Hudson caught it, brought to his mouth for little, nibbling kisses. “No.”
Her eyes blinked open, not dazed at all despite the lethargic tone. “But what about you?”
“This wasn’t about me. Today is all about you.” His raging hard-on would fade. Eventually. He wasn’t about to take advantage of her vulnerability. She needed some time to settle and process.
“That hardly seems fair.”
He stroked a lazy hand from her waist to her hip, enjoying that she didn’t seem self-conscious now. “I promise, I enjoyed that almost as much as you did.”
“What did you get out of it?”
His lips curved, and he pressed another kiss to her bare shoulder. “The satisfaction of a job very well done.”
“Cocky. But accurate.” She closed her eyes and rode out another shudder. “So very accurate.” Patting his chest, she rolled away, tugging her swimsuit back on.
There were still shadows in her eyes. He wanted to say something, to ask—shit, he didn’t know what. How she was feeling? If she was really okay? But he didn’t want to bring up the whole thing again and make it worse. So, he said nothing, watching her. As they fell on the picnic like they hadn’t eaten in a week, Audrey said and did all the right things, laughing and joking with him. But as they packed up to head back to camp, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her light was just a little bit dimmer.
Chapter 10
Audrey couldn’t sleep. Restless, she retreated to the pottery studio. Probably there was some rule about being in here at night, without staff supervision. But she’d come often enough that she knew the ropes, how all the equipment worked. She wouldn’t break anything. She just wanted some quiet time alone with the clay, to feel it beneath her hands. Switching on just a couple of the lamps on low, she perched on the stool and turned on the wheel. The steady whir of it soothed her. This was better than all the therapy she’d had after the accident. There was a distinct possibility she’d need a crate to pack up all the pieces she’d made since she got here.
She ached, in body and mind, both from overdoing it the last several days and from the discovery of yet another loss. There’d been so many in the wake of the accident. She didn’t know why this one felt so huge, especially when she hadn’t even known it was an issue until today. But it made her feel somehow incomplete. Yet another sign of being broken.
Hudson didn’t think she was broken. And he’d certainly gone above and beyond to show her that she could absolutely still feel everywhere it counted. And dear God, how she’d felt. Just the thought of his mouth on her had her going wet and achy again. He’d given her the best orgasms of her life. She had the beard burn on her thighs to prove it. What did some lasting nerve damage mean in the face of that?
But he hadn’t taken anything for himself. She didn’t know how to feel about that. In truth, she didn’t know how she felt about any of this, and for once her scientist’s mind wasn’t keen on analyzing it. She didn’t want to be in this alone, didn’t want to be the only one overwhelmed with feelings that were far too complex for a mere camp fling. She was in over her head, and she was deathly afraid that even Hudson couldn’t save her from this.
The outside door opened. Audrey braced to explain her presence to camp security, but lost her train of thought when Hudson stepped into the room, as if summoned by her thoughts.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Had she become so predictable? Maybe. She’d been in here every day since camp started.
He crossed over to lean against a bench, looking mouth-watering and sexy in low-slung jeans and a T-shirt. Beneath her hands, the vessel she was drawing up began to dip. In an effort to save it, she switched her attention back to her project and said nothing.
“You okay?”
She jerked her shoulder in a shrug, keeping her focus on the quiet whir of the wheel and the clay.
“I’m sorry.”
Her gaze flickered to his, and she managed a small smile. “For what? The two mind-blowing orgasms? I think we both know I enjoyed them.” Just looking at him had her legs going loose and heat gathering low in her belly. She’d happily spend the next week in his bed.
Hudson shifted. She wasn’t used to seeing him as anything but fully self-assured and confident. “No. I just…I don’t know if I handled things the best way today, and I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
He was so sweet, and he wasn’t the kind of guy you expected sweetness from. She didn’t know why he cared, but it was obvious he did. And that did something to her, warming a long cold place in her chest. She could get used to that. Which was foolish, as there was no room for a future with him. Regardless of what choice she made, neither job option was anywhere close to Syracuse. She wasn’t even sure how she’d feel going anywhere near the site of the accident. Not that it mattered. They hadn’t broached the subject of whether this could be more than whatever it was. Come next week, they’d both go back to the real world, and they’d both have to find a way to be okay with that.
Because he seemed to need the reassurance, Audrey worked up a smile. “There’s no need for apologies. I’m fine.”
“You’re upset or you wouldn’t be in here in the middle of the night.”
She could’ve pointed out what his own nocturnal wanderings said about his mental state, but deflection wasn’t going to work on him. “I’m not upset.” Being upset with reality was pointless.
“I know you better than that.” The irritating truth was that he did. He understood her in a way few people ever had
But she didn’t want to get into that. “Ever done pottery?”
“No.”
“It’s very therapeutic. Come sit with me. Get your hands dirty.”
She didn’t think he’d really do it. But after only a moment’s hesitation, he crossed the room. She opened her mouth to tell him where all the supplies were located, but before she could speak, he’d dragged the stool from the next potter’s wheel and sat behind her. It wasn’t at all what she’d meant, but what red-blooded woman could sit in a pottery studio for a week and not have at least one fantasy about a Patrick Swayze in Ghost moment? So, Audrey went with it. “Give me your hands.”
