Chapter 9
“It was just a little rat snake that had crawled under the seat to take a nap. They don’t bite.”
Audrey sent Hudson a withering glare. “It was a slithering thing at my feet.”
He wisely refrained from further comment, instead pulling a hamper and blanket from the canoe. Because, of course, he hadn’t gone overboard. No, just her.
Soaking wet and irritated with her own over-reaction, she unsnapped the life jacket and yanked it off, dumping it into the beached canoe. Now they were about to hike to…somewhere, and she was going to chafe all over the place.
“C’mon.”
With as much dignity as she could muster—which was to say, none—she headed in the direction he indicated. God, she was embarrassed. But it was a snake. Hadn’t he ever seen Indiana Jones? Didn’t he understand the horror?
“So, you were going to ask me something?” he prompted.
Oh, hell no. No way could she ask him now. She looked like a total spaz. She was not about to still ask him if he’d be interested in checking off some of those bases with her, attraction be damned. But God, she’d been thinking about his hands all during their little paddling lesson, and then she’d stayed hot and bothered—at least until her unplanned dunk in the lake. She’d even been a little bit jealous of Claudia Collingsworth for having had those hands on her. Okay, maybe a lot jealous. Audrey knew how stirred up Hudson’s kisses got her. She couldn’t stop wondering about the rest. When Sam had tossed out the idea of a flaming hot affair, Audrey hadn’t given it any serious thought. But now…
“Never mind. It was nothing.”
“You’re thinking awfully hard about nothing. And it’s making you blush.”
Damn her red-head’s complexion! Couldn’t a woman be embarrassed without announcing it to the world?
The little island was heavily forested, so she said nothing and concentrated on walking, so she didn’t add tripping over a root or a hole or her own damned feet to her list of mortifications for the day. After all the exertion the last few days, that required a lot more effort than she liked. The hike to the center of the island didn’t take more than five or ten minutes. It was a tiny island, after all. The little clearing reminded her of a fairy bower—which made her feel excessively romantic and stupid. Fairy bower? She was a scientist. A logical, rational professional. But the impression remained, with trees wrapping around the space in a way that suggested utter privacy.
Hudson flipped out the blanket and spread it out over the grass. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
“If I were a Disney princess, I’d open my mouth to sing and small woodland creatures would scurry to the edge to pay homage.”
He laughed. “You don’t strike me as the Disney princess type.”
“They were my guilty pleasure growing up. Intellectually, I get all the problems with some of the messages they put out there for girls, but I certainly never watched Beauty and the Beast and thought ‘oh hey, Stockholm Syndrome seems like a good idea’ or that I should change what made me me for the sake of some guy after watching The Little Mermaid. I just loved the stories and the music.”
“Which one is your favorite?”
“Honestly? Sleeping Beauty. Which ought to be ridiculous. Aurora has literally eighteen lines of dialog in the entire movie. And Tangled. I guess I relate to the whole princess removed from the normal world. And the overprotective parent vibe.” Why had she said that? It made her sound pitiful.
“I was much more into Shrek. An animated movie with fart jokes? It was great. Plus, Eddie Murphy. I love all things Eddie Murphy. I used to be able to quote The Nutty Professor word for word.”
Audrey snorted. She toed off her shoes and started to step onto the blanket.
“You might as well strip down and lay out your clothes to dry. They have to be uncomfortable.”
They were, but she didn’t move.
“If you hang them up now, they’ll probably be dry by the time we head back. Plus, it’s shady enough here, you shouldn’t burn,” he continued, peeking into the hamper.
She still didn’t budge.
“Unless you were lying about having a swimsuit on under there?”
She did have a swimsuit. A bikini. One that had once made her feel sexy. But that was before. She’d only packed it for camp because buying another seemed a waste of money, and she hadn’t really planned on doing any water stuff anyway because she had no intention of showing her legs. Ever. They invited too many questions, too much pity.
