Speechless (Pier 70 #3)

by Nicole Edwards

  Except he was trying to keep this as unemotional as he could because Teague was already on edge. It sucked, but Hudson was willing to compromise if it kept Teague from doing something stupid.

  Reaching down once more, he turned up the vibration, and Teague began humming on Hudson’s dick, which made him see stars. He gripped Teague’s head and began fucking his face while Teague reached between his legs and jerked himself.

  Fuck. Yes.

  Hudson was close. He wished he could cry out so Teague knew. He wanted the kid to lift his head and meet his eyes while they both came together, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. So, he pushed the thought away, gripped Teague’s hair more forcefully, and drove himself to completion.

  What shocked him most was the way Teague cried out, coming again at the same time Hudson did. Clearly he got off on Hudson finding his release, which told him that Teague wasn’t in it for personal satisfaction alone.

  When Teague fell onto his side, Hudson forced his weary body up from the couch, moved down, and removed the toy from the limp man before him. He then disappeared into the bathroom to clean up.

  It wasn’t a surprise to find Teague had disappeared by the time he returned. He glanced at the couch and saw that Teague had cleaned up, which, again, told him more about the kid than Teague was probably aware of.

  Hudson knew that he couldn’t keep this charade up forever. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed, wrapped around Teague’s body, and hold him while they slept. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore that desire. Every time he saw Teague, he fell deeper and deeper.

  He simply didn’t know what he was going to do about that.

  If anything.

  As he sat on his couch, staring at his phone, he tried to convince himself to leave it alone. Letting Teague go tonight was the only way this would work.

  Except Hudson didn’t want the night to be over. He ached to hold Teague, to have him there in his arms when he woke up in the morning. A solid month and a half of this and Hudson was slowly going insane with the need to move things forward.

  Didn’t matter that he had agreed to no strings, his heart hadn’t quite understood that specific detail.

  Grabbing his phone, he pulled up Teague’s contact information and typed up a text.

  I know it’s not part of the deal, but I’d give anything if you’d come back over here and stay the night. I want to wake up with you in the morning.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, Hudson hit send.

  And for twenty solid minutes, he cast eager glances at his door and his phone. Back and forth, back and forth.

  Unfortunately, Teague never returned. Nor did he respond to the text.

  Thirty-Two

  Thursday, August 11th

  IT HAD BEEN two days since Teague had let Hudson use the toy on him.

  Two fucking days.

  During that time, Hudson hadn’t paid much attention to him, and he had no idea why that was.

  Okay, maybe he did. It could’ve been one of three things.

  One, Hudson was pissed about the way Teague had reacted to his questions about Teague’s family. But then Hudson had summoned him back over for sex, so didn’t that mean Hudson was over it?

  Maybe not.

  Or Hudson could’ve been angry that Teague had slipped out while he’d been in the bathroom. Surely he had the right to go home afterward. Hudson shouldn’t be such a big fucking baby about it.

  But those were the lame excuses Teague had come up with. If he was completely honest with himself, Hudson was probably pissed that Teague hadn’t responded to that fucking text.

  When he closed his eyes, Teague could still see the words so clearly: I know it’s not part of the deal, but I’d give anything if you’d come back over here and stay the night. I want to wake up with you in the morning.

  The minute his phone had chimed, he’d grabbed it and read the words. Then he’d read them again and again. Over and over he’d read them, and for hours on end that night, Teague had tried to figure out how the fuck things had gotten so fucked up.

  He did not want to like Hudson. And he damn sure didn’t want to care about the man. But that text… He’d felt something crack in his chest and he’d refused to acknowledge it then. Or now.

  And he didn’t even give a shit if Hudson was mad.

  Not about not answering his probing questions, not about leaving, and certainly not about ignoring his admission of something that never should’ve been said between them.

  That wasn’t part of their deal. None of it was.