The hardness of his chest pressed into her back as he leaned forward, stretching his arms toward the wheel. She laid her hands over his and knew she’d be adding this to the roster of fantasies she’d begun to collect about them. She pressed his palms against the clay, deliberately collapsing the shape she’d begun in on itself. Starting over.
“I messed it up.”
She thought maybe he was talking about more than the vase. “No. It was just a first attempt. Sometimes it takes a few tries to get it right.” Reaching over, she dribbled more water on the clay. “What does it feel like?”
“Cool. Slick. There are lumps, but I can feel them smoothing out under my fingers.”
Audrey felt her own rough edges smoothing out as his warm breath brushed her nape. “I love that feeling. It’s very Zen. Like no matter how much of a mess things might be, if you stick with it, apply consistent pressure and effort—” She cupped his fingers and used them to mold the clay. “—eventually things get better.” Reaching to the center of the lump, she pressed a thumb in, guiding his hands to draw it into a bowl shape.
“Not everything does.”
“No,” she agreed. “Sometimes things are just broken.” She brought their hands in again, collapsing the shape.
“You aren’t.” The fierceness made her smile.
Because she didn’t want to do anything else, she let herself relax back against him, let herself have the illusion that she’d always have this strong body to lean on. That idea was as seductive as his very talented mouth. “Not in any important way, no. It’s not how I think of myself most of the time. But sometimes something happens that reminds me.”
“Being around me this week has to be one gigantic reminder. I didn’t think about that before today.” His tone dripped with a regret that shocked h
er.
“No. You don’t remind me of the accident. Not how you’re thinking. You remind me that I’m still alive. That I’m still perfectly capable of living a full life. I don’t feel broken when I’m with you. Because when you look at me, you actually see me. Not the aftermath of the accident. Not the girl genius. Me.” He had from the beginning. Turning her head, she met his eyes and swallowed against a throat gone suddenly tight. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you when camp is over.”
“Likewise.” He flexed his fingers to curl with hers. Neither of them looked at the clay.
“Hudson.”
“Yeah?”
The words piled up like a logjam in her throat, but she forced them out anyway. “Tell me this isn’t just me.”
He shook his head. “It’s not just you.”
Something loosened around her heart at that, even as a part of her thought of the ticking time clock. They had only days left together. How could that possibly be enough? “I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to keep this simple.”
“Because we’re not.” He dropped his brow to hers. When he spoke again, his voice was deceptively light. “You know how you survive a camp romance?”
“How?” She needed all the survival tips she could get, because she knew that walking away from him, from this, would be brutal.
“You take the time you have and don’t talk about the end of camp.”
Accept that this was time out of time and embrace it. If that was the choice, she’d already made hers. Maybe she’d made her choice that first night on the pier. “Okay.”
Hudson angled his head slightly. “Okay?”
“Then I’m all in. I want you—all of you—for whatever time we have left.”
~*~
Of course, Audrey would choose to seize the day. Hudson should’ve realized that when he’d offered up the accepted wisdom for surviving camp romances. But there’d been a part of him hoping that she’d do what he couldn’t and stop this thing between them before hearts got involved. Instead she’d offered him everything he wanted—for the next week, at least.
If this were a normal camp fling, following through would be a no-brainer. She was a beautiful woman, and he still had a pulse—currently drumming in his chest with anticipation. But this wasn’t just a camp fling. They’d both already admitted to feeling more than they should, and taking this step would certainly reinforce that. There would be no going back, and he was positive that the week wouldn’t be enough. But it wasn’t in him to deny her anything. Not now. She was the only one who could still pull back. Hudson searched for the right words to get her to think about this one last time, without making her feel like it was a rejection. “Is that a good idea?”
She understood. Of course, she understood. “I’ve already told you I don’t expect a permanent happy ending.”
Maybe. But she deserved one. And that wasn’t something he could give her—no matter how much he was starting to want to.
At his continued hesitation, she shifted, lifting her hand to his chest. “I’m not living my life for the future anymore, Hudson. I’m living it for the now. Because the now is the only thing you’re ever guaranteed to have. You gave that back to me.” She leaned into him, lifting her mouth a whisper from his. “Let me give this to you.”
Right or wrong, he wasn’t strong enough to walk away from this, from her. He started to lower his mouth to hers, then paused, holding his hands up. “Maybe after we wash off the mud.”
Audrey blinked, then looked down where her palm had left a perfect print on the center of his t-shirt. Lips quirking, she slid off the stool, switching off the pottery wheel and heading for the sink. “Practicalities first.”
She detoured to lock the door to the studio.
Hudson lifted a brow. “Here?”
“Unless your roommate is sleeping in someone else’s cabin tonight?”
“Fair point.” He ran through a quick mental list of camp locations for clandestine sex. Firefly Falls was too much of a hike and everywhere else he could think of carried too much risk of being caught. If they were doing this, the last thing he wanted was to be interrupted. Pottery studio it was.
