Page 32 of Marry Me, Maybe?
My body betrayed me before my brain could catch up.
I surged up into him, biting his lip, tasting blood and bitterness and something sweet like home. I shoved him down with my weight, reclaiming my position on top, and kissed him like I wanted to hurt him, like I wanted to devour him whole. Like I wanted him to bleed the way I had.
Hudson moaned into my mouth, hands clawing at myshirt, tugging me closer. “Matty… please… Miss you so much.”
“Shut up,” I growled, trailing my lips down his throat, tasting dust and sweat and him. I couldn’t stop kissing him, but I didn’t have to hear his lies.
Before I knew what I was doing, his jeans were halfway down, and I had him shoved on his knees with his back to me, exposing the curve of his ass, the sharp line of his hip. I reached for my zipper.
“Please, Matty,” he whispered. “It’s been so long, but I never forgot this. Never forgot how good it felt to be fucked by you. You’re the only man who’s been inside me. That hasn’t changed.”
That snapped me out of it. His lies. If he hadn’t said anything, I would have gladly fucked him, but I refused to take any more of his untruths.
As much as I wanted to believe him, I couldn’t.
What the fuck am I doing? This is the man who left me numb for years.
I staggered back like I’d been electrocuted, chest heaving, hands shaking.
Hudson turned, confused, dazed, lips swollen, and pupils still black with want. His cock was hard, curved up toward his stomach. He looked sinful. Fuckable. He looked like a four-year-old bad decision that was hell-bent on ruining my life. Again.
I laughed.
Cold. Cruel. It was the only armor I had left. The only armor I’d allowed myself to wear since his betrayal.
“You really thought I was going to fuck you?” I sneered, voice sharp as barbed wire. “Jesus. You’re pathetic.”
He blinked. “Matt?—”
“I wouldn’t touch you with a fucking barge pole.” Izipped up my jeans with fingers that trembled more than I wanted to admit. “But you? Look at you. Dropping your pants, begging for it. Tells me everything I ever said about you was true.”
His face twisted. “Don’t?—”
“You’re willing to spread your legs for anyone. Was no other man around that night you chose Heather? If you had found a man that night and not knocked her up, would I have ever known? Would we be four years deep in a relationship while you snuck around behind my back because I wasn’t enough for you? Because you still needed some pussy?”
The punch I expected didn’t land. But his silence hit harder.
He parted his lips like he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Just… a look.
Like I’d killed something between us.
As if whatever was there wasn’t already dead.
Good.
Not good.
Fuck.
He stood slowly, tugging his jeans back up, dignity in tatters.
“You’re right,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know you anymore. This isn’t the Matt I fell for that summer.”
“No, it’s the one you created when you took a crap all over my love for you.” I shrugged like everything that had just happened hadn’t rocked me off my feet. Because that kiss hadn’t been a ploy. It hadn’t been meant to shame him. That kiss had been real. The chemistry between us was hotter than ever, which only made the anguish in my soul increase.
We would have been so good together.
“You’ll never forgive me, will you?” he whispered.
