The Invitation

by Vi Keeland

  I was so fucking consumed with the idea of burying my face between her legs, that I couldn’t be gentle about getting her panties off. Reaching up, I gripped the flimsy material of her thong and tore it straight from her body. The gasp that spilled from her mouth was almost enough to make me come, and she hadn’t yet laid a finger on me.

  I nudged one of her legs wider and tossed the other up and over my shoulder. Her pussy was beautifully bare and glistening, making me salivate. I couldn’t wait to devour her. Flattening my tongue, I dove in for a long stroke, licking from one end to the other. When I reached her clit, I sucked it into my mouth and drew deep.

  “Ahh...” She arched off the bed.

  The sound made me wild. I was so amped up that it wasn’t enough to have my tongue in on the action alone. So I pushed my entire face into her wet pussy, using my nose, cheeks, jaw, teeth, and tongue. And while I was in there, I stopped to take a deep inhale. Later, I’d have to remember to see if Stella could develop this as one of her custom freaking scents—for my private collection only.

  Her hips bucked against me as I sucked and slurped, and when she cried out my name, I knew she was close to coming. So I slipped two fingers inside her. Stella’s muscles clamped down tight as I pumped in and out.

  When her back arched off the bed again, I reached up and pressed her hips to the mattress, keeping her immobilized as I continued my feast.

  She moaned. “Ah…I’m…ah…”

  I began to be concerned I might finish at the same time as she did. And if that were the case, my finale would take place in a pair of three-hundred-dollar slacks and be reminiscent of a teenage boy. But the sound of her losing control was just that fucking good, and I actually didn’t give a shit if it came to that, because there was no way in hell I could stop.

  Stella’s nails dug into my scalp. She yanked my hair as she moaned louder and louder and then…all of a sudden she let go, and I knew she was coming.

  “Oh, God… Ohhhhhhh…God…”

  I kept at it, lapping at her until every last quake had rolled through her body. Then I wiped my face with the back of my hand and crawled up onto the bed, hovering over her.

  Stella had squeezed her eyes closed tight, but the biggest smile stretched across her face. She threw one arm over her eyes to hide them. “Oh my God. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “What are you embarrassed about?”

  “I basically attacked you.”

  “And it was the best fucking thing that’s happened to me in as long as I can remember.” I peeled her arm away from her face, and she peeked one eye open. “Attack away anytime the mood strikes.”

  She bit her lip. “You’re…really good at that.”

  I smiled. “I’m really good at a lot of things. The night is just getting started, sweetheart.”

  She opened her other eye and her face went soft. “You called me sweetheart. I like that.”

  “Good.” I kissed her lips gently before pushing up off the bed.

  Stella leaned up on her elbows and watched me as I slipped into my shoes. “Where are you going?”

  “To my room.”

  “Why?”

  I walked back over and kissed her forehead. “To get the rest of the condoms. Two isn’t going to be nearly enough.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Stella

  I never slept this late.

  Quietly setting my phone back on the nightstand, I recalled the many reasons I’d slept until almost noon. How many times had Hudson and I had sex? Three? Four? It had been years since I had sex more than once in a twenty-four-hour period. Even at the beginning of things with Aiden, I could only remember a handful of times we’d had sex twice—and it was certainly never anything more than that. A grin spread across my face as I remembered last night—and early this morning.

  Hudson was insatiable. Actually, we both were. We’d done it with him on top, me on top, while spooning from behind… But my favorite had been early this morning while we were both lying on our sides and talking. I’ll never forget the connection we had as he glided in and out of me and we looked into each other’s eyes. It was quite possibly the most intimate thing I’d ever experienced. Even thinking about it now took my breath away.

  Still smiling at the memory, I decided maybe I’d wake up Mr. Sleepyhead with my mouth. I turned over, expecting to find Hudson sound asleep, but instead all I found was an empty bed.

  I leaned up on one elbow and called, “Hudson?”

