Page 41 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson
Because you’re the principal’s kid.
Hudson hadn’t said as much, but it must have beensomethingto do with that.
Once the last boy had left, Hudson turned back to face me and dropped his arms. My breath caught in my throat as he advanced on me, erasing the space between us with a brooding expression. Why did he always have to look sogrowly? Well, apart from that first morning when he’d looked at me with such wonder and dared, I say, interest? Why had thingschangedso quickly? What had I done?
“I don’t get the point of the prank,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “How does Storm benefit from sending me to the wrong changing room?”
My words appeared to annoy him more as his face darkened. His eyes were hard on mine. I wasn’t used to boys looking at me in a pissed-off way, especially when I hadn’t done anything wrong, well, not on purpose.
“Lockerroom,” he corrected my English, “and you can’t bethatnaive?” Hudson said as his eyes dropped to my breasts. His expression was assessing. Was the guy trying to guess my cup size? I held my hand against my chest and stepped back, the low bench digging into my calf muscles. The thought of the possibility of Storm sending me there to ‘service’ the team like sweet Sasha was swept under the rug. There was no way I was in a mindset to compute that one right then.
Hudson moved closer. His focus was still trained on my boobs. I felt like saying ‘my eyes are up here, buddy’ but I didn’t. He was tall and strong and my breathing becamelaboured at his nearness. Why on earth was I still interested in him with everything I had just learned?
Forget about the Sasha thing, he’s probably fucking with you.
As Hudson watched me, I inspected his face. I hadn’t been this close to him since the lunchroom episode. Each time I had seen him from a safe distance, I had attempted to read this boy. Hudson had a signature smirk. It sat somewhere in between amusement and boredom. On a few occasions, when he thought no one was watching, I saw something more real. He looked unhappy, like he hadn’t truly smiled in decades. The thought had made me feel down, and I knew that there was more to Hudson Gage than he allowed you to see. To get to the bottom of his issues would take hard work and proper graft. And what with everything going on in my head, did I have the strength to tackle that challenge? Probably not, but I pressed on nonetheless.
“Where is the boy I met in the library?” I questioned, planting my hands on my hips.
I waited patiently as Hudson digested my comment.
Realisation then spread over his features. “Standing right here,English,” he drawled cockily with one brow arched.
English? Well, it wasn’t the worst of nicknames.
“No, he isn’t. Where’s the nice guy I met, the one I laughed with? Unless you’re one of those split personality types.”
Hudson’s eyes roamed over my face. “Doesn’t everyone have two sides?”
My brow creased. “I don’t. What you see is what you get.”
“Indeed,” he muttered, but his expression suggested he wasn’t listening. I should have felt self-conscious standing barefoot before him alone in the men’s locker room, but I didn’t. I embraced being in his company. After my mom’s death, I hadn’t felt much of anything. This was so much better than the nothingness, even though you couldn’t hide from that antagonistic vibe pulsing off Hudson’s shoulders.
I retained eye contact as I was met with his continued silence. “Hudson?” I prompted. I was trying to get his attention, but the guy was mesmerised.
“You’ve misbuttoned your shirt,” he replied huskily.
My stomach clenched. Glancing down, I could see a hint of cleavage and the lace of my bra, and he was right, I had. The gaps of the top revealed parts of my stomach. I should have been soul-crushingly embarrassed, but I wasn’t. It must have been the shock of his appearance. I so hoped he didn’t see how hard my nipples were.
Swallowing, I moved my hands to repair my mistake and gasped as Hudson stepped forward, catching my wrists, gently lowering them to my sides. “Here, let me.”
I shivered like a leaf in the breeze, and my breath hitched as he released me and raised his hands. I held that breath, feeling powerless to stop him, hell, I didn’twantto stop him. My arms remained where he had placed them, almost like Hudson had the power to make me both speechless and immobile with those three words.
I just stood there,allowingit to happen as his long fingers began unbuttoning my shirt. Hudson Gage wasundressingme now, and that thought made me feel warm inside. He carried out the job slowly and thoroughly, his eyes on the task, that expression unreadable. Each time one of his fingers caught my skin, a breath left my mouth, almost like I was panting.
What would I do if he ripped my shirt apart, bared my bra to his eyes? A frantic ache suddenly bursts through my core. It was that thought alone that made warmth pool between my legs. Every cell in my body felt raw with sexual hunger. How could I want this boy so badly when I hardly knew him?
The whole situation should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. It felt natural and unforced. The airsizzledbetween us.
As Hudson undid the last button I had fastened in my haste, my shirt gaped. Raising his chin, his eyes tangled with mine. I could see he was aroused; his face was slightly flushed, and his lips were parted.
My chest moved up and down with each breath I took, and I was speechless as he lowered his gaze and carefully opened my school shirt, exposing my lace-covered breasts. I loved nice underwear and never went for the plain stuff. The one I had worn that day pushed my breasts up, making them appear larger than they were. The material was slightly see-through, showing the outline of my nipples.
His intake of breath said it all, and his gaze became hooded as he drank in my half-naked torso, examining me with a heated expression.
“So beautiful,” he whispered in a deep, almost proud voice, like I was his to be admired, and I had pleased him somehow.
And. I. Loved. It.
