His dark eyes dipped towards my hands. “Don’t let us stop you,” he said with an amused flick of his head. His voice was deep and throaty, a tone that was meant to touch.
Retaining eye contact, my fingers clutched both sides of the cotton.
Seeing him there was like taking a wrecking ball to the stomach.
He looked like a predator, his gaze roaming over my body as my fingers automatically scrabbled to rebutton the last two holes without looking.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves as I couldn’t break eye contact. He also wasn’t alone.
Talk about being caught with your pants down.
There he was. Hudson Gage. In all hismanlyglory, with a face that looked like it had been sculptured from marble. His shoulders were broad, wide enough to carry the burden of any sin. He’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. The veins which ran up his bare forearms were a testament to his strength and power.
He smirked as he watched me checking him out. The guy was all ego, and I felt a surge of angry adrenaline at being cornered by him.
I took the initiative by asking, “What are you doing in here?” I was so relieved that I hadn’t started changing into my gym stuff. I glanced down, checking that my bra was covered. I still wore my skirt, but no shoes or socks.
Hudson whipped his head to glance at the small huddle of boys behind him, almost to check who my comment was directed at. There was also a girl there, I didn’t recognise her, but she was tall and slim with long brown hair.
“Since this is theguy’slocker room, I would ask you the same thing,” he replied smoothly.
Fuck! The members of his posse wore huge grins and glanced at each other like they shared the meatiest of secrets. The girl just rolled her eyes and sighed.
My frown appeared even though the penny had already dropped. I felt stupid and attempted to defend myself by pointing out, “But—that girl, Storm said…this was the girls' changing rooms?” The rest of my sentence dried up as Hudson crossed his powerful arms over his chest. The muscles flexed and bunched, and something inside my pelvis fluttered. He filled out his school shirt well. I noticed his tie was missing.
Hudson cocked his head, “Of course, she did.”
What didthatmean? Didn’t he believe me? “She did, honestly.”
He rolled his eyes, stating, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, princess, but you’ve been punked.”
Here we go again, another one of those American words where I had no clue of its meaning. And to think he had been the one to offer to tutor me in all things American. How on earth had we gone from there to this?
I cleared my throat, asking, “I’ve beenwhat?”
“Punked, tricked, deceived, hoodwinked,” Hudson explained with an evil smirk.
I raised my hand to cut him off, “OK, I get it now.” After taking a calming breath, I motioned towards the female in the group. “So, what’s she doing here then?”
The group of guys cracked up at my comment, and even the girl smiled.
“For the same reason as you, maybe,” Hudson replied with a mocking twist to his lips.
As my eyes skimmed over the girl, I noticed she also had no tie on and the top three buttons of her shirt were open. I knew what he was getting at. A wave of revulsion rushed over me; the possibility of her having been brought there for sexual favours made me feel sick.
“What can I say? The boys did well at practice today and deserve a reward. Isn’t that right, Sasha?”
The girl looked puzzled for a heartbeat as she digested Hudson’s words, but then her expression turned feral, and she moved to curl herself around him, running a finger up Hudson’s chest. “Oh, absolutely,” she fired back at me.
“Sasha’s skillset is much wider than cheerleading, isn’t that right, baby?” He didn’t need to go on, I got it, and my face must have said it all.
Hudson then caught the girl’s hand and moved it away from his chest, ending his unnecessary translation. I watched, shooting invisible daggers. Had the girl really come there to dish out sexual favours for the team?
Relief pooled in my stomach as Hudson turned his head to the side, barking an instruction to his pack, “Leave us.” He didn’t even need to make eye contact; they just swiftly did as he said. “You too, Sash. I’ll get Mase to text you.” Who the hell was Mase?
The fact that they all left without question didn’t surprise me, as people seemed to follow Hudson around like sheep. As I now knew only too well,KingGage was a leader and carried an impressive amount of weight in the school. Hudson was like a mythical god among men. The guy’s entourage was like those pilot fish that swam alongside the sharks—no prizes for guessing what that would make Hudson. Well, he was either a shark or a fricking pimp from the looks of things. Maybe he wore more than one hat; it wouldn’t surprise me.
And now he hated me. I couldn’t believe he could still look so hot, even when he was looking down his nose. There was also that constant question as to why my fantasy about this boy had so soon turned into a nightmare.
