“There hasalwaysbeen a rift between me and Claire. It didn’t start with you, and it won’t end with you. She is going to face the consequences of her own actions.”
“And what about us?” I dare to ask. My cards are out on the table now. Wren knows my side—she said she loves me, and with everything that’s changed in the last hour, I want to know where exactly we stand.
Wren looses another breath, her eyebrows raised as she thinks for a moment.
“Well, I said I love you, didn’t I?” When she looks back up at me, her mouth is turned upward into the cutest smirk I’ve ever seen. “So why don’t we start over, and we can start there?”
I can’t hold back the smile from taking over my face, no doubt putting my dimples on full display. Wren takes her index finger and pushes it into one gently before cupping my cheek with her hand and pulling my face towards hers.
Her lips find mine, soft and slow, as if she’s communicating to me a different message. Whatever’s still between us is real. It’s not based on physical chemistry alone, or lustful memories, it transcends past transgressions—it’s forgiveness, it’s acceptance. It’s real love. A love I once thought I had lost forever.
My hands find her waist and trail up the smooth skin of her ribs, finding the edge of her bra underneath her shirt. I push past the elastic band and brush my thumb over her peaked nipple. I’m gentle with her, like I’m handling something delicate. Because I feel like I am. Whatever happens, I never want to hurt Wren again, regardless of the reason.
She is precious to me.
“I love you, Wren Miller,” I murmur against her mouth, and she takes it in, breathing it back to me.
“I love you, too, Hudson Landry.” Her hand cradles the back of my head, and she digs her fingertips in, as if to try and grab my hair. “Now can you please fuck me already?”
CHAPTER 31
WREN
I’mdesperate for Hudson’s dick.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve been reminded of my repressed attraction for him. And now that I have some closure, some explanation for the way he ended things? Sure, it doesn’t solve everything, but having spent more and more time with him, I know he wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. Hudson isn’t the type of man who could intentionally hurt anyone.
I have confirmation there was more to the story, and it’s the final thing I needed to hear to let go of my resentment. I’m positive now that Hudson isn’t my number one enemy.
Claire is. She has been and always will be. It’s just how things are between us. I’m resolved to never let her prevent me from getting what I want, ever again. In this moment, that’s Hudson, in bed, inside me, fucking me until I’ve made up for the orgasms I could have been having over the last decade. That I’ve missed out on because of her.
Those last few words are Hudson’s undoing.
Now can you please fuck me already?
They fill the few inches of air between our bodies, charging it, making itfizzandcrackle. Like a palpable charge in the air right before a lightning strike.
“Oh, I’m going to fuck you, Miller. That’s a promise,” he drawls out, low and slow, ratcheting up the tension between us. “But first I’m going to make love to you the way I’ve wanted to for the last ten years.”
And then it snaps, and Hudson’s mouth collides with mine, his fingers tunnelling through my hair and tugging. He lets out a groan as our lips meld together. Our kiss is all lips and teeth and tongue. I’m desperate for him, but I can also tell by the way he kisses me he’s desperate for me, too.
Hudson unleashes, there’s no restraint, and I love it. I love him like this. It reminds me of our first night together. Our first time together. Our first times, ever. It was sloppy and messy and we were untethered, both discovering an untapped source of pure, carnal pleasure.
That’s what this moment feels like, although now we both know what we’re doing. It’s the same ravenous relishing of each other, but with more deliberate action, more purposeful movements.
I swear at a base level, it’s muscle memory, Hudson and I. We haven’t been together—not like this—in many years, yet it feels like we’ve been doing it our whole lives. Perhaps because it’s all I’ve thought about, and likely all Hudson has thought about, too. I’ve spent all our time apart replaying those shared memories, recalling every inch of Hudson’s body, remembering how it fit so snugly against every inch of mine.
His bodyis different now. He’s bigger, broader; his skin pulls tight over harder ridges, dips into deeper valleys. But his reaction to my touch is still the same. He still shivers and groans as my lips find his neck, sucking the soft flesh between my teeth. He breathes my name as my hand finds the thick bulge in his jeans, as if the very presence of the word in his lungs is vital to him.
Wren.
Not Miller. Not right now. Because this moment is no longer a game, us against each other. It’s a team-building exercise. It’s our official truce.
Hudson’s hands grip my waist as he pulls me back, so I’m straddling him as he lies back on the couch. Within seconds, our clothes are off, thrown into haphazard piles across the living room rug.
He kneads my breasts as I seat myself on top of him, eyes roaming over them and then trailing down my body, taking in my spread pussy. I could easily lift my hips, ease him inside me right now, but I stop. My skin prickles the way it does when you know someone is looking at you.
Hudson must feel it, too, because we both turn our heads at the same time to find Ruby lying with her chin resting on the rug, staring at us. Her tail is wagging. Adorable, sweet, innocent, dumb dog.
