by Vi Keeland
Hudson’s forehead wrinkled. “Refer to me what way?”
“As Prince Charming.”
He looked away for a moment before his eyes met mine. “I’m no Prince Charming, sweetheart. But I do like you very much.”
“Why?”
“Why do I like you?”
I nodded.
“A lot of reasons. I like that when I handed you that microphone at Olivia’s wedding, you rose to the challenge and then called me an asshole with fire in your eyes. You don’t back down. You’re fearless, even though you somehow think you’re a chickenshit. I love that even though you’ve been through some shitty situations, you refuse to let them get you down. Instead of letting all the negative crap in life eat at you, you made up some happiness system. I love that when you see a homeless woman, you give her a Hershey bar because you know it might make some chemical in her brain to help her feel a little better, even if for just a few minutes. I love that you’re creative and invented your own product, and you’re smart enough to write an algorithm I wouldn’t have a clue how to formulate. And I love that you’re stubborn and don’t give up.”
He looked down at my body and then took a second to examine my face before shaking his head. “All of that, plus what you look like. The better question is, what reason would I have not to like you?”
My eyes started to water. Hudson leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. “Do you feel scared right now?” he whispered.
My pulse raced. “More than ever.”
He smiled. “Good.”
“Good? As in you want me to be afraid?”
“No…but at least I’m not alone in this. We’re only afraid of the things that mean the most to us.”
I cupped his cheek. “I’m so glad you waited me out.”
“I knew you’d be worth waiting for.”
Hudson pressed his mouth to mine in a passionate kiss. We’d spent a large portion of the last twenty-four hours in this bed with our mouths intertwined, yet this kiss felt different—more filled with emotion than ever before. He held my face between his hands, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. But what started slow, quickly heated up. Our kiss became wild and fervent as we helped each other shed our remaining clothes.
There was a frenzied feeling in the air. Still, something about the way Hudson looked into my eyes told me he knew I was still fragile in many ways. Our gazes never broke as he lined himself up at my entrance and pushed inside of me. Hudson was thick, and it had been over a year since I’d had sex until last night. So he took his time, going slowly as he sank deeper with each measured thrust. Once he was fully seated, he circled his hips, and I could feel his pelvis press against my clit. It felt so good, so perfectly right. My heart was as full as my body, and my emotions became almost impossible to hold in. Tears prickled at my eyes, which I shut in an attempt to hold them back.
“Open, sweetheart.” Hudson’s voice was hoarse.
My eyes fluttered back open and met his. What I saw made it impossible to hold back the tears. Hudson’s eyes were as brimming with emotion as mine. We stayed that way, connected in every way possible, as our orgasms built. Not wanting the moment to end, I tried to hold back as his thrusts grew harder and faster. But the sounds echoing through the room did me in. Our wet bodies slapped against each other as he fucked me with his body and soul.
“Hudson…”
His jaw strained as he kept going. “Let it go…let it all go.”
And I did. With a voracious cry, my body took over for my mind, and waves and waves of ecstasy ran through me. Just as it started to ebb, Hudson’s orgasm hit, and the heat of him spilling into me made my body continue to ripple with shock waves.
After, I had no idea how he could even hold his head up, much less still be semi-hard as he glided in and out of me.
“Wow…that was…”
Hudson smiled and kissed me softly. “Too good to be true,” he whispered.
I smiled back, and a little bit of hope sparked inside me.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one man who didn’t let me down.
CHAPTER 24
Stella
Sixteen months ago
“Do you know what Drummond Hospitality is?” I asked.
Aiden was sitting in the living room of his apartment grading papers while I sat at the kitchen table going through my emails. “Hmmm?”
“It’s on your credit card statement for a hundred-and-ninety-two dollars. The other charge I recognize.”
Aiden’s eyes narrowed. “How did you get my credit card bill?”
“It comes to my email now. Remember a few months ago, I said I’d gotten a notice that Bank of America was going paperless, and you’d have to opt out if you wanted paper statements from now on? You asked me to have it sent to my email since everything goes to spam when you use your work email.”
“I thought you were referring to our joint bank account statement.”
I shook my head. “No, your credit card.”
“How long has it been going to you?”
I shrugged. “Two months, I think? Half the time you don’t have any activity. You rarely use your card. Last month it was a zero balance.”
The look on Aiden’s face troubled me. “Is it a problem?” I asked. “Do you not want me to see what you’re charging or something?”
He tossed his pen on top of the pile of papers and looked away. “Of course not. I just wasn’t aware that I wouldn’t be receiving the paper bill anymore.”
“Okay…well, do you know what that charge is? Drummond Hospitality?”
“No idea. The only thing I charged was dinner when we went to Alfredo’s a few weeks ago. It must be a mistake. I’ll go online and dispute it later.”
“Do you want me to do it since I’m online anyway?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.”
