Page 58 of Wrecking Us
“I-I didn’t know. I was just in the area and thought it would be nice to surprise you.”
“I hate surprises!” I nearly shout. “And I know you didn’t know that, but you do now, so just… please, don’t do that again.”
His eyebrows furrow a bit and he frowns. He holds his hands up in defense. His blue eyes find mine and he holds my gaze.
“I won’t. I swear. I’m so sorry, Huds.” He steps closer to me, and though my first instinct is to back away, I can’t seem to find it in me to do so. I look up at him. “I just wanted to see you… and I thought it would be a good idea, but I see now that it wasn’t.”
I take a deep breath and nod.
“You didn’t know.”
He shakes his head.
I work to keep my heart rate down and relax.
Then it hits me. Here I am, standing in front of Trey. I look at him, taking in the details I was too infuriated to see earlier.
He still looks smooth, with his silk button down, even though he’s rolled up the sleeves and popped the top buttons. His black slacks are tailored and fit his body like a glove. My gaze roves back up to his face—his facial hair neatly trimmed, his dark hair slightly messy, but somehow still polished.
I’ve missed him more than I’d ever like to admit, and even tried to avoid it. I was the one who told him what happened between us didn’t have to be anything, and I have to stick to my word. I won’t freak him out, and I won’t make this difficult for us. Neither one of us has mentioned anything about whathappened at the hotel that night. I assume if he enjoyed it, he’d want to talk about it, yet he hasn’t brought it up. So, it’s just like this secret we have now, I guess. Trey says nothing as he holds my gaze. Almost as if he’s unsure of what to do or say. His gaze softens along with my resolve.
“It’s nice to see you,” I say, which causes him to smile and the tension in the room to die down.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “It’s nice to see you too, Huds.” And just like that, the silence doesn’t feel so suffocating. His smile isn’t fake. Not like it was earlier. Some people you can just tell when they are being truthful, when they mean it. Trey’s one of those people. He holds his arms out, and I hug him. It feels good. I squeeze him a little tighter, and he squeezes me right back. His hold on me tightens and I let out a heavy sigh. When I breathe in, I get a whiff of his scent—some odd mix of something sweet I can’t quite place, mixed with something musky and spicy. It’s oddly relaxing, though I know it shouldn’t be. We stay like that for longer than is appropriate for ahello, I haven’t seen you in a while and we’re just friendshug. But I don’t have many things in life that feel good, and this does, so I don’t want to let it go.
“You good, Huds?” he asks quietly.
I don’t answer. I just keep hugging him. He’s warm and his tight grip on me feels too good to give up.
I have no idea how long it’s been when we pull apart. Our eyes meet, and I’ve never craved kissing someone before. Not like this.
He licks his lips, still holding my gaze, almost like he’s having the same thoughts I am, but… we said we weren’t going to make a thing out of this and we haven’t talked about it and…
“I really want to kiss you right now,” he says, his words soft, almost scared. “I’m sorry if that’s weird.”
“It’s not,” I say, grabbing the back of his neck and going in for a kiss.
Chapter Seventeen
Trey
Hudson grasps the back of my neck and pulls me toward him, his lips finding mine with precision. His kiss isn’t sweet by any means. I’m more than aware that no one has ever kissed me like this. Like theycravemy mouth, my tongue.
Like they craveme.
I pull him to me, needing to be closer. My hands slide over the waistband of his pants, unsure of where to rest them. On his waist, his back. His ass. His body isn’t soft or pliable, not like a woman’s. It’s hard and smooth, and heavier than what I’m used to. He could totally crush me if he wanted to. My dick jumps at the thought of his solid body pressed against mine, pinning me down, making it impossible to escape him. I can’t decidewhere to put my hands, so I don’t overthink it and let them run rhythmically up and down his spine and over his hips, my fingers grazing the top of his ass with each pass until I finally relax and let my palms settle there. Part of me expects him to react—to smack my hands away or shove me, maybe even put an end to this, because clearly this isn’t what we’re supposed to be doing. But… he doesn’t. My hands slowly slide over the curve of his ass, getting used to the feel of it. It’s smooth, round, and firm. I squeeze it, and Hudson deepens the kiss and distracts me with his tongue. I groan as I respond in tandem.
Hudson keeps one hand on the back of my neck while his free hand grabs my hip as he kisses me with a ferocious hunger that reminds me all too much of the way he used to play on the field.
I take his bottom lip between my teeth and bite it, which elicits a grunt from him, and his grip on my waist tightens. When we pull apart, he looks up at me with hazy eyes and pouty, kiss-swollen lips, and I think we should probably stop what we’re doing—but…
I don’t want to stop. And he’s not stopping me, either, so I lean down and kiss him again, pushing him toward the sliding glass door that leads to the oversized deck. He stumbles, not expecting the force, and I can’t help but grin as I kiss him again. And again. I don’t want to stop kissing him. It’s like some switch has flipped in my brain. I don’t want this, Ineedit. I need him.
I place both hands on his chest and push him back against the glass. His back hits it with a thud as I press myself against him. He could easily overpower me, but something tells me he won’t. Something tells me he doesn’t want to escape either. A flurry of thoughts and feelings rush through me, confusing and slightly overwhelming, but the minute he groans into my mouth, thrusting himself against me, I forget about anything else. All there is, is this electricity, this rush that exists in the spacebetween us. He grinds his hardness against me, and I meet his thrust with one of my own.
“Fuck, Trey—” His voice is dark, yet nearly breathless.
My hands travel down his chest, my fingers grazing the edge of his waistband. I flick the latch on his belt, the metal cool against my skin. My lips travel from his mouth to his jaw as I bite and nip my way over to that spot on his neck that’s calling me. I lick the spot before sucking on it, and he curses. So I keep doing it. I bite and suck and lick his neck and grindmydick against him. Hudson’s hands are everywhere—in my hair, on my neck, sliding up and down my chest.