  No answer.

  But now that I was awake, I needed to get up and answer Mother Nature. Climbing from the bed, my body ached. But I’d take a few aches and pains in exchange for the hours of pleasure any day of the week.

  After I finished in the bathroom, I decided to get my phone to see if Hudson had left me a message. But as I rounded the foot of the bed, I noticed something laying on his pillow—a white box with a red bow and a yellow sticky note attached.

  Had a conference call at eleven thirty. Didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be back when it’s over.

  Stay naked.

  H

  P.S. Let’s start writing it.

  Let’s start writing it?

  What the heck did that mean?

  I wasn’t sure, yet my smile beamed as I untied the red bow and slipped open the box. Inside was a beautiful, leather-bound book. It took me a minute to realize the significance, but when I did, my eyes welled up.

  “Let’s start writing it.” Last night at dinner, I’d told Hudson I’d struggled to be happy because things hadn’t worked out the way I’d envisioned them, that I needed to let go of the past and write a new story.

  God, first the most beautiful sexual experience I’d ever had, now a beautiful gift. A girl could really get used to this.

  For the next half hour, I practically floated while I took a shower and got myself ready for the new day. Just as I’d started to do my makeup, I heard the door to my suite open and close.

  “Hudson?”

  “Stella?”

  I chuckled. “I’m in the bathroom getting ready.”

  Hudson walked in carrying two bags. He held up one and spoke to my reflection in the mirror. “Breakfast.” He lifted the other bag. “Lunch. I wasn’t sure what you would be up for.”

  “If you have coffee in either of those, I’ll be your best friend for life.”

  He opened one bag and lifted a Styrofoam container. “I guess Jack’s out. I’ll have to let him know.”

  I smiled as I turned and accepted the coffee. “Thank you so much for the journal. It’s beautiful, and the sentiment really means a lot to me.”

  Hudson nodded. He pulled a second container of coffee from the bag and lifted the plastic tab from the top. “They also had diaries. But I wasn’t sure if you wrote in one or just preferred to snoop in other people’s.”

  “I’ve actually never written in a diary myself. Which is funny, because I bought that first one with the intention of writing in it. It just took me on an entirely different path.”

  “Oh, you take a different path alright…”

  I laughed. “Shut up. When did you get that anyway? You must’ve been up pretty early to go to the store and leave it there before I even woke up.”

  “I picked it up after I went for a run this morning.”

  “You went for a run? I’m lucky I made it from the bed to the shower.”

  Hudson chuckled. “Well, get done in here and come out and eat something so you have some energy. I want to get on the road to show you the sights so we can get back to the hotel early.”

  “Okay. I just need to dry my hair, so maybe ten minutes. Actually…better make that fifteen. I love it in this bathroom.”

  Hudson’s brows drew together. “You love the bathroom?”

  “Uhhh, yeah.” I waved my hands around to what I thought was obvious. “It’s about ten times the size of the one I have at home, has a bathtub, and look at all this beautiful lighting.”

  Hudson smiled. “I think you’re going t
o like my house.”

  “Are you saying you have a big bathroom with a tub?”

  He nodded.

  “You’re definitely my new best friend.”

  ***

  A hand holder.

  I never would’ve guessed.

  I smiled up at Hudson. He contemplated me suspiciously.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” I shrugged. “You’re holding my hand.”

  “Should I not be?”

  “No, I love it. I just wouldn’t have taken you for a hand holder.”

  Hudson shook his head. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, or I should be insulted.”

  We’d been walking along Hollywood Boulevard for the last half hour, reading the names of the stars on the street. So far today, we’d gone to Muscle Beach in Venice (I thought it would be fancier; the weights were actually all rusty.), the Hollywood sign (He tricked me into hiking…yuck.), and the Santa Monica Pier (Note to self—macho men would rather ride a rickety Ferris wheel than admit to being a little afraid of heights. Hudson’s olive skin turns a lovely shade of green.).

