Page 63 of Malice

Hudson’s bottom lip quivers for a second before he tears his gaze away. “I wish I believed that, but experience tells me otherwise.”

He walks back to the couch and I follow him.

“Have you been in love before?”

Hudson scoffs. “Too many times to count. I fall too fast. That’s my fatal flaw. I’m always chasing what I can’t catch.” He rubs his growing beard. “Not anymore though. Eyes wide open from now on.”

“Smart.”

“So don’t worry about me. Last night was… awesome. Needed.” His gaze moves to the empty space in front of him. “But I won’t make it weird.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Good.” He glances at the book in my hands. “What’s it like for you now? Dating, I mean. It must be hard to answer the ‘what do you do for work’ question.”

I chuckle. “I haven’t had to yet. Just with you.”

“Oh.” His hand brushes against mine and he shifts his eyes up to meet my gaze. “Do you still hope to fall in love someday?”

“Yes,” I admit. “It’s more complicated now, but I guess hope hasn’t died.”

“Good. One thing I’ve learned is you never know what life has in store for you.”

“That’s definitely true.”

The silence lingers between us, and I don’t know what Hudson is thinking, but I’m thinking about how nice it would be to sink into his gorgeous mouth again. I want to rub all over him like a feral animal and mark him with my scent, and it’s not at all lost on me how unusual those thoughts are.

“I should let you get back to writing while the mood is hot.”

He blinks like he just snapped out of a daydream. “Uh, yeah. I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Read my handbook for more tips. I need a plan.”

Hudson nods, but before I can shift my attention, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips.

“Thank you, Aster. I know it’s your job and everything, but I’m grateful you’re here.”

“So am I.”

Chapter 23

Hudson

Ican’t remember the last time I wrote this much in one session. My fingers are cramping but I’m nearing the end of my third chapter for the day, so I push on.

Aster’s been supplying me with a steady stream of coffee and snacks, and as I wrap up the final sentence, a sense of pride and accomplishment spreads through me.

I lean back, stretching my arms out and flexing my fingers. Aster looks up from his spot in the armchair where he’s been studying a book I apparently can’t see. Except for feeding me and figuring out a potty spot in the dining room for Otto, he hasn’t moved much either.

The studious expression on his face—brow furrowed, biting his bottom lip—is doing things to me. My cock stirs as my stomach flips. Would it be weird if I crawled across the floor and into his lap to bury my face in the crook of his neck and rub all over him?

I don’t have the chance to play out that scenario because the sound of my name being called from outside interrupts my thoughts.

“Jocelyn.”

We’re both on our feet, and as Aster swings the front door open, my sister and Elaina try to come in, smacking into the same invisible force that keeps us locked in.

“What the fuck?” Jocelyn exclaims as Elaina catches her.

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