And yet she was thinking about being intimate with this man. That would require exposing her scars—both literal and metaphorical. Could she do that? Could she really trust him enough, let him in that far? Hudson knew what she’d been through. Part of it, anyway. They wouldn’t be a surprise to him. And maybe this was a good, safe way to test herself. To see how she felt about someone seeing her.
I can do this.
Before she could lose her nerve, Audrey tossed her hat onto the blanket and stripped off her shirt. She hung it on a branch, then unbuttoned her pants and slipped them off, too. But she couldn’t make herself turn around to see his face. Her heart pounded in a sickening rhythm, too loud in her ears, and her skin prickled with more than just gooseflesh. She wanted to grab up the blanket and wrap it around herself, anything to cover back up. But she stood in the silence, biting her lip, until she couldn’t stay quiet anymore.
“They basically had to rebuild my legs. Multiple surgeries and about twenty pounds’ worth of pins, rods, plates, new knees… It’s functional but not very pretty. Sort of Bride of Frankenstein. With better hair.”
Audrey jumped when Hudson’s hands skimmed down her arms. She hadn’t heard him move.
“You know what I see when I look at you?” he asked softly.
“No.” She could barely force the word out.
He turned her to face him, tipping her chin to force her to look up at him. Stubborn, she kept her eyes downcast, somewhere around his mouth.
“Strength. And that's the sexiest thing I can imagine.”
Her heart flipped. She wanted to believe that, but she just…couldn’t. “That’s sweet, but—”
“I’m not lying to make you feel better, Audrey.” He reeled her in, pulling her flush against his body until the truth of his statement nudged her in the belly.
“Oh!” Heat swept through her at the contact.
Audrey lifted her eyes to his and lost her breath. He wanted her. The huge erection was certainly a clue, but he could’ve been thinking about some hot model or a bikini car wash or any number of things that might turn him on. But he was looking at her, as if he wanted to devour her. It made her knees go weak. How was it he could see anything other than a woman broken?
Hudson cupped her cheek, sliding his hand into her hair. “Let me show you.”
Had she spoken aloud? Before she had a chance to think about it, he’d lowered his lips to hers. They’d shared several kisses over the past few days, some initiated by him, some by her. They’d varied from hot to playful to sweet. But this. This was something else entirely.
He made love to her mouth. It was all she could think as he slowly stripped away her anxiety and embarrassment, leaving nothing behind but needs. She realized, as he lowered her to the blanket, that her sexual experiences before had been pale substitutes for what could be. She’d thought this kind of pleasure was a fiction, a fairy tale. The sort of thing that existed only in dreams. If this was a dream, she didn’t ever want to wake up.
His hands roamed over her, impossibly gentle as he skimmed those calloused fingers across her skin. How could such big, powerful hands be so reverent? They made her feel cherished, electric. And when his palms cupped her breasts, she arched into the touch, desperate for more. He tore his mouth from hers, and she whimpered at the loss, until he pressed his lips to the column of her throat, thumbs stroking her nipples through the swimsuit. Everything in her went taut.
Audrey tipped her head back to give him better access
, threading her fingers into the hair at his nape as he kissed his way down to the little hollow above her collarbone and continued to massage her breasts. They were full and heavy in his hands, the nipples pearled tight and sensitive. With every brush of his thumbs, her sex pulled tighter.
“More,” she breathed and couldn’t even care that it came out a plea.
His fingers tugged at the knot of straps behind her neck until the bow released, then drew them down with slow deliberation. The sun on her bare breasts was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as he looked at her.
“Beautiful.”
He drew her into his mouth, circling her nipple with his tongue, and Audrey all but flew off the blanket. Hudson shifted, nudging one muscular thigh between hers, pressing right against her aching center, and, oh, that was better. Her hips began to move to the same, suckling rhythm he set with his mouth. Breath catching, she speared her hands in his hair, holding him to her when he shifted to the other breast. God, she was so close he was going to make her come, just from this.