Something didn’t sit right. But I let it go since Aiden and I had already had a few fights about my suspicions over the last few months. There’d been the time I saw an odd text on his phone, and then another time he’d said he was going to his office at the college on a Saturday to work on grades, which he normally did from home. I’d decided to surprise him with lunch since he’d been working a lot, and he hadn’t been there. Then recently he’d come home smelling like perfume, and he’d gotten defensive when I’d asked him why—yelling that if I didn’t have our entire apartment constantly smelling like perfume samples for a business that didn’t exist, his clothes wouldn’t smell like a cheap whorehouse.
Since I always gave him the summary of the diaries I read, he knew the woman in the diary I’d been reading was cheating on her husband, and he convinced me that I was seeing things that weren’t there because of how ridiculously involved I got with the people I read about. Even now, I wondered if maybe he was right. Just last week, I’d read an entry where Alexandria had written about her husband questioning a charge on their credit card bill. She’d reserved a hotel suite for one of her rendezvous with Jasper, and then he’d paid cash when they checked in. But the hotel had accidentally done a duplicate charge.
So I chalked my paranoia up to what Aiden had warned me about. It wasn’t any different than if I’d watched a horror movie and suddenly needed to check under my bed before I climbed in. The stress of what you’re putting in your mind causes your brain to go places it wouldn’t normally go.
“Okay,” I said. “I think you can just pay the restaurant part of the bill, then. It’s more than the minimum payment anyway.”
“Fine.” Aiden went back to grading papers. But a minute later, he said, “I’ll probably remove the card from electronic billing and go back to having my statements come in the mail. I like to have paper copies for tax purposes since I sometimes buy things for work.”
Again, why did that bother me? His reasoning made total sense. I really was looking for monsters under my bed and needed to stop. “Sounds good.”
A month later, I’d forgotten all about the credit card bill. Aiden and I had ju
st gotten back from meeting one of his colleagues for drinks, and I was staying over at his place. On our way upstairs, I grabbed the mail out of the mailbox. In the pile was his credit card statement from Bank of America.
I set the mail on the table, keeping that envelope in my hand. “How did that dispute go with Bank of America?”
Aiden’s eyes dropped to the bill, and he plucked it from my hands. “Fine. They reversed it.” He tucked the bill into his sports jacket’s inside pocket.
Once again, I had no idea why him taking the bill bothered me. But it did.
Aiden walked toward his bedroom. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“Okay.”
While he was gone, I poured myself a glass of merlot and tried not to give it any more thought. Though this week I’d read an entire diary entry about how stupid and trusting Alexandria’s husband was. She seemed to enjoy almost getting caught and being able to lie her way out of things…
I knew I was most likely being ridiculous. But last month I’d stayed awake half the night after the silly credit card thing had weighed on me. Aiden wouldn’t need to know I’d gone online to take a peek at his bill. And once I did that, I’d be able to put everything to bed, once and for all.
Though…I’d still be violating his trust by double-checking, even if he had no idea about it. So while I tried to talk myself out of doing what I so badly wanted to do, I went to the bedroom to get changed instead. I opened Aiden’s dresser to get one of his old T-shirts, and tossed my jeans and blouse on a chair in the corner. On my way out to the living room, Aiden’s sports jacket caught my attention from the open closet door. I could hear the shower water still running in the adjoining bathroom, so I walked over and took it down. But instead of rummaging for the credit card bill, I brought the jacket to my nose and inhaled deeply. The unmistakable smell of jasmine filled my nose. Jasmine was not a scent I had at home for my Signature Scent samples. It wasn’t even one I’d been working with lately.
The room grew still, and it took me a minute to realize it was because the shower water had stopped. Shit. I quickly hung the jacket back in the closet and left the bedroom. Panic overwhelmed me. There was no way I’d be able to sleep tonight with the way I was feeling, nor would I be able to lie next to Aiden and pretend everything was fine. It was no longer a question of whether I was going to violate his trust and sign into his credit card online. I had to in order to keep my sanity.
My fingers shook as I called up the website on my phone. The damn thing took forever to load, and every two seconds I glanced up at the half-closed door to our bedroom. When the data finally populated, I scrolled to this month’s bill. Relief flooded me when I saw there were no charges at all. Overwhelmed with guilt, I went to sign off, but then I noticed the payments section had a payment of $261. I figured it was probably just the way they showed a credit given for that incorrect charge, but since it left a niggling feeling, I clicked to check.
And froze seeing it was an actual payment made weeks ago from a bank account ending in 588. I felt the blood draining from my face. That was Aiden’s checking account.
It had to be a mistake. I clicked over to the disputes tab. No disputes in the last ninety days. Feeling freaked out and lost, I closed the website and did something I should have done a month ago. I Googled Drummond Hospitality.
The results sent my heart into my throat.
Drummond Hospitality is the owner of four New York City boutique hotels.
CHAPTER 25
Stella
“This I could certainly get used to…” I’d woken up to find Hudson standing at my stove, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a backward baseball cap. His sculpted back was so muscular and tan. I wrapped my arms around his stomach and squeezed him from behind, placing a kiss on his shoulder.
