Page 65 of Mr. Big Shot

She kicks off her panties and then climbs back on top of me. This time, she holds herself up on her knees. My hand goes to her waist and I hold her steady, lowering her gently as her eyes widen.

“Relax,” I tell her with a half-laugh, half-groan.

“I’m scared.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Hudson, YOU WOULD BE OVERREACTING TOO if you were in my position.”

Now I’m laughing, which is ridiculous because this is the most exquisite feeling of my life and I should be savoring it with every fiber of my being.

“Slower,” she hisses, gripping my shoulders. Her nails dig into my skin.

I almost want to pull her down onto me hard, just to end this beautiful misery. Maybe I would in another life, but in this life, Scarlett has me over a barrel. I’m so obsessed with her, so in awe, I press into her slow inch by slow inch. Anything she wants, I’ll give her.

“So I’m doing well so far? Like if you were to grade me right now…”

Her question falls on deaf ears as I finally work her down onto me most of the way and I go still, savoring every overwhelming sensation.

“I’m passing at the very least, right?” she prods impatiently.

“Scarlett,” I bite out in warning.

I lift her up off me and thrust into her again, and her hands tighten on my shoulders so she doesn’t tip over. I do it again, easing her into a faster rhythm until she’s scratching her nails down my arms, bending down to find my mouth, kissing me with wild abandon.

Her questions don’t matter anymore. There’s nothing but what my hands can feel, what my eyes can feast on. I can’t comprehend anything else beyond her. My hands hoist her up and down harder as I thrust a maddening pace. She transitions between kissing me and peeling back to watch what I’m doing to her, like she’s just as enamored by it as I am. We’re wrapped up around each other, as close as two people can get.

I’m panting and trying to stave off the inevitable, skirting the edge of oblivion. When I come, I buck off the couch and press my fingers into her skin. I’m surely leaving marks. Black stars pop behind my closed lids.

Afterward, I settle beneath her with the weight of the world. It was so good. So, so achingly good, but the post-sex high doesn’t last. Insidious guilt must have been waiting in the wings because already it starts to weave through me. Overtaking the vestiges of lust. Popping the happy-go-lucky bubble we’ve crafted for ourselves.

I keep my eyes closed for so long she laughs and kisses my cheek. “Wake up.”

“I’m not sleeping.”

I don’t mean to sound so gruff, but I can’t help it.

“What are you doing then?”

“Processing.”

“Did I break you?” She taps her finger against my chest, right over my heart, like she’s a comedian doing a mic check. “This thing still working?”

I blink my eyes open to see she’s smiling down at me. Earnest. Sweet. Scarlett. I find I’m completely speechless.

I’m scared, actually.

I peel her off me and set her down on the couch like she’s a rare antique I should have never been handling in the first place. She’s so naked and so young and I immediately lean down and grab her black dress and tell her to put it on. I watch the excitement of the last few minutes slowly start to drain from her face as I stand and get dressed myself.

“Hudson?”

I can’t look at her. What can I even say?

“Hey.” She stands and grabs my arm, forcing me to turn back and look at her. “Did we just ruin everything? Can we still be friends?”

Her pained expression breaks my heart.

“Sorry,” I say, hauling her toward me and tightening my hold on her. “I’m sorry.”

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