Saturday Night
What does that mean? What’s happening? He loves me. He fucking loves me. I knew it. But why is he standing? The crab legs were coming. Doesn’t he know that dinner is ready? They’re going to get cold…
Hudson dropped to one knee and my heart nearly stopped.
“Hudson,” I breathed, turning in my chair to face him. He’s tying his shoelace. It must have come undone. He was shaking his leg a lot, maybe that untied it? Oh my god, he has a box.
“Sophia Elizabeth Mitchell,” he started, his voice wavering as he held the little box on his knee. “No one, and I mean no one, has ever made me feel the way you do. I want to do this for real. I don’t want to have to pretend with our parents anymore, and I don’t want to keep confusing Jamey.” He laughed, sniffling as if he was trying to hold back tears, and opened the box.
In the center, on a neat little pillow, sat what may have been the most breathtaking ring I’ve ever laid my eyes on. It looked so similar to the one I’d been wearing. An oval cut diamond set within a gold band, smaller diamonds surrounding it. The ring was beautiful, perfect.
“I want to do everything with you. I want to raise our child together, I want to raise Jamey with you. I want to marry you. I will spend every day from here on out making up for every misstep I might take, every word I might fumble, every stitch of fabric I’ve made—and will continue to make—you mess up on. I will love you for as long as I have air in my lungs, for as long as you let me, and even longer after that. Will you marry me, angel?”
I didn’t realize I was full-on crying until Hudson wiped the tears from my cheeks. It was all so insane, every piece of the puzzle slotting into place. I wanted this, I knew from the depths of my fucking soul I wanted this. We may not have known each other that long but I didn’t care. Hudson was my person, my everything, and although I’d fought it the last few months I knew without a shred of doubt that this was where I was supposed to be. I didn’t even care that his clothes were too tight or that dinner might be getting cold. God, I was starving. His proposal was perfect. “Yes,” I choked, throwing my arms around him and launching myself from the chair. He stumbled backward on his knees, his ass hitting the polished hardwood, and we both laughed as tears streamed down our faces.
“Thank God,” he said, one arm around my waist and the other holding his weight against the floor. “I was still a little worried you’d say no.”
“Ahem. The crab is going cold, Dr. Brady. Would you like me to wait any longer?”
I lifted my head, wiping the tears as best as I could, and chuckled as I locked eyes with the chef. “Should we eat, Dr. Brady?” I mocked, plucking the ring from the box and sliding it onto my finger. Perfect fit.
“I’d rather take you to bed,” he whispered, his shit-eating grin far too wide. “But yeah, let’s eat.”
————
Long after the chef had gone and the rain had stopped, Hudson cast off from the dock and captained the yacht out into the harbor. I watched as he steered, my legs laid out on the white leather chaise lounge just behind the wheel and a captain’s hat on my head.
Chef Thomas had brought out a congratulatory bottle of champagne, and although I’d protested to Hudson, he’d insisted on one single glass. “One glass won’t hurt the baby. I promise,” He’d told me. After two weeks of not having a sip of alcohol, I could already feel the buzz seeping into my bones.
“Why are we leaving the dock?” I asked, swaying my bent knees as I watched him.
“Because I doubt the others that live on their boats will want to hear the sounds you’ll be making tonight.” Hudson chuckled as he turned to face me in my captain’s hat. “Not going to lie, that hat only makes you look even more appealing to me right now.”
“Then do something about it,” I teased, pulling it farther down over my brows.
“Don’t tempt me. I have to anchor first.” He crossed the short distance to me, offering his hand. I took it gladly, feeling like a wet spaghetti noodle as he hauled me to my feet.
————
His hands were on me the moment we stepped through the door to the bedroom.
Fingers in my hair, tugging at the tie holding up my bun and releasing the wavy strands in one swift go. His lips met mine, gentle and soft but needy, and every little stroke was enough to set my senses on fire.
Hudson loved me. He’d said the words, he’d given them life, he’d proposed. I could feel the relief from him with every touch, every little movement he made as he edged me back toward the bed. Walls had crumbled, now a little pile of debris at our feet, and we’d clean it up tonight. We’d make it new. We’d build new walls together, not to keep one another out, but to build a life within them.
My back hit the soft, black comforter, my hands fisting the mess of his hair that he’d pushed back, dragging him down on top of me. “This feels so surreal,” I whispered, watching the way his eyes softened as he looked down at me. His hands fumbled along the side of my dress, searching for the hidden zipper, and finally found it.
“I know exactly what you mean.” One swift tug and the zipper was down, the fabric hanging loosely across my body. “I wanted to tell you earlier. That night before my flight, actually. It was right there, on the tip of my tongue. I just couldn’t find the words.”
“I thought so,” I chuckled, pulling him down and kissing him again. His mouth tasted of champagne and butter, his hair smelled like the ocean. I could stay beneath him like this for the rest of my life and be happy.
Wandering hands pushed the straps from my shoulders, baring my chest to him, and as I reached for the buttons on his shirt, one popped off in my hand. “I figured that might happen,” he mumbled against my lips, grabbing his shirt by the collar. “Doesn’t fit me anymore, anyway.” One swift tug and the rest of the buttons popped. I laughed, happy nostalgia flooding me from the first night we’d slept together.
The two sides of his shirt hung limp around him. I couldn’t stop myself from dragging my hands across his chest, from feeling every ripple of muscle, every bit of warmth seeping out from him. This was mine. He was mine, for as long as I wanted him.
It still didn’t feel real.
“Hudson,” I breathed, pulling back from the kiss enough to get some air. “Did you and Becks ever…?”
