hands awaited
our arrival, took the reins and disappeared. Hudson took my hand and brought me
inside.
His house was a two story log cabin. A floor to length
picture window took up one entire wall in the living room, while a handmade,
stone fireplace took up another wall. A small fire crackled in it, giving the
large room a warm, cozy feel.
“Dinner will be about an hour. Care for some wine?”
“I’d love some,” I said as I continued to look around. His
place was amazing. For a moment, I could picture myself living here, making a
home and life with him. The thought of that had my breath catching in my
throat, and I had to remind myself, again, to slow down. Just enjoy what we
have right now. Don’t rush for something that may or may not happen. I’d made
that mistake with Phillip, rushed the relationship, got married before either
of us were ready. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Hudson came over to stand beside me, handing me a glass of
white wine. I took a drink, savoring the sweet burn. I generally preferred a
nice red, but this was good, too. “That’s me and my sisters,” he said, nodding
to a framed picture on the mantle. “My mother thought it would be cool to have
a group photo of them in their wedding dresses and me in a tuxedo. I think she
wanted to wait until I was married, too, but she got tired of waiting.” He
laughed.
I smiled and studied the picture. He and his sisters looked
so much alike – all of them with the same strong jaw and dimples. “You all look
so lovely.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I much prefer my jeans and cowboy
boots.”
I playfully nudged him with my shoulder, taking another sip
of my wine. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“It’s a surprise.” He took my glass from me and set it on
the mantle. Then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
Slipping my arms around his neck, I leaned into him,
welcoming him and his kiss like a woman starved for attention, which is exactly
how I felt. I craved him, craved the way he touched me and kissed me and looked
at me. “Hudson,” I whispered, teasing his lips with my tongue.
“Hmm?” He groaned.
“I want to make love.” As the words left my mouth, my face
burned and my heart raced. I’d always been the one to initiate sex in my
marriage – I had to if I wanted the intimacy. I later learned it was because
he’d been sleeping with other women, but the familiar feelings of rejection
surfaced.
Hudson jerked back as if he’d been hit. “Now?”
I nodded and bit on my bottom lip, afraid if I spoke again,
I’d be tempted to take it back and apologize profusely. Slowly, a smile spread
across his face, showcasing his dimples, and lighting his eyes.
“Don’t move.” He left the room and returned a moment later
with a thick quilt. He spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace and
motioned for me to join him. I slipped off my shoes and settled on the floor
beside him. “Is this okay?” he asked.
“It’s perfect.” My heart still raced, and my breath was
almost non-existent.
“Good. That’s how I want this to be. Perfect,” he whispered
a second before claiming my mouth in another soft kiss. But unlike all the
others, this didn’t stay soft, nor did he pull away. Instead, he guided me onto
my back, and slipped his hand up the hem of my shirt. His hand was warm and
rough in all the right places, a result of years of hard work. I arched into
him, wanting him to keep going. His hand travelled up, his palm cupped my
breast. I moaned.
“So soft,” he muttered, moving away from my lips and kissing
along my jaw, down my neck. I tilted my head to give him greater access,
running my fingers through his hair. He nipped at my earlobe, and I groaned. My
ears were my weakness, and if he kept it up, he’d learn that very quickly.
Hudson moved away from me and grabbed the hem of my shirt,
lifting it off over my head. As soon as he had it off, I reached behind my back
and removed my bra. My nipples hardened
our arrival, took the reins and disappeared. Hudson took my hand and brought me
inside.
His house was a two story log cabin. A floor to length
picture window took up one entire wall in the living room, while a handmade,
stone fireplace took up another wall. A small fire crackled in it, giving the
large room a warm, cozy feel.
“Dinner will be about an hour. Care for some wine?”
“I’d love some,” I said as I continued to look around. His
place was amazing. For a moment, I could picture myself living here, making a
home and life with him. The thought of that had my breath catching in my
throat, and I had to remind myself, again, to slow down. Just enjoy what we
have right now. Don’t rush for something that may or may not happen. I’d made
that mistake with Phillip, rushed the relationship, got married before either
of us were ready. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Hudson came over to stand beside me, handing me a glass of
white wine. I took a drink, savoring the sweet burn. I generally preferred a
nice red, but this was good, too. “That’s me and my sisters,” he said, nodding
to a framed picture on the mantle. “My mother thought it would be cool to have
a group photo of them in their wedding dresses and me in a tuxedo. I think she
wanted to wait until I was married, too, but she got tired of waiting.” He
laughed.
I smiled and studied the picture. He and his sisters looked
so much alike – all of them with the same strong jaw and dimples. “You all look
so lovely.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I much prefer my jeans and cowboy
boots.”
I playfully nudged him with my shoulder, taking another sip
of my wine. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“It’s a surprise.” He took my glass from me and set it on
the mantle. Then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
Slipping my arms around his neck, I leaned into him,
welcoming him and his kiss like a woman starved for attention, which is exactly
how I felt. I craved him, craved the way he touched me and kissed me and looked
at me. “Hudson,” I whispered, teasing his lips with my tongue.
“Hmm?” He groaned.
“I want to make love.” As the words left my mouth, my face
burned and my heart raced. I’d always been the one to initiate sex in my
marriage – I had to if I wanted the intimacy. I later learned it was because
he’d been sleeping with other women, but the familiar feelings of rejection
surfaced.
Hudson jerked back as if he’d been hit. “Now?”
I nodded and bit on my bottom lip, afraid if I spoke again,
I’d be tempted to take it back and apologize profusely. Slowly, a smile spread
across his face, showcasing his dimples, and lighting his eyes.
“Don’t move.” He left the room and returned a moment later
with a thick quilt. He spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace and
motioned for me to join him. I slipped off my shoes and settled on the floor
beside him. “Is this okay?” he asked.
“It’s perfect.” My heart still raced, and my breath was
almost non-existent.
“Good. That’s how I want this to be. Perfect,” he whispered
a second before claiming my mouth in another soft kiss. But unlike all the
others, this didn’t stay soft, nor did he pull away. Instead, he guided me onto
my back, and slipped his hand up the hem of my shirt. His hand was warm and
rough in all the right places, a result of years of hard work. I arched into
him, wanting him to keep going. His hand travelled up, his palm cupped my
breast. I moaned.
“So soft,” he muttered, moving away from my lips and kissing
along my jaw, down my neck. I tilted my head to give him greater access,
running my fingers through his hair. He nipped at my earlobe, and I groaned. My
ears were my weakness, and if he kept it up, he’d learn that very quickly.
Hudson moved away from me and grabbed the hem of my shirt,
lifting it off over my head. As soon as he had it off, I reached behind my back
and removed my bra. My nipples hardened
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