“Just remember you brought this on yourself, Kenna.”
She looked over at him and traced his profile and the line of his jaw with her eyes. Wishing like hell she could reach out and run her fingertips along it. “You’re the only one who calls me that, you know.”
“What…Kenna?”
She nodded, sliding her attention back to the bobber floating in the water. The bare skin of Hudson’s arm brushed against hers as he shrugged. Trying to hold back the goose bumps was futile.
“Everyone calls you Mac.” He turned to her, staring until she twisted and returned his gaze. “I don’t want to be like everyone else with you. Never did.”
She held her breath. Just…stopped breathing entirely, not wanting to interrupt the moment with a silly thing like air. Tension simmered between them, and it only increased when his eyes dropped to her lips.
They were close. So close. All it would take was the subtlest lean from either of them and they’d be kissing. She wanted that, more than she could remember wanting anything. She wanted to feel the softness of his mouth contrasting with the coarse whiskers from his stubbled jaw. Wanted his hands tangled in her hair, tugging her closer to him, keeping her right where he needed her to be. Wanted to abandon her fishing rod and straddle him on the bench. Press her breasts into his bare chest as she wrapped her arms around him, ground down against him, and—
Her line tugged, the bobber dipping under the water. It might as well have been a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. She jerked and shook off the daze of lust that had swept over her and got to work reeling in her last fish.
By the time she had tossed it into her basket, their two hours were up, and Hudson hadn’t caught another.
“All right, big man.” Mac pulled up her basket and counted each fish aloud. “That’s six, baby. You ready to kiss some fish?”
“Now, wait just a minute.” Hudson lifted his basket. “I miscounted. I have five.”
“Umm…you need to go back to kindergarten and take a refresher? Last time I checked, six was definitely more than five.”
“But mine are bigger than yours, so they should count for more.”
She dropped her mouth open and let out a disbelieving laugh. “You cannot be serious.”
He just shrugged in response, which only infuriated her more.
“Nope,” she said with a decisive shake of her head. “No way. The bet was for whoever catches the most fish.”
“Ah, but do you define most by weight or number?”
“Obviously number, you jackass!” She shoved him in his chest, too mad to allow the feel of his heated, bare skin to affect her. Much. “You’re just tryin’ to figure out a way to get out of kissin’ all these fish.”
“I just don’t see why you should be the default winner if mine weigh more, that’s all I’m sayin’.” He shrugged. “If you can’t agree with that, maybe we should call it a tie.”
“A tie? A tie?” She planted her hands on her hips and faced him with a glare. “We don’t do ties. We do winner and loser—this isn’t new, Hudson. I’m not allowin’ you to suddenly change the rules as you see fit after almost fifteen years just because you’re a sore loser, you loser.” She shoved him again, a weird mix of desire and irritation bubbling inside her. “And I’m not leavin’ this lake until you pucker up.”
One minute, they were staring at each other in challenge, and the next, he wrapped his hand around her neck, tugged her toward him, and pressed his lips to hers.
Hudson had no fucking idea why he’d decided to finally kiss Kenna. Absolutely none. It was a gamble he’d been talking himself out of for years. It had always been tomorrow or next week or some other time. But he’d run out of tomorrows with her. He was leaving to do God knew what in God knew where, and the future wasn’t a guarantee. That sort of had a way of changing his perspective.
When it came right down to it, he simply hadn’t been able to hold back anymore. And from the way Kenna was returning his kiss, her hands tangled in his hair, she’d been doing some holding back of her own.
Before he could even contemplate what that meant, she clutched his shoulders for leverage, threw her leg across to straddle him, and planted herself right in his lap. Settled directly over the hard-as-steel bulge in his swim trunks that he could hide about as easily as one could hide the Statue of Liberty.
“Hud,” she breathed, her head tipped to the side like an offering for him. One he readily accepted.
“Yeah.” He trailed kisses down the length of her neck, kissing every one of the freckles he knew by heart. God, he’d wanted this for so long. So fucking long. Ever since he could remember, it’d been only Kenna for him. And it’d been hard as hell to go about dating as if she weren’t the sole woman he craved. He loved.
And suffering through seeing her with other guys?
He growled low in his throat at the thought, and she whimpered in response, pressing harder against him. He’d thought he knew her inside and out, but he realized now there was an entire part of her he was desperate to become acquainted with. He wanted to know each one of her sounds and what they meant. What made her arch against him. What made her grind down on him. What made her moan. He wanted them all.
“Hud, what’re we doin’?” she asked, breathless.
“If you’re wonderin’ that, I really need to step up my game.” His lips swept along her neck with every word, and she shuddered in response.
The tips of her breasts were tight and puckered, brushing against his bare chest through the thin material of her bathing suit top. She breathed out a laugh that turned into a moan when he sucked the sensitive skin just below her ear. “You step it up any more, and I’ll combust right here on your lap.”
The thought of her coming because of him was almost too much. He throbbed in his swim trunks, his dick begging to be let out.
He kissed a path back to her mouth, then sucked her bottom lip between his. “That’s kinda the idea.”
