Page 89 of Anatomy of a Player

Hudson slid the hand on my cheek behind my head, his fingers threading into my hair, and then he crashed his mouth over mine. His other arm slid between my coat and my shirt, securing me to him so tightly that I could feel the hard planes of muscle beneath his thin jacket.

Desire and affection swirled through me as he deepened the kiss, combating the cold better than layers of fabric ever could.

“I promise I’ll never hurt you like that again,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ll make us work, no matter what it takes.”

“Okay,” I said. “Me, too.” I’d thought it would be impossible to repair the damage we’d done to each other, but with his arms around me, anything felt possible, and the fact of the matter was, I did need him right back.

He tugged me toward the rink’s entrance, where two pairs of skates waited. I slipped mine on and cautiously stepped onto the ice. Hudson stayed by my side, his hand coming up to my elbow to steady me when I wobbled.

Once I’d regained my footing, he took my hand, lacing my gloved fingers with his bare ones. I pushed off, skating toward the center of the rink. “How’d you get this place all to yourself?”

“Didn’t you hear? Athletes get special perks.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

“The rink doesn’t open for two more days, but I called in a favor. The owner was happy to help out a player on the Boston College team. Not so happy about the tree, but Beck talked him into it—or most likely paid enough that he would let it slide. If someone had filmed us trying to decorate it, it’d probably go viral. We suck at decorating.”

I glanced back at the tree. “I don’t know. I kind of love it—especially the floppy star.” The toe of my skate caught a rough spot of ice and I stutter-stepped. Hudson slid in front of me and his hands came up on my hips, keeping me from taking a spill.

“I’m happy to hear that, because it’s coming home with me tonight, and I’m planning on taking you home with me, too.”

Anticipation zinged through me, but I did my best to gasp and act scandalized. “Well, if this is a first date, that seems awfully forward of you.”

He grinned his devilish grin. “What can I say? I’m an awfully forward guy, especially when it comes to getting what I want.”

I gripped the sleeves of his jacket—trying to look like a worthy opponent while the slippery ice did its best to thwart my sense of balance. “I’m currently debating how strongly I should disagree.”

“I’d say very strongly. I like a challenge.” He slid his hands around my back and hooked them there. “Before I forget to tell you, I liked your article.”

“You did?”

“Fair. Balanced. I’m proud of you.” His pulled me tighter against him. “I want to get my symbiotic on.”

“Lyla informed me that it should really be mutualistic, because symbiotic doesn’t necessarily mean both parties benefit. Sometimes it’s just the parasites, but I thought that with modern terminology, people would get it and—”

He cut off the rest of my words with a kiss, running his tongue along the seam of my lips and rendering me incapable of speech and thought. “There’s my brainiac,” he said, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. “God, I missed you.”

He kissed me again, deeper, like he was trying to memorize every inch of my mouth. His hands slid down to my butt. I thought he was just copping a feel, and I’m sure that was part of it, but the next thing I knew, he’d boosted me in his arms.

The momentum made him slide backward, and I threw my arms around his neck. “We’re gonna fall!”

Hudson laughed and then kissed me again, adding a spin that made me tighten my arms and wrap my legs around his waist.

Then I was the one laughing. Once I realized that he could probably skate around blindfolded and never fall, I took control of the kiss, swirling my tongue around his and then gently biting on his lip. He groaned and spun us around again, and I got lost in the euphoric free-falling sensation.

By the time we came up for air, both of us were breathing hard.

“My place?” he asked.

“I just need to tell you something first.” When he’d asked if I loved him, I’d answered yes, because with how much I loved him, there really wasn’t any other way to answer. But I wanted to say it, and for him to truly hear and understand, so that we wouldn’t start this next part of our relationship with any misunderstandings or words that needed to be said.

I ran my hand down his beard, anticipating the moment I could do it without gloves in the way—when I’d feel the scrape of it on my skin as he expertly kissed his way down my body.

I got a little lost in the lust haze for a second and then found my way back to shore, where Hudson was staring at me like I was his whole world and the next words I spoke might make or break him. “I love you, Hudson Decker.”

A devastatingly handsome grin spread across his lips. “I love you too, Reporter Girl.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

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