“Hudson.” His name came out on a moan.
He worked one hand between them, cupping her. Audrey arched into the touch with a cry. So. Very. Close. She widened her legs and bucked into his hand. He came back to her mouth, thrusting his tongue against hers as he rubbed the heel of his palm against her mound, and she shattered.
He held her through the shuddering aftermath, bringing her down with long, drugging kisses, and easy strokes of his hands.
“Okay?” he asked.
No. She was pretty sure he’d just ruined her for all men, and they hadn’t even had sex yet. “That was…I don’t…You’re really good at that.”
Hudson chuckled and the rumble of it shot straight to her still quivering core. “Not done yet.”
“You’re not?” she asked weakly.
In answer, he blew on her nipples, still wet from his mouth, and she felt herself stir again. This just might kill her, but oh, what a way to go.
He kissed his way down her torso, lingering at the edge of her bikini bottoms. She wondered if he’d pull them off with his teeth. That mental image caused a fresh flood of warmth. But he didn’t take them off. Not yet, anyway. He ran a finger just inside the top edge. That only made her think of it going lower, deeper.
Oh yes, please.
But he didn’t do that either. Instead, he kissed his way down her hip to her thigh, taking his time, continually skimming those gentle hands along her skin. As he neared her knee, she tensed.
He paused to look up at her again. “Still okay?”
She wanted this, wanted what he was trying to give her. She couldn’t let her neuroses get in the way of that. “Yeah.” But she dropped her head back to the blanket, not ready to watch him as he worked his way down the rest of her legs, over all the scar tissue. She’d just focus on the sensation of his mouth, his hands. Nothing else. She closed her eyes.
He straightened her leg, lifting it up, and she waited for the feather-soft kisses. When none came, she murmured, “Don’t stop.”
Still nothing.
Was he waiting for some acknowledgment?
Audrey lifted her head to look down at him. He was kissing her, somewhere around her ankle. In dawning horror, she stared, watching him work his way back toward her knee.
Her throat went tight. “I can’t.” There were tears at the edge of her voice, but she couldn’t stop them.
Hudson’s attention snapped toward her, a frown bowing those masterful lips. “Audrey?”
“I can’t,” she repeated, feeling hysteria bubbling up in her chest.
He laid her leg down on the blanket, covering it with his palm in a gesture that was probably meant to be comforting. “It’s okay. It’s fine. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“No!” She sucked in a breath and let the rest out on a sob. “I can’t feel that. I can’t feel you touching me.”
~*~
What the hell had just happened?
Minutes ago, she’d been moaning with pleasure, gone limp with the aftermath of a good, hard orgasm. Hudson had been good with that. Great with it. She’d looked so uncertain, so self-conscious about her scars, he’d just wanted to do something to make her realize how desirable she really was. Hell yes, he wanted her. He was still breathing and she was…amazing. Not because of that devastating intelligence—though that was sexy, too—but because of what she’d endured, how she’d come out stronger and so full of thirst for life. Those scars on her legs represented excruciating pain, both from the accident and the surgeries and physical therapy after. She still hurt, though she didn’t let it slow her down. He had no idea how much being around him made her think of the accident, but he’d wanted to replace those thoughts, those memories, with pleasure—however much of it she’d allow. And now he’d gone and fucked it up. Instead of the pleasure, she’d remember this.
“Are you hurting?”
She shook her head, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. That just killed him. Hudson was pretty sure he’d rather be waterboarded than know he’d had anything to do with making her cry. He should’ve gone with his first instinct days ago and stayed away from her. This was just further proof that he wasn’t fit to take care of anyone right now. But it was too late to turn back. He’d let her pull him out of his funk, let himself feel like a normal guy, who could have an uncomplicated fling. Now, they were in this together, and he’d messed up. He had to do something.
Praying he wasn’t about to make this a thousand times worse, he stroked a hand down her leg, knee to ankle. “What do you feel?” He kept his voice calm, though his guts were tied in knots.