“I just got back from a run and haven’t showered yet. You’re probably kissing dried sweat.”
“Pretty sure my skin isn’t much different after last night.”
Hudson turned and wrapped his arms around my waist. The dirty smile on his face told me he was recalling just how sweaty we’d gotten.
He smirked. “You broke the bed.”
I pulled back. “I didn’t break the bed; you did.”
“Pretty sure you were the one on top of me when the frame gave way.”
“Maybe, but you weren’t just lying there. You top from the bottom, you know.”
Hudson chuckled. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You might appear to let me take control, but you never really give it up.”
His face changed, and he looked a little concerned. “And you don’t like that?”
I grinned. “No, I like it a lot. But that means you contributed to breaking the bed.”
Hudson smiled and swatted my ass. “Go sit. Pancakes are almost done.”
“Okay.”
The week since we’d gotten home from California had been absolute bliss. Hudson and I were inseparable. We worked late every night getting things for Signature Scent ready, and we alternated between sleeping at his house in Brooklyn and my apartment here in the City. I probably should’ve been concerned that we were spending too much time together, but I was too happy to let anything spoil it.
Hudson set a plate in front of me.
I laughed. “This is adorable.”
He’d made one big pancake and decorated it into a smiling sun with halved strawberries forming pointed sunrays and bananas and strawberries creating a face.
“That’s how Charlie likes it. But don’t be too impressed. It’s the only dish I make other than macaroni and cheese. I don’t want you to get your expectations up.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
Hudson could’ve sucked at most everything else and I’d still be swooning over him based on how thoughtful he was—and how incredible in bed. To say I was falling for this man would be an understatement. A few times this week, I’d caught myself sitting at my desk randomly smiling. I hadn’t even been thinking about anything in particular. I just felt…happy.
“In case that doesn’t fill you enough…” Hudson set a banana next to my plate.
I was just about to say I’d never eat pancakes and a banana when I saw the ink on the yellow skin: I’m bananas about you.
When I looked up, Hudson winked and went back to the stove as if he hadn’t just turned my insides into a pile of mush.
He looked back over his shoulder, pointing to my plate with a spatula. “Eat. Don’t wait for me. It’ll get cold.”
Just as I put the first bite into my mouth, my front door swung open.
“Honey, I’m home!”
Shit. Fisher. I’d been single ever since he moved into the apartment next to me.
Hudson turned around, and Fisher caught sight of him and froze. “Crap. Sorry, man.”
“It’s fine. Come on in.”
Fisher looked over at me and I nodded, so he walked into the kitchen.
Hudson extended his hand. “Hudson Rothschild. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”
Fisher shook. “I guess the wedding doesn’t count. Fisher Underwood.”
Hudson pointed to the table with the spatula. “Have a seat. Stella already filled me in that feeding you is part of the package deal I get with her.”
Fisher smiled. He swiped a handful of blueberries from the open container next to the stove and popped a few in his mouth. “You have my blessing to marry him.”
Hudson and I both laughed.
He made Fisher a plate of pancakes with a side of fruit, but not the fancy smiling sun he’d made me. Surprisingly, breakfast wasn’t awkward once the three of us were at the table.
Fisher shoved almost a half a pancake into his mouth. “So, what are you guys up to this weekend?”
“Hudson has his daughter. I have a few errands to run, but other than that, I’m open. You going to be around?”
“I was thinking about hitting the flea market,” Fisher said. “It’s my paralegal’s
birthday next week, and she loved the handmade ceramic mugs you picked out for her last year, so I figured I’d go back and see what else they have.”
“Oh, awesome. Maybe I’ll come.”
Hudson’s forehead creased. “I thought we were taking Charlie to the park. You said something about an ancient playground.”
I thought back to the conversation we’d had earlier. “You said you were thinking of taking Charlie to Central Park, and I asked if you’d ever taken her to the Ancient Playground. I didn’t realize you wanted me to come, too.”
“I guess I just assumed you would…”
“Alright, well, I’d love to spend time with you and Charlie—if you don’t think it’s too soon.”
Hudson shook his head. “I don’t think she’s ready to see you in my bed yet, but she needs to start spending time with us to lead up to that, right?”
Wow. It gave me a fuzzy feeling in my belly to know I wasn’t alone in seeing a future for us. Reaching over, I squeezed his hand.
“That sounds great.”
“I’ll tell you what, I have to stop home before going to pick her up at two. Why don’t you guys go to the flea market, and we can meet up at the park after?”
I looked over at Fisher, and he shrugged. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
After we finished eating, Fisher left, and Hudson took a quick shower before putting the clothes he’d worn to work yesterday back on. I watched from the bedroom door as he tugged on one of his socks. He must have sensed me there because he spoke before even looking up.
“Think we could keep a few things at each other’s places? So maybe I won’t have to wear day-old socks and a suit for my Saturday morning walk of shame back home?”
I smiled, and a warm feeling ran through me. “I’d like that a lot.”
