My heart squeezed. I could see from the look on his face how worried he was. I remembered Xander saying Micah owed him money, but I hadn’t remembered it being quite as much as that. Maybe they’d be able to work out a repayment plan? And then again, after Hudson had almost choked him in front of half the school. Maybe not. I wondered if there was any way I could help them before Hudson distracted me.
He was looking at me with such longing. “Is that what you wear to bed?”
I was wearing sleep shorts and a camisole with dog paws on them. They were very tight, and I wore no bra.
I folded my arms over my chest again and quirked him a look. “Yes. So?”
“Your PJs have dog paws on them. I thought you’d be a cat girl?” Hudson said with a sexy smirk.
“I am. Roger, meet Hudson, Hudson, meet Roger,” I said, picking our cat up off the floor where he was nuzzling against my legs. “My mom bought me these.”
“Roger? Funny name for a cat.”
I placed the cat back on the floor before moving to the bed to assess the damage. I took in the entirety of his injuries before heading back to the bathroom.
“Stay put,” I ordered.
“Yes, ma'am.” His reply made me smile. Ma’am?
Running my baby pink washcloth under the warm water, I took a deep breath.
Calm down. Hudson Gage is in your bedroom.If dad found out I was screwed.
As I walked back into my room, Hudson had pushed himself into a sitting position and had removed his hoodie.
Fucking hell! His body was ripped and bruised to fuck. I knew he was well muscled after seeing him in the pool, but the lamp in my room highlighted every carved contour. He was so beautiful with tanned skin and a smattering of fine hair surrounding his dark nipples. His abs were slightly creased from how he was sitting, and I wanted to run my hands over his stomach, trail my fingers down that ladder of hair that disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. They left little to the imagination, and my mouth parted as I wondered what he would look like down there. I’d felt it against my stomach that day he had kissed me against the lockers.
“Molly Miller. Are you checking out my junk?” Hudson chuckled.
My entire face ignited, and I drew my gaze away. “You don’t have to look away. I like it. You can touch it if you want?” He said, squeezing himself through his joggers with his hand.
I rolled my eyes. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Hudson then moved his hand and patted the bed, enticing me to sit close to him. I knew I had to, as it was the only way I could treat his wounds.
“Behave,” I cautioned.
“Scouts honour,” Hudson replied, holding both hands up and crossing his fingers. Yeah right. I couldn’t imagine this man ever being a Boy Scout.
With the wash cloth in my hand, I lowered my body as his hooded gaze ran over my bare legs.
The desire I saw in his eyes gave me courage and confidence. “You’re one to talk. See something you like?”
“Fuck yeah,” he whispered and shifted on the mattress. I almost rolled onto him from my seated position, but jammed my hand against the duvet to steady myself.
“Move back and hold out your arms,” I commanded.
“Fuck me, English. When did you get so bossy?”
He complied without more fuss, sitting up slightly. Now this was a Hudson I could work with.
The atmosphere between us was heavy but natural and unforced.
He flinched as I wrapped the flannel around my fingers and started to dab at his cuts.
“That’s not the only place that hurts?” he husked with a lopsided smile, motioning to the bulge between his legs. Why the heck was he hard? We hadn’t even done anything.
Because he’s lying on your bed and you can almost see your nipples beneath your top!