“On this bed?” He shook his head as he slid the fabric down my body, lifting me just enough to pull it off over my ass. “No. We didn’t.”
Okay. That’s a million times better.
His lips met my neck, kissing softly on the tender spot beneath my ear. I sighed, raising my bare chest to meet his, relishing in the warmth between us. My hands wandered down to where his hips met mine, fingers toying with the latch on his slacks until it released. I could feel his cock pressing against the fabric, hardening beneath my touch. Sliding the zipper down, a groan of release escaped his mouth, warm air spreading out across my neck.
The length of him sprang to life as he pushed the fabric down. “No boxers?” I chuckled, wrapping my fingers around it.
“No,” he grunted, his hands finding my skin once again as he kicked his slacks off. “There weren’t any here and my other pair was soaked through.”
“Is it bad that I think that’s hot?”
“Definitely not.” Lifting himself, he let the shirt fall off his shoulders and down his arms before throwing it off to the side of the bed. “God damn, angel. You look fucking unreal.”
“Really?” I giggled. “I’m fairly sure I have mascara all over my face. You should have warned me to wear waterproof.”
“Mmm, nah,” he purred, reaching to the wall that ran along the side of the bed. He turned the knob that stuck out, dimming the lights above. “I think you look sexy with mascara running down your cheeks.”
He settled himself between my thighs, one hand on my waist and the other beside my head. Warm lips met mine once again, hard and long and aching, a million words between them that had finally been set free. I kissed him back just as eagerly, fingertips drawing circles on his shoulder blades, hips bucking up, begging for more.
“I want to be gentle with you, angel,” he mumbled against my mouth. “Don’t make it hard for me this time. Let me just… live in this moment. Okay?”
I nodded. Within a second, my mind fogged over as his fingers met slick, damp flesh and his mouth closed over my nipple. Pleasure bloomed within me, spreading out through every nerve in my body. “Fuck,” I breathed, tilting my head back and burying it in the plush sheets beneath me.
He circled my clit gently, taking his time, drawing me closer and closer with each little movement, each little lick and nip at my breast. He hummed his approval as my body took over, lifting and begging for more. “I almost want to keep you just like this,” he grunted, his words muffled. “You look so pretty wiggling for me.”
“No,” I groaned, pressing my hips against his once again, the head of his cock just barely against me. “Please, Hudson. I need more.”
He chuckled as he lifted himself, his fingers abandoning my most sensitive spots and wrapping instead around the thickest parts of my thighs. He pushed them up, opening me to him, putting me on display. “Since you asked me so nicely, angel…”
I gasped as he pushed inside, slow and tender, but the girth of him was enough to make my muscles burn as they loosened for him. I dug my nails into his shoulders, watched as he looked down at me with what I could only assume was passion.
Slowly, achingly, he settled. Every piece of him in me, every piece of me in him. “Fuck,” he growled, lowering himself so he was only an inch from my face. “Why does this feel even better now?”
I took his face in my hands and lifted my lips to his. “Because you’re not holding anything back now.”
A small smile spread across his lips as he looked down at me with half-lidded eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m not.”
His hips began to move, pulling back, dragging himself through me before burying himself once again. A rough moan escaped my lips; the sensation was far too heavenly to put words to. Over and over, he rocked his hips, finding just the right angle that sent me spiraling into myself and holding him there. He read my body language, he knew without asking exactly what I wanted, what I needed.
“Damn, angel,” he groaned, his forehead falling to mine. “I want to keep you this way but I can’t reach you like this. Hold on.”
He pushed me further back on the bed, his length slipping from me, and crawled after me. “No,” I whined, wanting that fullness and the brain fog it brought with it back.
“Come on,” he chuckled, sitting back against the headboard and patting his lap. “Show me how well you ride for me, Sophia.”
My mouth watered at his words, and I rolled, forcing myself up onto my hands and knees. I straddled him, hovering just above his cock and took his face in my hands. “Only because you asked so nicely,” I mocked, throwing his words back at him.
Slowly, I sank onto him, filling myself back up and fogging up my mind. “Fuck, yes, angel,” he groaned, one hand on my hip guiding me down until flesh met flesh. The fingers on his other hand snaked between us, finding that sensitive spot between my thighs and began to circle it.
I forced my hips to move, languid and slow, as my forehead dropped to his. I could feel the pleasure beginning to knot in my gut, could feel the telltale signs of a building orgasm deep in my bones. “Oh my god,” I sighed, struggling to keep my concentration on the movement of my hips. Hudson guided them, helping every step of the way. “You have no idea how good that feels.”
He chuckled as he looked up at me, his fingers moving just a little faster. “I have a vague idea.” Briefly, his hand left my waist, pushing the hair back from my face so he could get a better view. “I love you.”
I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged my lips up. “I love you too,” I mumbled, pressing my lips to his and holding him to me. No escape. No running away. I wasn’t going to let that happen anymore.
Every circle, every little nudge of his fingers sent me plummeting over the edge. The climax ripped through me as his movements stuttered, taking everything and more with it, sending me below the waves that sloshed against the walls of the boat and drowning me in the most immense amount of bliss I’d ever felt. I couldn’t hear the sounds I made, couldn’t see through the fog, but Hudson’s words echoed in my head.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
It wasn’t the last time I’d hear it that night. It wasn’t the last time we’d find our ends together, either, and when we’d finally exhausted every drop of energy we had left and couldn’t last another round, Hudson pulled me to his chest and held me close. Our measured breaths filled the room, the waves barely noticeable, and as he turned the lights off and I drifted toward sleep, I could have sworn I heard him say, “Thank you.”
