Page 31 of Commit
I blink, unsure how to process all that. On one hand, I get it. If it’s not her thing, dragging her along seems almost cruel, especially after how she reacted to the crowd at the wake.
Still… “She woke up to you being gone. You left her alone in the house while she slept, with a man she doesn’t know.”
He clenches his jaw, but I see my words hit home. He knows her ten times better than I do. If I know that’s a lot for her to deal with, then so does he.
“I’ll go check on her,”
“Don’t bother. She’s asleep in her room. She got her period and was feeling pretty shitty.”
He grimaces before looking at his watch. “I came back to see if she wanted to grab something to eat, but if she’s asleep, I’ll just hit the drive-through.” He shoves his feet back into his sneakers.
“I have food here.”
“I don’t want to cook. I just want to grab something quick before I crash.” He pulls the door open and leaves, closing it behind him with more force than necessary.
I watch out the window as he pulls away and heads down the driveway before I walk back into the kitchen and grab the tray. I feel myself scowling, but I’m not sure why I’m so pissed at Abbot. He hasn’t done anything other than be a seventeen-year-old asshole. Attitude aside, he’s home well before midnight. I didn’t smell any alcohol on him, and—I pause halfway up the steps as I realize what I did smell on him.
Sex.
He’s been out fucking someone else.
I’m torn between wanting to knock the punk out and laughing at how easy he’s making this for me. I resume walking, thinking about how I can use this to my advantage.
If I straight-up tell her I think Abbot’s fucking around on her, she might not believe, or worse she might, then try to leave. No, for now, I’ll keep that information to myself. It might be a useful card to play later down the line, but I have other moves to make first, ones that will have a far higher chance of success.
I knock on her door, and when I don’t get a response, I push it open. The light from the hallway illuminates the room just enough for me to see that she hasn’t moved. I set the tray on the bottom of the bed before sitting down beside her. I gently brush her hair away from her face and take her in.
I feel my dick stir as she murmurs something in her sleep and leans into me. I trail my thumb across her bottom lip, imagining the feel of it sliding along the underside of my dick as I fuck her mouth.
Her lips part, so I slide my thumb inside a little, unable to resist. I feel her tongue touch the pad of my thumb before her lips close around it, and she sucks. I go from semi to hard in a millisecond.
I pull my thumb free. If I don’t, I’ll shove something else in her mouth. I want her to be an active participant when I’m fucking her, whether that be her mouth or her pussy, even if she’s only playing along because I’ve left her no other option. If I take her now, I’ll fuck things up before I’ve even started.
Instead, I shake her a little, sitting back when she stirs and her eyes open. She stares at me for a moment, confused, before recognition floods her expression.
“Hudson?” She tugs the comforter up like a protective shield.
I smirk, wondering if she’s aware of what she’s doing.
“You slept through dinner, so I brought you something to eat and some painkillers just in case. Did you need a heating pad or anything? I can get someone to pick one up for you and drop it off.”
She frowns before a lightbulb goes off. “No, that’s okay. I don’t feel too bad right now.”
I turn and grab the tray and wait for her to sit up before placing it on her lap. She stares down at the assortment with shock on her face. There’s a BLT sandwich and some chips, a bowl of strawberries, and a bottle of water, as well as a bar of chocolate and a can of Coke in case she needs a sugar hit. There are also a couple bottles of painkillers for her to choose from.
“You made this for me?”
“Well, I don’t have a chef, so yeah,” I joke, but she doesn’t smile.
She looks up at me, still a little shocked, and offers me the first real smile I’ve seen from her. “Thank you,” she whispers, making me wonder how much of a jackass my son is if this is surprising to her. Even he can manage to make her a sandwich, surely.
“It’s no problem. I’m glad you’re feeling better. You feel up to watching a movie or something?” I ask, even though it’s a fucking stupid idea.
“Is Abbot back?”
“He came back and left again when he found out you were asleep.”
She nods like she expected that. “I think I’m just going to eat this and go back to sleep, if that’s okay. I didn’t realize just how much the last few days have affected me.”