Georgia-Blue & Hudson (Stoney Creek #5)

Chapter 14

14

Georgia

“You alright in there?” I hear Mr Broody himself holler through the interconnecting door. We had some dinner at the bar before we met up with Liz and James for a drink and we’ve found our way back to our room where I’ve just taken a shower and washed all the salt water off me.

“Fine.” I walk out of the bathroom in my silk robe wrapping my hair in a towel. It didn’t get wet from swimming but I still need to wash and style it for tomorrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He edges the door open and tentatively looks in as I stand with my hands on my hips.

“Just checking.”

“You know, Huds, you’re taking this checking on me every five minutes thing for the sake of Gray a little too seriously.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sorry for worrying when I don’t hear you nagging in my ear for five seconds.”

“Ha-ha aren’t you a comedian.”

“I don’t want you telling tales to Gray that I didn’t look after you or feed you.”

I think back to that whole seeing Hudson shirtless thing on the beach and press my lips tightly together. I know what I’d like to be fed with.

It’s not like I’ve been saving my V-card or anything. I just haven’t met anyone or been so much into a guy that I wanted to throw it away. I know at twenty-five it’s more than slightly embarrassing and I know for sure I want to lose it before I turn twenty-six.

A thought has been occurring to me more and more lately that maybe Hudson could be the one to do it. When I peel back the layers of my own feelings toward him, I know with one hundred percent certainty that I’m attracted to him. And maybe I have been for a long time.

Seeing him a little more carefree than I’ve seen in years today cemented that; the fact he is also hot under those clothes is just an added bonus.

“God forbid if that happened,” I manage to retort back.

“So, you’re good?” He glances me over for a moment, seeming to search in my face for my answer. I don’t know how I feel about his eyes not flicking down to my robe.

“I’m good, thank you.”

“Need anything else before I hit the hay?”

Nothing I’m willing to say out loud. “I’m good,” I say, in a voice which sounds a little higher and chirpier than I was hoping for.

“Well, you know where I am.” He nods, before pushing off the door frame.

“Good night, Hudson.”

He turns slightly and my faith in my own stupid thoughts are renewed when his eyes avert briefly downward. It’s a second’s pause, no longer, and I’d have missed it if I wasn’t looking directly at him. “Goodnight, Blue Belle.”

??

When I roll into bed, I’m a little hyped and giddy from being in such close proximity to Hudson that I can’t sleep. That and I want to play with myself so badly, but I don’t want him to hear me.

Eventually, when some time has passed and I know sleep isn’t going to come easily knowing he’s right there next door in the next room, I pull out my bullet and bash out a quick orgasm beneath the covers. Hopefully the thick duvet will drown out any untoward sounds. I can’t help but pull up my silky pajama top up to my armpits and watch my breasts bounce as I hold my bullet against my clit. Working my hips quickly, it should take no time at all, especially when I’m thinking about Huds today. That body and those tatts.

In what feels like less than a minute, I’m reaping the rewards when my release tumbles out in a wild storm of pent up frustration. Seeing Hudson shirtless at the beach was a total highlight and wondering what else lays lower beneath.

He can deny it all he wants but there’s no way he wasn’t checking me out. And there’s that unspoken spark between us that he seems to keep wanting to deny.

I push all that aside as my body takes over and I let out a silent scream as the glorious pulses wash over me and I jerk my chest forward as the back of my head hits the pillow. I squeeze my eyes closed as I ride it out. The bullet always gives me multiple orgasms and I’m up to number three when I hear a deep voice coming from next door. It sounds like shouting… Shit… is that Hudson?

I quickly flick the buzzer off and scramble out of the duvet. Is he… calling?

I’m on my feet, creeping to the door like a stalker as I try to adjust to standing after all that pleasure and press my ear up against it. My body is still humming from my orgasms and I’m so damned slick down there…

The voice calls out again, “No. No. STOP. I can’t. NO!” I can hear his breathing from here coming in rapid pants.

Who the heck is Hudson talking to? It’s one o’clock in the goddamned morning, I doubt he’s on the phone to anyone.

I grab the doorknob and turn it slowly, edging the door open as I stick my head in and look straight over to the bed. The first thing I see is the outline of his larger than life body writhing in the covers, he’s tossing side to side like he’s having a fight with the duvet. Shit.

“Huds!” I hurry toward him to try to wake him from the nightmare, and as I get to his bedside, I see he’s covered in sweat and muttering in his sleep as the sheets tangle around his waist. “Huds!” I lean over to try and shake him awake, gently at first, then a little more vigorously when he doesn’t respond. Pushing both palms against his large shoulders I do everything I can to jolt him out of it. “Wake up, Hudson, you’re having a night?—”

His eyes suddenly shoot open then like I’ve knocked him out of a whirlwind and he immediately grabs me by the wrists. I yelp as he shoots up in bed at the same time and pulls me down to the mattress in the process.

“It’s me!” I wail. “You’re having a nightmare!”

“Fuck!” He lets go of me sharply as I flop forwards, almost landing on him until my hands reach out in front of me and I break my fall against his chest.

With his breath running in ragged gasps, a hand runs through his hair as he takes a second to get his composure. His pants are coming thick and fast as I feel the rise and fall underneath me. “Shit, Georgia, are you ok?”

He glances down to where I’m splayed half across him, using my palms against his bare flesh for support. I take a second to breathe, as my heart is now racing ten to the dozen. Then I push myself up, trying to support myself while also trying not to notice the fact the covers are dipping very low to his waist and my hands are still pressing into his flesh. I quickly take my paws off him as my eyes wander back up to meet his. “Yeah, more to the fact, are you ok?”

He sighs into the dark and leans back on the headboard running two hands over his face. “It happens from time to time. I’m, um— sorry.”