  Teague never planned to share the fucked-up story of his life with anyone. Not even Hudson, and truth be told, Teague was closer to Hudson than he’d ever been to anyone in his life. So close that it really fucking scared him.

  Once upon a time, Teague had been in a relationship. At seventeen.

  Yep, he had been seventeen at the time and the guy’s name was John. Teague had met John right before his senior year when Teague had moved in with a family in Westlake. Oh, how he had thought he’d hit the jackpot. John was the next-door neighbor, and he’d been eighteen, smoking-hot, and a football player to boot. They would’ve been in the same grade that year, and for once, the new foster family wasn’t all that bad because he got to spend time with John.

  Yeah. That lasted all of two fucking weeks. He had learned his lesson in fourteen short days. Thank God that wasn’t enough time to actually really like someone, much less love them. Teague had been prepared but shocked all the same.

  John was a football player and apparently it wasn’t cool to be seen with Teague. Unfortunately, Teague had learned that the hard way. Football practice had started before the school year had, and one day, for the hell of it, Teague had showed up to watch the practice. He was bored, so what the fuck else was he going to do?

  When John had caught sight of him in the stands, Teague had nodded a hello. No, he hadn’t waved or jumped up and down like some sort of pussy. A simple nod had set things in motion.

  Some of the other guys had started giving John shit about it. Turned out, John wasn’t out of the closet, although he had bragged to Teague that he was.

  However, Teague had showed John. When he and his buddies had decided to gang up on Teague that afternoon on his way home from practice, they had learned that it would take a hell of a lot more than three of them to jump him. He’d been fighting since first grade, remember? Breaking the one guy’s jaw would’ve likely landed him in some deep shit except for the fact that all three of those guys were eighteen and Teague was still only seventeen.

  It hadn’t been love by any means, but it sure had been another life lesson that had put Teague on this path.

  Those were the types of things he didn’t intend to share with Hudson. He also didn’t plan to tell Hudson about his mother or the life he’d spent bouncing around from one house to another. Teague actually wanted to forget about that. He wanted to make his past disappear completely. Every time he thought about it, he got angry. Sure, the anger felt good sometimes. It was better than the bleakness that frequently consumed him.

  However, talking wasn’t his thing. One of his high school counselors had tried that once. Teague had ended up getting expelled from school for fighting. He’d done it on purpose. They’d tried to force him to share his feelings; he’d chosen the alternate route.

  The sound of metal hitting a can caught his attention, and Teague looked up to see Hudson standing in the doorway of his office. He signed: Cam is looking for you. Said he needed you up front.

  Teague nodded, then grabbed a towel and wiped the grease from his hands. He had no idea what that was about, but he didn’t want to keep Cam waiting. Tossing the rag to the floor, Teague grabbed his sunglasses, shoved them on his face, and headed for the Pier 70 office.

  When he got there, Cam was leaning on the counter, staring at the appointment book in front of him.

  “What’s up?” Teague walked right up and casually leaned in front of Cam.<
br />
  “Since Hudson’s not gonna be here for a few days, I wanted to make sure you were going to be able to handle the workload. We’re booked solid for the next couple of weeks, and I might even need you to help out with some of the appointments.”

  Hudson wasn’t going to be there? When the hell had that happened? And why the fuck hadn’t Hudson relayed that information to him?

  Cam lifted his head, and Teague masked his expression, not wanting Cam to know that this was the first he’d heard of it.

  “I’ll be fine. And yeah, I can handle a couple of appointments, no problem.”

  “It’ll just be tomorrow, maybe Saturday morning,” Cam explained. “Thankfully, Hudson’ll be back on Monday.”

  Roan appeared out of nowhere. “I heard you say Hudson’s goin’ somewhere?”

  Teague glanced down at the appointment book and pretended to be looking at it.

  “He said he needed a few days off to clear his head. He’s gonna spend some time with his brother, but he’ll be back on Monday.”

  “Guy deserves a break,” Roan noted, glancing at Teague. “Y’all work too damn hard out there.”

