Four Letter Word (Love Logic #2) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,61
space between us. My heart continues to flail, my pulse thundering in my ears.
“Everything’s great. I meant to come over earlier, but…” I lick my lips, shifting in my seat. There are too many ways to finish the sentence—but I’m an idiot, but I miss you so much it practically paralyzed me, but I’m fucking in love with you and am terrified to tell you out loud…
“Bish, whatever you want to say, it’s fine,” Hudson assures me, inching closer and putting a hand on my back.
My chest is rising and falling with rapid breaths, and none of the words in my head feel exactly right. “I’m sorry,” I say, turning to look at Hudson, his face bathed in moonlight as he gazes at me with concern.
“Sorry?” he repeats.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away. I was being an idiot.”
I can see the wheels turning in his eyes as he works out what I’m saying, the corner of his lips tilting in a cautious smile after a few seconds. “Being an idiot is usually my job,” he points out.
“I know. I don’t think I liked it much; I’ll gladly give you the title back,” I joke, and he lets out a rusty laugh.
“Are you saying we don’t have to cool it anymore?”
“Yes, now kiss me, dumbass,” I tease, not waiting for him to do as I say before I grab the back of his neck and drag him to me.
His mouth is everything I remember, soft and commanding all at once. His rough stubble abrades my cheeks as our lips slide against each other. He moans, and the sound is muffled by the kiss, his hands slipping under my shirt as he pushes me onto my back and climbs on top of me. I missed the warm, familiar weight of his body on me, the flavor of his tongue as it pushes past my lips to lick into my mouth, the hard, heavy feeling of his erection against mine.
“Bishop,” he murmurs my name as I drag my fingers down his back to grab his ass.
“Hudson, fuck, I missed you,” I groan, bucking my hips against him. I didn’t bother to put on jeans before I slipped out of the apartment, and the lightweight material of my pajama pants aren’t doing much to contain my arousal. I can feel the heat of his erection pressed against mine through the thin layers of our clothes.
“Come to bed with me,” he says, sitting back and reaching for my hand to pull me up.
“Yes,” I answer, lacing my fingers through his and following him down the hallway.
He groans, turning to me as we walk. “Say it again.”
“What?” I chuckle. “Yes?”
Hudson groans again, dragging me closer and kissing me without breaking his stride, moving backward down the hallway toward his bedroom. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pressing myself closer as I stumble after him, chasing his lips and his steps at the same time.
My whole body is tingling with anticipation, my brain switching to autopilot from his taste alone. How many times have we stumbled down his hallway just like this? How many ways have we made each other fall apart? Too many to count. But this is different. This isn’t because we’re drunk or horny or bored; this is the start of something real.
Except I still haven’t said what I need to say. The realization is like a douse of cold water. I tear my mouth away from Hudson’s as we step into his bedroom.
“I have to tell you something.” He grabs the hem of my shirt and tugs it up until I lift my arms and let him pull it over my head, merely grunting in acknowledgement of what I said and kissing along my throat. “Hudson, listen for a second.” I push on his shoulder, and he stops kissing me, pulling back and looking at me, his eyes boring into mine.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to get carried away.” He wipes the back of his hand over his damp lips. “Go ahead.”
“I lied,” I blurt, and his face pales. Oh shit, I’m fucking this up. “Not tonight,” I rush to assure him. “I lied five years ago when I told you I wanted to keep things casual. I wanted you so much, and I was afraid you’d never feel the same way, so I was trying to protect myself.”