I almost have to wring my ears out. Being sorry is something I’ve never heard from Hudson in all the years I’ve known him. And in this case, he has nothing to be sorry about and I tell him as much.

“I just grabbed you,” he gruffs with an annoyed scowl on his face. He’s mad at his own actions, I realize. Is he always this hard on himself?

“It’s fine. Do the nightmares happen often?”

“Not much lately.” He folds a muscular arm behind his head and doesn’t look at me as he visibly tries to work his breath into some kind of controlled pattern. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“You didn’t. What were you dreaming about?”

“Who fucking knows. Bucko probably.”

My forehead crinkles in confusion.“Who?”

“The bull who ended my career,” he says flatly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You have nightmares about it?”

“Sometimes. I mean, it was pretty intense. It’s more the pain I felt when I was injured and what happened afterward. Not being able to do what I once could—” His dark eyes flick to mine. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“It’s okay. You can, I don’t mind.”

His eyes dip to my silky pajama top and I realize a button has come undone at the neck in our scuffle and it’s dipping open with all the commotion. He’s basically getting a bird’s eye view of my cleavage. “Just give me a sec to calm my—” We both glance down then to his waist, which is just visible from the tangled covers that were pushed down and I have to do a double take as I think I see the head of his— “Fuck. Jesus Christ.” He quickly pulls the covers up, concealing the fact his cock was about to emerge out of his boxer shorts.

“Huds—”

“Don’t even.” He holds a palm up.

I giggle and he eyes me. “You think that’s funny?”

“You get a hard on thinking about Bucko?”

“I wasn’t thinking about Bucko just now.” He eyes towards my chest where I’ve made no attempt to button that top button up. “You’re exposed, sweetheart. Your hands were on me and this bad boy got carried away for a second— Look, it’s been a long night.”

I try not to laugh because that wouldn’t be kind right now, and I’m aching to see what lies beneath. From what I just saw from the tip, something pretty big and swollen. My body is also still humming and feeling lively from my recent exploration with the bullet, not that he would know that. “Yeah, it has.” I sigh, sitting back and pulling my top back to a more decent eye level. “Are you okay now?”

“I’m fine. Like I say, it happens from time to time. I get night sweats sometimes. Sorry again for grabbing you.”

“I told you, it’s fine.”

“I’d never hurt you.”

“I know that.”

He nods, satisfied with that as I edge off the bed. I stop mid-standing. “Is Bucko the tattoo on your leg?” I ask.

He seems surprised by the answer as he pulls his lip under his front teeth for a second before answering.

“You noticed that, huh?”

Yeah, among other things. “It was kinda hard not to.”

“Well, that’s the one.”

My eyes shine wide hearing that. “Really? Why would you tattoo him on your leg when you have nightmares about him ending your career and almost your life?”

“Maybe I deserved it,” he says.

I scrunch my forehead again. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say, you realize a lot in a time of crisis. He was only doing what was natural for him and that was to fight back. And he was the most dangerous bull in the league. I respect that a lot. More than people know.”

I swallow hard. It’s probably the most poetic thing I’ve ever heard, but also incredibly sad.

This man is nothing short of a whole world of secrets I never knew. Unexpected things like tattoos of a dangerous bull that rammed him to the ground and broke bones, some that would never recover to what they were. I know parts of what happened to him, but nothing like this. “Didn’t you defy doctors who wanted to put rods in your back?”

He sighs into the moonlight. “Yeah. I reclused to the mountains as you know. I had a lot of time to do some heavy thinking and some work on my mindset,” he says. “It took months of me wallowing in self-pity and drinking too much to realize that wasn’t the path for me. My parents—” He falls short and presses his mouth closed.

I stare at him, wanting so much for him to elaborate and waiting to see if he will. It’s the most I’ve ever heard him say about any of this.

“They helped me a lot,” he says.

“I’m so sorry, Hudson. For what happened.” I mean everything, from the accident to his mom’s illness and her passing away. It was all so sad and upsetting. I don’t know how he survived it. And his poor father. I feel for them so much.

“It’s alright,” he says. “Some things you have to learn to live with, whether you like it or not.”

“Your mom, she would never want you to be sad.”

He stares at me for a long, hard moment and I’ve no idea if I’ve overstepped the mark again, or what he’s going to say. “You know she thought the sun shined out of your backside,” he finally says.

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “She did?”

“Little Georgia-Blue, she used to call you.”

I smile softly. “That’s so sweet. God, I miss her.”

“Me too.” He sniffs and then he stirs a little as if remembering himself, removing his hand from the back of his head. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow, you should try and get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I whisper. And I don’t mean to linger, but oh how I want to. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that everything is going to be okay.

I know enough about energies in people and their demeanor to know that he suffers, and he’s not over what he’s been through. I know it’s been a struggle for him to get back on his feet and for the first time in a long time, my heart goes out to him.

We were all there for the funeral when he and his father sat at the front of the Stoney Creek church as the life of his beautiful mom flashed before us up on the big screen.

I know how much he loved and respected his mom and the way he must miss her is unfathomable. I can’t even think about my mom not being around. “Let me know if you have any more nightmares.”

“You want me to come and wake you up?” He smirks, sitting fully upright now and not even seeming to care anymore that nearly everything was just out on display.

And just like that, the cocky, smarty-pants Hudson is back.

“You might not know this about me, but I can be quite comforting in a crisis,” I inform him matter-of-factly, feeling my own bravado coming back in full force.

Maybe he just brings it out in me.

“That, I do not doubt,” I’m sure I hear him say as I float back to bed and try my best to still my beating heart and quiet my rapid breathing. But it’s getting increasingly difficult with him around.