As if she loved the thought as much as he did, she tightened her arms around him and kissed him deep, her tongue slipping between his lips. Their groans mingled between them, the only sound other than the soft lapping of the water against the boat. The fact that they were tucked away in their alcove with no witnesses didn’t help Hudson’s willpower. He wanted to peel her swimsuit from her skin. Wanted to see her out here in the sunlight, her eyes clenched shut tight and head tossed back as she rode him to orgasm. Even better if she was naked while doing it.
It’d been too damn long since he’d felt her around him. And it’d been too damn short when it’d happened. It’d been only once—and as a first for them both, it’d been about as short as a commercial break—but it’d stuck in his mind for two years. Had rooted itself there as a reminder of what he could have, if only he tried. It’d been amazing then, and he’d known it. Knew, also, that it wasn’t just because it’d been his first time, but because it’d been with her.
How much different would it be now? Knowing there was no purpose to it other than because they wanted to. Needed to.
And, Christ, did he need.
He dropped his hands to her ass and urged her forward, guiding the subtle rocking motion she was making with her hips. As soon as he put that pressure against her, driving her clit straight against him, she moaned long and deep into his mouth.
“Feel good?” His voice was so gravelly, he barely recognized it as his own.
She answered with another moan, this time pressing her forehead against his, her arms holding him tighter to her. Her eyes were clenched shut tight, her lips parted, her cheeks bright and flushed. He ached to make her come just like this. Ached to watch her fall apart in his arms.
“Tell me what you need, Kenna.”
Her eyes snapped open, her gaze locked with his. “I… I…” She bit her lip, her hips still rocking against him. She unwrapped her arms from his shoulders, reached back to grasp his wrists, and brought his hands around to her front.
And then she pressed
them right against her breasts.
“You want my hands on you?” He said it more to himself than to her, a note of disbelief in his voice. Jesus, was this really happening? After so long of only having her like this in his dreams and fantasies, he was getting her. He was finally getting her.
And then he was leaving.
Shit. He couldn’t have sex with her without first telling her what the future held for them. Hell, he shouldn’t even have let it get this far. And he was a little ashamed of himself that he had.
Kenna rocked harder against him, her moans deepening any time he exerted pressure on her breasts.
No, he shouldn’t have let it get this far before telling her, but he wasn’t going to leave her panting. He’d make sure she was taken care of, and then he’d stop them before anything more could happen. He’d tell her first.
With the sole goal of getting her off, he put everything he had into kissing her, knowing this might be the last time she allowed it. He had no idea what would happen after he told her everything, but he wasn’t going to take this for granted. He memorized the taste of her, the feel of her against him, the fit of her breasts in his palms, the tight pucker of her nipples against his fingertips.
He moved one hand back to her ass to guide her harder against him, letting her use the head of his dick to get her exactly where she needed to go. All the while maintaining as much control as he could. He was minutes away from coming in his trunks, but he wouldn’t allow himself that pleasure. This needed to be only for Kenna.
“Hud…” She panted against his mouth, their lips brushing as she rocked back and forth, back and forth. The rhythm picking up speed and pressure. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her short nails leaving crescents in his skin.
“You close?” He could tell she was. Her entire body had gone rigid, her muscles locked. Her grip tightened more with each second that passed, and he knew she was going to shatter any moment.
Pressing his hand firmer on her ass, he moved her against him harder, faster. At the same time, he strummed his thumb across her nipple in a rapid movement.
She choked out his name on a sob, her body tightening around him, before she exhaled a moan as she came.
For as long as he lived, he’d never forget her exactly as she was now. Breathless. Boneless. Sated. And completely fucking gorgeous.
Once her hips stilled, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, her hands resting on his sides. Her fast breaths swept down his chest and didn’t do anything to assuage the rock-hard problem in his trunks.
And Kenna noticed.
She lifted her head and stared at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Your turn.” She inched her fingers along his sides until they were low on his stomach, just above the waistband of his shorts.
And then they dipped underneath.
He sucked in a breath, wanting nothing more than to let her keep going. He craved it. But he couldn’t. Not without first giving her the truth. He wouldn’t make that decision for her. If she still wanted him after it was all out—and, Christ, he hoped she still wanted him…in every way possible—he’d give her anything she asked for.
With a groan, he grabbed her wrists and halted her questing fingers. “Kenna. Wait.”
“What? Why? You’re still hard.” To punctuate that, she rocked forward, tugging a choked moan from his throat. “Let me…”
It would be so easy to give in. So easy to let her coax his hands away with her hot-as-sin body rocking against him, her lips on his, her tongue in his mouth.
But he’d hate himself for it. Kenna deserved better than that. She deserved the truth.
“Not now.” When he saw the pained look in her eyes, he quickly clarified, “Not yet.” He reached up and brushed back the few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail. Trailed his fingers down the curve of her jaw, down her neck. He could spend days mapping her body with his fingers, and it still wouldn’t be enough time.
He could spend eternity with her, and it wouldn’t be long enough.
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes darting between his.
He met her gaze. Swallowed down his nerves. He ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands, whether to soothe her or himself, he wasn’t sure.