  That was the damn truth, but not once had Teague taken time off like that. And to think, Hudson was the one who said Teague ran from his problems.

  Who the fuck was running now?

  IT WAS A chickenshit move, no two ways about it.

  The minute Teague headed up to the main office, Hudson grabbed the bag he’d packed and headed for his truck. Two nights ago, after Teague hadn’t responded to his text, he’d come to the conclusion that he needed to put a little distance between him and Teague. As it was, Hudson wanted to spend all his time fucking Teague senseless, and that wasn’t getting him where he needed to go.

  Sure, it fucking rocked, but for some reason, Hudson wanted more and Teague didn’t.

  So, this morning, he’d talked to Cam and let him know he’d be taking a long weekend, starting today. He had purposely avoided telling Teague, though, and now he had some doubt. However, he had told Cam all the details, so Teague simply had to ask to find out. Or—something he doubted would happen—Teague could text him and Hudson would let him know.

  Honestly, he was hoping that a little space would allow Teague to realize that this was as much for him as it was for Hudson. Not that he’d be that lucky, but if Teague could admit to himself that there was a connection between them that wasn’t entirely hedonistic, maybe they could move forward.

  “You look like shit,” AJ said by way of greeting when Hudson walked in his front door ten minutes later.

  Hudson dropped his bag and gave his brother the finger.

  AJ chuckled.

  “So, this is new. The running away thing. I thought that the kid was the one doing that, not you.”

  Hudson headed for the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator before joining AJ in the living room. He flopped onto the couch, put his feet up on the ottoman, and took a deep breath. After taking a sip, he set the bottle down and peered over at AJ, who was still watching him closely.

  I’m not running, he signed.

  “Oh, you’re definitely running. But I assume you’ve got a good reason for it.”

  He had a good reason, all right. He’d gone and fallen for Teague, and now he couldn’t get him off his mind. He had even opened himself up, and Teague had given him the cold shoulder. He wanted more than fucking five or six solid hours with Teague a week. He wanted Teague in his bed all night long, close enough for Hudson to breathe him in.

  “You love him, huh?” AJ asked, his tone not at all teasing.

  Hudson took another deep breath and nodded.

  “I knew it would happen. You thought you could keep this on the physical level. That shit never works out.”

  Sounds like you know from experience.

  AJ’s smile was sad. “Milly refuses to return my calls.”

  Well, damn. Hudson hated to hear that, and he had no idea what had happened between AJ and Milly other than they’d spent most of their time together on the cruise. Obviously they’d stayed the night together, but honestly, Hudson had never seen his brother like this.

  That sucks.

  “Have you told the kid how you feel?”

  In a way, yes. The text he’d sent Teague the other night was as open as he could be. Not that he would tell AJ that. Instead, Hudson gave his brother a get real look.

  “What? You’re the one who’s always talking about communicating. I find it ironic that you’re going back on that now. Considering all the lectures you’ve given me over the years.”

  Whatever.

  “I’m serious. Ever since Mom died, you’ve been on me to be open about how I feel. Said it’ll only cause problems to keep it bottled up. And here you are, damn near ready to combust because you’re not talking to Teague. He deserves to know.”

  He doesn’t want to know.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Yes. Positive. He’s looking for casual sex, nothing more. He refuses to get close to anyone.

  “Tell me how you can spend the past month screwing someone stupid and still not see that he’s already gotten close to you. I always said you were as dumb as you look.”

  That made Hudson laugh, albeit silently.

  “Yep.” AJ took a sip of his beer and turned his attention back to the television. “We’re a couple of sad cases, you know that?”

  Yep, he knew. He definitely knew.

  “So what do we do now?”

  Hudson shrugged. Baseball and pizza sounds like a plan.

  “I like where your head’s at.” AJ reached for his cell phone. “Double meat?”

  Hudson nodded.

  “I’m on it. Pizza, beer, and baseball. One hell of a way to spend a weekend.”