He came up behind her at the sink, thrusting his hands beneath the running water, effectively trapping her. She squirted soap on her hands. Hudson pressed closer, nestling his erection against her luscious ass as he took those hands in his and slowly massaged the clay off.
Audrey hummed low in her throat and dropped her head forward. “This makes me wonder what magic you can work in a shower.”
“We’ll add it to the list.” Taking advantage, he pressed a kiss to her exposed nape. “Personally, I really want the luxury of making love to you in a bed.” And not just any bed, he realized. His bed. At home. It shocked him how easily he could picture her there, her hair spread out on his pillow, her body splayed out and limp from pleasure. But he didn’t just see her in his bed. He saw her in his life. Cooking with him in his kitchen, laughing with his mom and sister, teasing the other guys at the fire house.
Audrey unzipped his jeans and slid her hand inside, wrapping those hot little fingers around his length, effectively wiping out his domestic fantasy. Hudson cursed, his hips bucking into her hand. Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “Oh, we’ll find time for a bed. Because you’ve had your hands and mouth on every inch of me, and I really want to return the favor.”
Whatever blood was left in his head drained south, as he imagined that pretty mouth wrapped around him, those big blue eyes staring up at him as she sucked him deep. Yeah, he’d perform whatever blackmail or magic was required to get them a bed. Preferably one where they wouldn’t be interrupted for a solid twenty-four hours. That might be enough to slake this vicious thirst for her. For a little while.
“Hudson?”
“Yeah?” he croaked.
“You’re wearing way too many clothes.”
“So are you.”
They dove at each other, tugging and tossing between desperate, fevered kisses, until they both stood naked. He watched, gratified as her eyes drank in his body, her gaze skimming down his chest to the jut of his erection.
“You’re beautiful,” she said.
“That’s my line.”
Nostrils flaring, she reached out to run a finger along the indentations of muscle at his hips. “I don’t know what these are called, but they melt my brain. All I can think about is licking them.” She bent and did just that, trailing the tip of her tongue along the groove from his hip on down to—
Hudson gently but firmly grabbed her head to keep her from moving further south.
Audrey looked up at him with a faint pout. “Turnabout is fair play.”
“Later. When we manage that bed.” Not that he thought recovery would be an issue. It seemed he’d been at least semi-erect from the moment they’d met. But he wanted to be inside her the first time he came. With that in mind, he dug his wallet out of his jeans and retrieved the condom.
Audrey snatched it from his hands and ripped it open.
“You first,” he said.
“I’ve already been twice today, and I’ve pretty much been wet ever since. We go together this time.” To end the discussion, she sheathed him.
He lifted her up onto an empty counter, stepping between her thighs and pulling her to the edge. Skimming his hands from her knees to her hips, he searched for some control. This wasn’t how he’d imagined their first time. It had been a very long time for her. He’d wanted to give her some romance, some tenderness.
But Audrey wrapped her fingers around his cock, positioning him at her entrance and lifting her mouth to his. “Now. Please, Hudson, I need you inside me now.”
He slipped slowly inside her. She was tight, her inner muscles already beginning to ripple around him as he retreated and pressed in again, then again, achingly slow, until he was buried in all that wet heat. Nothing had ever felt more perfect than the grip of her body around him. He held still as she a
djusted to him, dragging his focus to her face. Her eyes were closed, her breath held.
Taking a hard grip on his own desire, Hudson lifted a hand to her cheek. “Audrey? You okay?”
Those eyes opened and the blue was almost swallowed by her pupils. “You feel so good,” she moaned, hands digging into his shoulders. “More.”
As relief surged through him, he took her mouth and began to move. She gave as good as she got, rocking against him until his control hung by a thread.
“Deeper.” To emphasize the order, she wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed.
Surrounded by her body, her scent, her vitality, Hudson lost it. Gripping her hips, he pounded into her, grinding against her clit with every thrust, chasing her fire with fevered intensity, until they were both gasping, groaning, lost to the pleasure. Her head dropped to his shoulder and she bit down to hold in the scream as she broke apart in his arms. The feel of her teeth, the clench of her body, ripped away the last of his control. It dragged him over the edge, until he poured out his own shuddering release.
They stayed that way, still joined, for long minutes, as ragged breathing eased. He came back to himself, registering the feel of her sweat dampened skin stuck to his, the perfect weight of her in his arms. He felt alive for the first time in ages. On the heels of that realization came the barest edge of guilt. He was alive.
At last, Audrey lifted her head and brushed her lips over his. “Oh yeah, we have to find a bed.”
Hudson huffed out a laugh with what breath he had left. Which was amazing. She was amazing. And he intended to enjoy that for however much time they had left.
Chapter 11
“Sooooo, you got in awfully late last night.” Sam’s sing-song voice greeted Audrey as she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.
“So I did,” she confirmed, moving across to pull fresh underwear out of her bag.
“And?”
“And what?” Audrey asked, keeping her expression bland. “I was with Hudson.”
“Yeah, but were you with him?”