trip to see the big guy upstairs.
‘It even smells the same,’ Mak said, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. ‘Fried onion rings and bourbon.’
Hudson knew what she meant. Every place he’d ever worked back then had its own smell, some more pleasant than others. Bluey’s had always smelled good to him because he knew he’d find Mak here, holed up in a small room off the main bar. Doing homework. Flicking through magazines. Keeping busy while her mum worked a shift.
He touched her hand when he spotted Bluey. ‘I spy someone who would love to see you.’
Her eyes opened and zeroed in on the hallway leading from the main bar to the back. ‘Oh, my God, he looks awful.’
‘You might need to keep that gem to yourself,’ he said, guiding her towards Bluey, whose eyes lit up the moment he spied them. ‘Bloody cancer. So unfair.’
‘He looks skeletal,’ she murmured, reaching for Hudson’s hand and holding on tight. ‘Poor Bluey.’
However, as they neared him, she pasted a smile on her face, released Hudson’s hand and enveloped the older man in a hug. ‘It’s been too long.’
‘You got that right, girlie.’ Bluey’s arms wrapped around her, and Hudson had to look away for fear the emotion clogging his throat would be too easily read on his face.
When they eventually disengaged, Hudson glanced back to find Bluey staring at Mak with tears in his eyes.
‘You’re the spitting image of your mother.’ He reached out to touch her hair. ‘Even the same striking colour.’
‘Mum was beautiful so I guess I’m lucky.’
‘She sure was.’ Bluey cleared his throat and gestured at the bar. ‘What’ll you have to drink?’
‘Chardonnay for me, please.’ She glanced at Hudson. ‘You?’
Hudson needed something stronger tonight, something that would chase away his funk and the insistent rumblings deep inside that he’d already lost Mak.
‘Whisky, neat.’
Bluey’s eyebrows raised in comical disbelief. ‘First time you’ve ever had a man’s drink in all these years.’
‘I’m shaking things up tonight.’ Hudson shot Mak a meaningful look, and she blushed.
Bluey snorted and poked Mak in the arm. ‘Word of advice, girlie. Don’t let this fool sweet talk you.’
‘Might be too late for that,’ she said, smiling as she slid an arm around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. ‘He’s kinda charming when he wants to be.’
Bluey snorted again, unable to hide a grin. ‘I’ll be right back with those drinks. Make yourself comfortable in the nook.’
‘So you think I’m charming, huh?’ He backed her into the nook where they’d once spent countless hours chatting and nuzzled her neck. ‘Because you ain’t seen nothing yet.’
‘Hmm...’ She almost purred as he nibbled his way across her jaw, down her neck, to the tender spot above her shoulder. ‘Want to hear something perverted?’
He lifted his head to stare at her. ‘Always.’
‘What you’re doing now, here? I used to fantasise about it happening a lot back then.’ An adorable blush stained her cheeks. ‘And I filled an awful lot of notebooks with our initials intertwined in hearts when everyone thought I was doing homework.’
Nostalgia gripped him, squeezing his chest in a vice. ‘Your crush was reciprocated one hundred per cent but the age thing...’
‘Yeah, I know. Everybody would’ve flipped if we’d started dating back then.’ A cheeky glint darkened her eyes. ‘Especially if we were as naughty then as we are now.’
‘Naughty doesn’t begin to describe it,’ he said, his cock instantly at half-mast at the mention of what they’d indulged in less than twenty minutes earlier.
‘Then maybe we can think up other words. Later.’ She arched her pelvis into his, her smile positively wicked.
‘You’re insatiable,’ he muttered, brushing a kiss across her lips. ‘And I like it. A lot.’
‘For Pete’s sake, get a room,’ Bluey said, entering the nook and placing a tray with drinks on the table in the corner. ‘I always pegged you for a smart girl, Mak. Don’t know what you see in this bozo.’
‘He has his good points.’ She laughed and slipped out of his arms, before taking a seat at the table. ‘One of them being the fact he doesn’t forget his friends.’
She winced and reached to cover Bluey’s hand with hers where it rested on the table. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around.’
‘Shit happens.’ Bluey shrugged but Hudson saw how much Mak’s admission meant in the set of his jaw. ‘You moved on after your mum died. A natural progression.’
‘Yeah, but I should’ve popped in to visit.’ The corners of her mouth downturned. ‘Hudson told me. About the cancer.’
‘Like I said, shit happens.’ Bluey blinked a f
ew times before his jaw clenched. ‘I’m dying. So let’s not waste this visit overstating the obvious and talk about other stuff.’
Bluey’s gaze turned shifty. ‘Tell me what’s going on between you two.’
Mak said, ‘Nothing,’ at the same time as Hudson and Bluey laughed.
‘Hey, I won’t tell anyone.’ Bluey tapped the side of his nose. ‘What happens at Bluey’s stays at Bluey’s.’
Hudson waited for Mak to say something, not wanting to overstep and say the wrong thing: like the fact he was in a relationship with Mak but it could end at any moment.
Mak flashed a cheeky smile at them both. ‘Hudson’s sort of my boss at the moment so I’m not supposed to say anything, but...’ She crooked her finger at Bluey. ‘I had a massive crush on him years ago so you can’t blame a girl for losing her head and falling for him a little.’
Hudson grinned. She’d admitted to falling for him. That had to be a good thing moving forward. So why did he feel like her admission was some kind of consolation prize considering she’d be leaving soon?
Bluey rolled his eyes. ‘At least he’s a good guy.’
‘Thanks for that rousing endorsement.’ Hudson lifted his Scotch in a toast. ‘To old times. And old timers.’
Bluey picked up his dark rum, his poison of choice for as long as Hudson could remember, and clinked glasses. ‘To making the most of every minute.’
‘To us,’ Mak added, her simple toast meaning more than she could’ve imagined when she locked gazes with him, trying to convey a message he had no hope of interpreting.
Was she realising that his revelation earlier meant the end of them? That the odds were in her favour to pack up and head to New York without him? Did she care?
They’d never stipulated a time line for this relationship. Hell, they’d never spelled out much of anything. They’d given in to a long-held passion without articulating what this would mean if things got serious.
Because they’d both been stupid enough to believe it wouldn’t.