  One hell of a way.

  Not the way Hudson had hoped his weekend would go, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

  And now the only thing he could do was sit back and wait. Either Teague would move on and Hudson would be left trying to heal the pain he’d caused himself, or Teague would accept that this was something more and he’d finally give in.

  Hudson hoped like hell it was the latter. He wasn’t sure he could handle the former.

  Thirty-Three

  Saturday, August 13th

  “GIANT FUCKING ASSHOLE!” Teague threw the book across the room, watching as it slammed into the wall and crashed to the floor. “Fuck this shit.”

  Getting to his feet, he paced the floor, trying to relax. For the past two hours, he’d been attempting to teach himself sign language right up until he’d realized it was futile. Why the fuck did he need to learn that shit? He didn’t have a damn person to talk to out loud, much less using his hands.

  This was bullshit. Sitting around the fucking apartment like some lame motherfucker.

  He needed to do something. Something that didn’t involve sitting on his ass. Alone.

  Fuck.

  He was slowly going insane. This was the very reason he spent his time at the clubs, drinking, hanging with people who gave a shit. Or at least they pretended to for a little while. This sitting at home thing sucked. Big-time.

  Thrusting his hands into his hair, Teague grabbed his head, pulling it down and into his chest as he took a deep breath. He needed to chill the fuck out. This was simply a panic attack brought on from being alone. It would pass. It always did.

  “Arrgghh! This is such bullshit!”

  It was Saturday fucking night. Why the hell was he sitting here alone? And where the fuck was Hudson? The giant fucking asshole had been gone since Thursday afternoon right after the stupid asshole had snuck out of there when Teague had been talking to Cam and Roan. Cam had said Hudson was going to hang with his brother, not spend all his fucking time with him. The giant fucking asshole had left without saying a goddamn word, proof that he was another one who pretended to give a shit when it was beneficial to him.

  For the past month, Hudson had been beckoning Teag
ue when it appealed to him. They’d spent damn near all their time together and all of a sudden … boom! Hudson’s gone.

  The fucker.

  What the hell could Teague have possibly done to make Hudson tuck his tail between his legs and run away? Was he that difficult to be around?

  Teague reached for the glass of water sitting on the counter. He took a sip, then glanced at the door. Next thing he knew, he was throwing it, glass shattering, spraying back toward him. Rather than clean that shit up, he grabbed his truck keys and stormed out of his apartment. He needed something a hell of a lot stronger than water, and he didn’t give a shit about Hudson’s goddamn rules anymore.

  Fuck Hudson.

  Fuck him and his stupid arrangement.

  Fuck him to hell and back.

  Teague was done.

  It was time he got back to what he was good at. Losing himself in whiskey would be a fine way to jumpstart that.

  Stomping down the outside stairs that led to the parking lot, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he rounded the corner, damn near plowing into Roan.

  “Bro, you all right?”

  Teague met Roan’s eyes and nodded. “Fucking fantastic.”

  “I heard something crash. You okay?”

  “Just fucking perfect.”

  Glancing down at his hand, Teague realized he was shaking. The last damn thing he needed was Roan getting all motherly. He damn sure didn’t need that shit on top of everything else he was dealing with. Hell, he hadn’t needed a mother his whole fucking life, no reason to start now.

  “I just need to get out of here.” Forever. He would keep that last bit to himself.

  Roan didn’t look convinced, but Teague didn’t give a shit. He sidestepped him and made a beeline for his truck, ignoring Roan when he called out to him.

  He’d spent the past month and a half being the good little boy that Hudson wanted him to be. And where the fuck did that get him?

  No-goddamn-where. That’s where.

  And it was way past time that he fixed that.

  Starting right now.

  ROAN STARED AFTER Teague as his truck tore out of the parking lot, spraying gravel against the side of the building. A couple of pieces hit his shins but he ignored it. Instead, he snagged his cell phone from his pocket, then tried calling Teague.