Page 54 of The Wedding Fake

And what a moment it was. I loved the way his single palm owned me. It was gentle, subtle, warm, and spread wide, without a lick of self-consciousness. My stomach flipped as I considered maybe Hudson was used to claiming—owning—using women and moving on. Maybe this perfect moment was only ordinary to him.

I swallowed hard, shifting in my seat, wishing I could let myself enjoy the feelings. Hudson squeezed my thigh gently, looking my way. “You good?” he asked quietly.

I wished scientists would hurry up and figure out wormholes, because what better tool for dating than to be able to peek into your prospective partner’s past? It was invasive, sure, but I assumed it would become standard practice, as acceptable as Googling before the first date. And if I could, I would peek into Hudson’s past. I’d wanted so badly to believe he could be committed to one woman, but my doubts had a way of sneaking in through even the tiniest cracks.

“I’m good,” I said, not sure if it was the truth or a lie. I seemed to be vacillating between absolute contentment and overwhelming sadness.

Hudson leaned close to my ear—close enough to sneak a kiss on the hollow behind it—and said, “We leave whenever you want. Just say the code word, and we’re gone.”

I grinned, knowing he was being goofy just to cheer me up, even though he surely didn’t know why I was sad. When the time came to leave, I’d obviously have to be the one to start the goodbye process. “What’s the code word?” I whispered, willing to play along.

“Pancakes,” he replied without hesitation.

I laughed. “Because that’s easy to fit into conversation.”

He raised his brow seriously, his tone scolding. “If you pick an easy word we’ll be up and down, over and over, saying goodbye all night.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re beautiful.” He touched my cheek, a quick stroke with the backs of his fingers. I gave him a big roll of my eyes, but I couldn’t suppress my smile.

“Thanks for inviting me this week,” he added, which deserved another eye roll, since it had probably been an awful trip for him, but I didn’t move, didn’t look away from his dark gaze.

And rather than contradict him, I said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

He leaned in close. “You want pancakes for breakfast tomorrow?”

I laughed, looking around us to try and judge how much more rehearsal they needed to stick around for. I loved my family, but I would have them forever. Hudson was only mine for forty-eight more hours. “Desperately,” I replied, “but I don’t think we can go yet.”

“No rush,” he murmured, settling his hand back onto my thigh and shifting his attention to the table.

27

HUDSON

“I got us a room at the B&B,” Claire said.

I peeled open a single eyelid sleepily, looking at the space around us. We hadn’t made it back up to the bed last night, and instead lay naked, tangled in each other and the blankets on the floor of Claire’s room. “But I was just growing accustomed to sleeping on the floor,” I replied, my voice thick with sleep.

Claire pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders as she shifted, landing on top of me. I was tired—I’d barely gotten any sleep all week, especially in the two days since Claire had decided we could be together. I ran a hand down her body, wishing I could keep her naked and on top of me all day. I’d always choose Claire over sleep. “We can sleep on the floor at the B&B if you’d like,” she replied with a grin.

I rolled us over until my body pinned hers to the floor. There was still so much I wanted to learn about Claire, but I already knew this one thing with absolute certainty—Claire liked having my body on top of hers. She liked being held by my weight and trapped in my arms, and now, like every time, she let out a quiet moan as her legs wrapped around my waist and she demanded I come closer. I pulled back and away as she canted her hips, nearly perfectly aligning our bodies so that the head of my throbbing cock pressed into her. “Condom, Claire,” I chided, and she nodded, but as I pressed up and away from her, standing to get the box from a plastic bag that sat on the nightstand, I saw the look in her eyes. It was wild and wanton and though I wouldn’t even consider it, I was sure she didn’t care if I put the condom on or not.

I rolled the condom on hastily, my gaze never breaking from hers, my mind going a million miles a minute. The idea of entering Claire in a single thrust, nothing separating me from her warm, inviting body was sexy, but nowhere near as sexy as the realization that anxious, straight-laced Claire might trust me enough to want this.

I kissed her neck. “I want to taste you.”

“Hudson,” she protested.

“If your answer is no, I won’t press, but you should know how badly I want it—how often I fantasize about you coming all over my tongue.”

Claire’s throat bobbed with an audible swallow, and she said, “Really?”

Her legs loosened around me, and I knew. “You want that, Claire? Want me to show how good it can be for both of us?”

Her knees fell to either side of my waist, opening her to me, but she said nothing. I coasted a hand down her thigh, letting my lips trace the shell of her ear. “Yes? Or no?” I whispered.

Her one-word answer was so quiet I might not have heard it if a single additional centimeter had separated us. “Yes.”