We were all thirsty, so I unlocked the town hall to get us drinks from the water cooler.
Under the glow of the street lights, without the fluorescent overhead lights, ringing phones, nonstop chatter of the men, and the buzzing fax machine, the office was quiet, quaint, and almost charming, like someone’s Victorian sitting room—except with desks instead of Queen Anne chairs.
“Here, let me get the full effect,” Hudson said, pulling out my desk chair and ushering me into it, then going back to stand in front of the counter, as if he had just walked in.
“Do I look professional?” I pursed my lips at him.
“Very much so.”
“Do I look like I won’t take any excuses for not paying your water bill?”
“Honey, you look like you won’t take shit from anyone,” he said, coming back to stand behind me.
“Good, because I won’t,” I said, as he spun my chair around to face him.
The tired dogs had settled down, side-by-side, on the carpet by the vault. The only sound was the gentle click of the time clock and the hum of the radiator.
“Start up your computer, baby,” Hudson said.
“I can’t go on porn sites,” I laughed. “Joe checks my Google history. I swear, he does.”
“Joe barely knows how to open the vault. But it’s not porn I’m after. It’s you I want.”
Hudson found a jazz Pandora station and turned it on softly. Smiling, he reached down and gathered up my hair, tousling it first, then pulling it up and off my face.
“Lovely.”
“Not really!”
“Shhhhh,” he said, pulling me up into his arms and kissing me with a fierceness that no longer surprised me. It was just his way.
“The police station is just across the street, you know.”
“I know. I’m not planning on committing any crimes. Not crimes against society, anyway.”
He pulled my hoodie gently away from my waist, running his hands around the edge of my jeans. Without a word, I held up my arms for him to take the hoodie off me. Before he could ask, I slid out of my jeans, standing in only my undies by my desk chair. I did a quick spin to show him all of me. My modesty had long before gone out the window.
“You little tease,” he said, stroking my legs, using the tips of his fingers to find me already wet and ready.
“Um,” I said, already unable to form words. Having Hudson at the office at night was an incredible turn-on. How many times had I fantasized about having sex with him at work? Too many to count.
“Do you want it, honey?”
“I do,” I breathed, swaying into him slightly.
“How do you want it?” There were too many choices, all of them delicious. “Take me in your mouth, sweetie,” he said. “Please.”
I got on my knees in front of him, praying his zipper would open easily, because my hands were shaky. I slid him into my mouth, licking the head the way he said he liked it best, then using my hand to stroke while I sucked.
“Stop, stop,” he said, moving slightly away. “I want to come inside you.”
I wiped drool from my chin. “How do you want me?”
Without a word, Hudson pulled me to my feet and turned me toward my desk, holding his penis so he would stay hard. He pressed slowly on my shoulders until I was leaning over, then pushed into me in one smooth motion.
Our noises woke the dogs, but we didn’t care. I bent over my desk, crumpling papers with my damp elbows, thrashing my hips back toward him, slamming really, opening my legs wider so he could press harder.
“My juicy little puss,” he breathed into my back, licking the salt off my neck. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
Groaning and shuddering, Hudson came, heaving, falling out of me as our juices dribbled down my thighs. I grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box on my desk.
“I’m so sorry,” he panted. “I didn’t mean to make a mess.”
“Completely worth it,” I said, wiping myself. “Now I have something to think about at work.”
Chloe was raring to go, but Pen was sleeping, so I cuddled her in my arms and carried her home. It was late by the time we walked back to my house.
Hudson turned to me after he settled Chloe in the Jeep. “I’m loving everything about you.”
And that meant—what?!?
I was definitely on the happy train, doing a little dance in the kitchen. Penny tipped her head sideways, as if she were trying to figure me out.
65
“Something’s wrong,” I texted Eddie two weeks later.
“Trouble in Erection Land?”
“No, jerk, and stop calling it Erection Land. But it is about Hudson. He doesn’t call me honey or sweetie anymore, and he isn’t putting xxxooo at the end of his texts.”
“That’s a real first-world problem.”
“I’m serious! And when he texted me good morning, he said, ‘Have a nice day.’”
“What the hell’s wrong with that?”
“He usually texts all the time, all day. Why would he say have a nice day?”
“Jess, you’re letting yourself get too far ahead. He’s probably busy at the shop.”
“I don’t know.”
“So, he didn’t call you sweetheart—what did he call you?”
“Jessica.”
“News flash. That’s your name.”
“I feel like I’m in grade school when people call me by my full name.”
“What do you call him?”
“OK. Hudson. Or sometimes Huddy.”
“Well I’m sure he isn’t insulted by you using his name.”
Damn Eddie for being so logical. Still, I couldn’t ignore the nagging worry that gave me a stress headache that only got worse as the day wore on.
That night, Hudson called around 5:00, which was unusual because he didn’t ever close the shop before 8:30. He must still have been at work.
“Did you have a crazy day?”
“Yeah, some custom balusters weren’t up to spec,” he said, sounding tired.
“So they won’t pass inspection?”
“Nope. So I took over the job myself.”
“Why don’t you have one of the other guys do the job?” I asked, looking inside the fridge for something easy to make for dinner and wishing I hadn’t eaten the