  “It’s just a coupley thing to do.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Is that what we are?”

  Hudson abruptly stopped walking. “Seriously?”

  “What? I didn’t want to assume just because of last night.”

  Hudson frowned. “Well, let me clear that up for you. We are.”

  I couldn’t hide the smile that grew on my face. “Okay…boyfriend.”

  He shook his head and started walking again.

  After another hour and a dozen or more blocks of walking, we went into the Roosevelt Hotel to a fancy-looking place that served burgers and the best truffle fries for dinner.

  “What’s your favorite food?” I waved a fry at him.

  “Easy. Macaroni and cheese.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. Charlie and I have tried…I think we’re up to forty-two different boxed kinds.”

  I laughed. “I had no idea there were forty-two different types of boxed mac and cheese.”

  “We make one most weekends she spends with me. We ran through the ones in the supermarket, so now I buy them online. She keeps a chart with our ratings.”

  “That’s so funny.”

  Hudson sipped his beer. “What about you?”

  “These truffle fries are a close second. But I’d have to say tortellini carbonara—the kind with peas and little pieces of prosciutto in it.”

  “You make it yourself?”

  I frowned. “No, my mom used to make it for me. She actually also made an amazing baked mac and cheese. I don’t have either of the recipes.”

  Looking down, I swirled the fry in the ketchup. It made me sad to think how long it had been since I’d spoken to my mom.

  Hudson must have noticed I’d gone quiet.

  “You mentioned you don’t talk to your dad,” he said. “Are you and your mom not close?”

  I sighed. “We haven’t spoken in more than a year. We used to be really close.”

  Hudson was quiet for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head. “Not really.”

  He nodded.

  I attempted to go back to eating and not ruin the day. I hated thinking about what had happened, much less talking about it. But now that the topic had come up, I knew I shouldn’t let the opportunity pass entirely. Telling Hudson at least some of what happened between Aiden and me and my family might help him understand my trust issues a little more.

  So I took a deep breath. “I told you my ex cheated on me, but I didn’t mention that my parents also betrayed me.”

  Hudson set down his burger and gave me his full attention. “Okay…”

  I looked down. “They knew about Aiden’s affair.”

  “And they didn’t tell you?”

  I looked down, feeling embarrassed. “No, they didn’t say a word. It was a mess.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell the rest of the sordid story.

  Hudson shook his head. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  I nodded. “Thank you. Honestly, in hindsight, it wasn’t Aiden who was so hard to get over. It was that I also lost my family at the same time.” I frowned. “I miss talking to my mom.”

  Hudson dragged a hand through his hair. “Do you think you can forgive her and move past it at some point?”

  For the last year, I hadn’t thought that would ever be possible. I’d been so bitter and sad about everything that, on some level, I might’ve held my parents as accountable as I did Aiden. Maybe it took me being happy for the first time in a long time, but today I didn’t feel so bitter, and I wasn’t sure I should hold a grudge against my family forever.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can forget. But maybe I could try to forgive. Would you be able to pretend it never happened if you were in my situation?”

  “I’ve never been in a similar predicament to say for sure, but as someone who’s lost both parents, I wouldn’t want to have regrets when they were gone. I don’t think forgiving your parents means you’re excusing their behavior. I think forgiveness is more about not letting it destroy your heart anymore.”

  I felt his words in my heart. “Wow. Where did you come from, Hudson Rothschild? That was deep and mature. The men I usually seem to attract are shallow and immature.”

  He smirked. “I seem to remember you found me at a wedding you crashed.”

  “Oh yeah…I guess I did. Well, at least one of us is mature.”

  For the next few hours, we enjoyed the Malibu sunset, good food and wine, and each other’s company. Now that I’d given in to my feelings, it felt like someone had put Miracle-Gro on them instead of just nourishing them with water. My heart was so full and content. And that feeling stayed with me throughout the night and all the way back to my hotel suite.