Unable to stall anymore, he took a deep breath and said, “We need to talk.”
Mac’s body was lit up like the sky on the Fourth of July. Goose bumps covered every inch of her that she could see. And the places she couldn’t? Well, they were faring much worse…or perhaps, much better would’ve been more accurate. She’d known kissing Hudson would be amazing, but even she hadn’t anticipated it being quite so off-the-charts, toe-curling, and panty-melting as the reality had been.
The two of them…fit. There was no other word to describe it as perfectly. They fit together like puzzle pieces, locking in and never wanting to separate.
True, they’d kissed before—more than once. They’d decided long ago that they’d share all their firsts together. And those firsts? Usually involved some sort of kissing to get the ball rolling.
But as good as those early kisses had been, there’d always been something holding one or both of them back. Because none of those lip-locks had ever been just because they’d wanted to. There’d been an obligatory thread underlying every one of them. This kiss, though? This had been pure, unadulterated want.
She could still feel the evidence of his need, solid and thick, between her legs. Without thought, she clutched his shoulders and rocked forward, pulling a groan from his throat and an answering moan floating out from hers. He felt so good—too good—and she wanted to soak in the feeling of his body pressed against hers for as long as humanly possible.
With tight hands on her hips, he stilled her movements and dropped his head to her shoulder. “You’re killin’ me, Kenna.”
She laughed, unable to recall a time she’d felt this…light. This happy. She was going off to college, getting away from the demands and unending pressure of her family name, and she was doing so with her best friend in the whole world. A best friend she hoped like hell was on the way to becoming something so much more. “I somehow doubt death would feel this good.”
He panted against her chest, the puffs of air ghosting over her already hard nipples and cranking up her desire to a thousand. She pressed her mouth to his ear, brushing her lower lip against his lobe. She’d never been able to be like this with him, even when they’d given their virginities to each other. But this? Now? She couldn’t help herself.
After all this time, she couldn’t believe they were finally there.
“As much as I’d love to jump into this with you—and I would absolutely fucking love it—we need to talk first.” Hudson pushed her back in his lap and away from the hardness concealed by his swim trunks.
But did they really need to talk? Did they really? What else could he have to tell her other than that he thought of her the same way she did of him? That he wanted to be with her—truly be with her—as more than best friends and first everythings. That he wanted her to be his. The evidence of that was so blatant, it might as well be a billboard sitting with them in the fishing boat.
She allowed herself to slide forward again, pressing the hottest part of her against the hardest part of him. He let her settle there for a moment before he groaned loudly, gripped her hips, and lifted her right off his lap and onto the seat next to him. He ran his hands down his face and then cupped his head in his palms, breathing deeply until he appeared to get himself under control.
When he lifted his head, he shot her a look that to anyone else would probably appear like irritation. But she’d known him long enough that she could see the underlying humor in his eyes, in the twitch of his mouth.
She shrugged. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’d be lyin’.”
He barked out a laugh before reaching over and curling his hand around her neck. He traced his thumb over her bottom lip, his eyes seeming to take in every inch of her he could see—and some of the inche
s he couldn’t. “And your brutal honesty is one of the many reasons I love you.”
Mac froze. She stopped breathing as she just stared at him…at the truth dancing in his brown eyes.
They’d exchanged I love you’s more times than she could count, but they’d always been said with a buddy undertone. They’d also never been said after one of them had come in the other’s lap. This was definitely uncharted territory, and Mac wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Didn’t quite know where to go from here.
Holy shit, this was actually happening.
She’d waited and wished and hoped with everything she had that what she felt for him wasn’t one-sided. That the way they fit so perfectly together wasn’t only seen by her.
And it wasn’t.
A smile swept across her lips, her eyes lighting up as she looked at him. She’d kept her feelings for him a secret for so long, she should’ve been able to do it for another few minutes until he was done speaking. But she found she couldn’t. She just couldn’t anymore. The words wanted to pour from her mouth, and she couldn’t do anything to stop them. “I lo—”
“Wait.” Hudson pressed his thumb to her lips, silencing her. His once-playful eyes had grown serious as he watched her. “I don’t deserve to hear that until I tell you this first.”
Mac reached up and wrapped her hand around his forearm, her brow drawing tight. “Don’t deserve? What do you mean?”
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he pulled her close and dropped one soft, sweet kiss on her lips. With his forehead pressed to hers, he said, “I don’t even know how to tell you this. How to start. And knowing that you could hate me—that you probably will hate me—when I’m done doesn’t make it any easier.”
Mac pulled away so she could look in his eyes. “What? Hud, no. I’d never hate you. Whatever you have to tell me, just say it. It’ll be fine. Promise.” She said the words, but her stomach had already started churning. What she’d been so happy to hear mere minutes ago now sat heavily on her shoulders. He’d told her he loved her, but maybe it wasn’t enough. Maybe he was with someone back at State, and he hadn’t known how to tell Mac.
Pact with a Heartbreaker: A Best Friends to Lovers Summer Romance (Havenbrook Book 3) Page 5