“I…nothing. It’s just numb.”
“Is it always numb?”
Audrey sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. She held the bikini top over her breasts, though she hadn’t retied it. “I don’t know. I still feel pain. How can I feel pain and nothing else?”
“Probably different nerves are responsible for those things.” With all the surgeries, it made sense that there was considerable nerve damage. He stroked it again with firmer pressure, massaging muscles gone tense. “Can you feel the pressure?”
“A little.”
“So, it’s not so much the muscles as the skin. You’re not feeling the surface stuff.”
“I guess.” She wiped at her eyes.
Taking that as a positive sign, he moved lower, running his hands over her bare foot. It flexed in his hands. “You felt that.”
“Yes. I couldn’t walk properly if I didn’t. Well, I couldn’t walk at all. I’m not sure what I do qualifies as proper.”
“You walk. That’s a miracle unto itself.” Shifting to her other leg, he repeated the process, touching, testing. The feeling came back somewhere around her knees in both legs. Very gently, he pressed a kiss at the threshold where she could still feel sensation. “Do you want me to stop?”
Audrey stared at him.
Hudson brushed his lips over the inside of the other knee. “We can get dressed, go on back to camp and pretend this didn’t happen.” Not that he was going to forget the sounds she made when she came at any point in this lifetime. “We can have lunch, as we planned. Or…I can keep going. I can remind you of what you very definitely still feel.”
She was frowning, looking down at his hands, and he realized he’d been idly rubbing them up and down her scarred calves.
He stilled, but didn’t stop touching her. “Sorry.”
“They…really don’t bother you, do they? The scars.” She sounded completely flummoxed by the idea.
“No. They’re a part of you—arguably an indicator of the strongest part—but they’re not all of you. I want you, Audrey. The whole package.” He didn’t have a right to want her. She was the sort of woman who deserved promises and forever. Someone who had his shit together and could stand by her. He wasn’t that guy. But right now, he could give her this. It had to be better than tears.
“Then don’t stop.” Throat working
, she let the top fall, brushing a hesitant hand along his cheek. It cost her. Hudson could see that in the faint tremble that shook her hand. But she was taking the leap, as she’d done with everything else he’d thrown at her this week. He sure as hell planned to make sure she enjoyed the ride.
So, he kissed her. He kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Like there was no end to camp in a week. He kissed her until he lost himself in the taste of her mouth, the scent of her sun-warmed skin. She went pliant beneath him, relaxing, accepting—and it felt like a victory. Moving down her body, he used his hands, his mouth to coax her up again, steeping her in sensation. When he hooked his fingers in waistband of her swimsuit, she moaned, “God, yes.”
He peeled it off, baring her. She was lovely with all that flushed, alabaster skin. Hudson wanted to feast on it, on her, until they both found oblivion in pleasure. Skimming his palms up the outsides of her thighs, he watched her face as he bent low to press a kiss to her belly. It quivered as he edged lower, tracing her hipbone with his tongue. He expected her to close her eyes. Instead, she watched him, parting her legs to accommodate his shoulders. He settled between them, sliding his hands beneath her ass to drag her into better position. And he held her gaze as he lowered his mouth.
Audrey’s breath exploded out, her body bowing in response to the slow lick of his tongue. She grabbed fistfuls of the blanket, gasping out his name. Her eyes stayed fixed on his, the pupils so huge, they swallowed up the blue. It was a shocking intimacy. More than the taste of her on his tongue, more than the feel of her heels digging into his shoulders. As if she saw that this wasn’t entirely about her, but about losing himself in her pleasure, too.
Hudson couldn’t look away. He soaked up every gasp, every sigh, every needy whimper. And when he pushed her over the edge again, heard her scream, he felt a surge of triumph.
Audrey went boneless, eyes closing at last. With one last kiss to the inside of her thighs, he shifted to stretch out beside her. Sleepy, sated, she curled against him, one hand reaching for the waistband of his shorts.