  I laid on the bed, watching Hudson undress and admiring the view. When he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on a nearby chair, I wasn’t sure where to look first—at his sculpted pecs, eight-pack abs, or the deep-set V that made my mouth water. Hudson unbuckled his belt and took down his zipper, causing my eyes to feast upon yet another of my favorite parts of his body—his sexy happy trail. There was so much to enjoy about this man, I thought maybe he should just stand there for a while, fully naked.

  He bent to step out of his pants, and I caught a glimpse of the ink that ran up the side of his torso. I’d seen it last night, but at the time, we’d been too busy ravishing each other for me to ask about it.

  I lifted my chin, pointing at the tattoo. “Is that someone’s heartbeat?”

  Hudson nodded. He twisted his body and lifted his arm to give me a better view. “My father had a great sense of humor and a very distinct laugh. It was a real belly laugh—sounded like it came from somewhere deep within him. Anyone who knew him recognized it, and it always made people around him smile—even strangers. He was in the hospital for the last week of his life. One day, I was visiting while he was getting a bedside EKG. He told some corny joke and started to laugh. The joke wasn’t even that funny, but the sound of his laughter made all three of us—the technician, my dad, and me—crack up. For some reason, we just couldn’t stop laughing. She had to redo the EKG because the reading had all these big spikes on it. The electrodes had picked up my dad’s heart laughing. I asked the nurse if I could have the printout she was going to toss away, and I got this a few days after he died.”

  “That’s so incredibly sweet.”

  Hudson smiled sadly. “He was a really good man.”

  “So where’s your scar?”

  “Scar?”

  “Last week, I said I’d never dated anyone with a tattoo or scar, and you said you had both.”

  “Ah.” He twisted his body the other direction and lifted his arm to reveal a jagged, three-inch line. “I have a few, but this one is probably the worst.”

  “How did you get it?”

  “Fraternity party. Drin
king, a slip and slide, and a stick hidden under the tarp.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Not my finest moment. It wasn’t that big at first. Jack helped me bandage it up, and then it split open wider when I continued to dive on the slip and slide.”

  “Why didn’t you stop after you got cut?”

  He shrugged. “We had a bet.”

  I shook my head. “Did you win, at least?”

  Hudson’s smile was adorable. “I did.”

  He finished getting undressed, and I continued to admire his amazing physique.

  Catching me staring yet again, Hudson squinted. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  I spoke to his body, unwilling to lift my eyes quite yet. “I wasted months going to bed alone when I could have been spending my time touching that. How would you feel about standing there for a while so I can take a good, long look? Maybe two or three hours? That should do.”

  He chuckled and finished taking off his pants before climbing onto the bed and hovering over me. Lifting my finger to his lips, I traced the outline. Hudson caught my hand and raised it for a soft kiss.

  “Why did you reject me for so long? And don’t insult me by saying it’s because I’m an investor in your business. We both know that’s a load of crap.”

  “You only asked me out once.”

  Hudson made a face that said you know you’re full of shit. “Semantics. You knew I was interested from day one. I left the ball in your court, but I still let you know I was interested often enough.”

  I sighed. “I know. I guess…I was just scared.”

  “Of what?”

  I shook my head. “My last relationship and its aftermath were really hard to move past. I’m scared of getting hurt again…scared of you...”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. You make me nervous in a lot of ways. Even now, Hudson. Most things in my life have seemed really great from the outside—my parents’ marriage, my engagement. I’m the type of woman who believes in a happily ever after, a fairytale. Sometimes that blinds me and keeps me from seeing things I don’t want to see. I thought I was an idealist, but after my ex burned me, it made me wonder if I was just a fool. Plus, you’re basically Prince Charming—a beautiful face, that body, successful, kind—when you want to be, mature, independent…” I shrugged. “You’re almost too good to be true, and I guess I’m afraid to fall for a fairytale again. You know, Fisher and I used to refer to you that way.”