Found in You


Found in You: Page 41



I wasn't about to ask where. I'd already finished The Talented Mr.
Ripley.

Actually, what I should do was work on the library. Another slew of packages had arrived on Friday and the room was crammed with unopened boxes. I should have unpacked them over the weekend, but I'd been too content to lie around na**d with Hudson, doing nothing but each other. I'd put it off too long. So what if Hudson was already working in there at his desk. We were grown-ups. We could share the space.

Though the library was big, the room felt confined with the tension still lingering between us. Hudson sat at his desk, focused intently on his computer screen. It was as if he didn't even know I was in the room. But he did. Of course, he did. He could seem so single-minded, so compartmentalized, but he was always aware of me in every way, as I was always aware of him. I simply wasn't as good at hiding it as he was.

I took a deep breath and knelt at the stack of boxes furthest from him. Soon, I was wrapped up in the task of unloading and alphabetizing, enjoying the thrill of each newly discovered book title. He'd purchased so many great ones. Classics and contemporaries. Many I'd read, many I wanted to read, many I wanted to reread.

It was after I opened the box with the DVDs that I realized it. Not right away. At first, I was surprised to find the contents were movies rather than books, but I simply started on another section of the shelves and began unloading, not paying too much attention to the titles until I pulled out Midnight Cowboy-the movie Hudson and I had watched while we were in the Hamptons. He'd pulled up the list of AFI's Greatest Movies, a list I was slowly working my way through, and he'd told me to choose one I hadn't seen. I chose Midnight Cowboy.

Seeing it in the box, it hit me. I looked over the titles I'd shelved to be sure, and yep, it was true. Each and every movie was on the AFI list. And the books-I ran to look over the books, paying more attention this time. The Brothers Karamazov, Anna Karenina, Catch-22, Beloved-they were all titles from The Greatest Books list. I'd told Hudson I wanted to read them all before I died. And here he'd bought them for me. Each and every one.

I was suddenly overcome with emotion. It was a strange thing to move me, but it did. Before he'd decided to commit to me, before he'd asked me to come to his penthouse, let alone move in with him, he'd purchased a library full of books and movies tailored specifically to my interests.

He hadn't said I loved you. Maybe he never would. But was there anything this man did that didn't show me how much he did love me?

I was halfway to his desk before I'd even thought about what I was doing. He must have heard me coming, because even though he didn't look at me, he swiveled in his chair, opening toward me a bit. Maybe it had been subconscious, that he aligned himself with me as I often did with him. It was nice to think so.

I fell at his feet, placing my head on his thigh.




He shifted and I could tell that I'd surprised him.

"Make love to me," I said, my face nuzzling against his leg. "Please. Make love to me."

I held my breath as I waited for him to respond. I heard him click his mouse a few times and then set his glasses on the desk-the glasses he only wore when he read or worked on his computer because he was slightly farsighted. There were some things I knew about him.

Then he bent down and lifted me with him to a standing position in one fluid movement.

Cradling me in his arms, he carried me to the bedroom-our bedroom-not a word spoken between us. He laid me on the bed. Silently, with such tenderness, he undressed me, then himself.

He stretched over me and kissed me-every inch of me from head to toe. He lingered in new areas, cherishing my belly button and the spot behind my knee and the sensitive area at my tailbone. Every part of my skin, he lavished with attention, adoring me as he'd never adored me before, yet each touch, each caress felt familiar. Like home.

When at last he settled himself between my thighs, he entered me with slow precision. And it was with sweet, languid strokes that he took me to orgasm, not once, not twice, but three times.

He met my eyes the last time, and we maintained the contact as I rode the wave of euphoria. Then he joined me, moaning low as his cl**ax spiraled into mine, our gazes still fixed on each other. And even when my vision glazed over with fireworks, all I could see was him and love. So much love.


Chapter Seventeen

Hudson was already dressed and bustling around when I awoke the next morning. I peered at him with one eye closed then ventured a look at my watch. It wasn't even quite six yet.

He either saw me stirring or was so in tune with me that he recognized my breathing had left sleep mode. "Do you mind sharing, or do you want your own suitcase?"

I yawned, my brain still fuzzy. "Um, suitcase for what?"

"For Japan."

I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. "Japan? Why would I go to Japan?"

"Because I'm going to make that play for Plexis. And I want you to come with me."

I sat up, realizing I should be concentrating harder on the conversation. Hudson was putting his toiletries into a suitcase propped on a folding luggage rack. A travel bag for suits was already zipped up and hanging on the bedroom door. "When exactly is this happening?"

Hudson stopped packing and flashed his heart-stopping smile-the widest one he had that he used so rarely and which always got the butterflies fluttering in my tummy. He was obviously in a good mood. "The plane's set to take off late tonight. It's a long flight. Might as well sleep. Or, we could not sleep." His eyes gleamed wickedly. "It would be easier to adjust to the time difference if we stayed awake the entire flight." His gaze wandered to my na**d br**sts. "I'm sure we could think of something to occupy our time."

With a frown, I flung the sheet off my legs, rose and headed toward the bathroom. "I can't go to Japan tonight."

"Why not?"

"Because I have work," I called over my shoulder. Thinking of work, I suddenly remembered the whole evening before-Paul and David, and Hudson wanting me to run the club. Then the spectacular lovemaking. I wasn't sure where that left everything.

"So what about work?"

Where were we in our conversation? Oh, yes, Japan. "I have work. You know? That thing you do where you go someplace and make lots of money? Even those of us who don't make lots of money still do the work part. In fact, it's even more necessary for us."

"Anything you need, I can provide. I expect to provide."

I'd left the door open while I peed so I could still hear him clearly. It felt nice having that level of comfort with a guy, but I wasn't so sure about the provide thing he was talking about. "Hey, we just moved in together. Can we step back and keep this on the topic at hand?"

"Fine. But that discussion will come eventually. Sometime soon."

My stomach twisted with both panic and anticipation. Dammit, what was this man doing to me?

"You make your own schedule." His voice seemed close. I looked up to see him leaning in the doorway.

My brow knitted, still hung up on his last statement. I really needed coffee before embarking on such mind-spiraling discussions. "Because I make my own schedule doesn't mean I can leave on a moment's notice."

"Sure you can. I own the club."

"Funny how you pretend you don't until it's convenient for you to remind me."

He grinned but didn't dispute.

"And don't think we're done talking about the club management." I wiped, flushed and washed my hands, flinging droplets of water on him as I pushed past him back to the bedroom.

He followed me as I went to my closet. "I didn't think that for a minute. But right now we're talking about Japan."

"I have a meeting set up with Aaron Trent tomorrow. I can't miss that."

"Reschedule. He'll make time for you."

"That's so tacky." I pulled out a pair of plain cotton underwear. I hadn't showered yet and didn't feel like wasting a pair of nice ones. "He already thinks I rescheduled once."

"Why? I thought it had been he who canceled?"

"Long story." Hudson's eyes stayed glued to me as I pulled on a sports bra. "And you're distracting me from my point."

"I think you're the one distracting me."

"They're put away, you sex fiend. You can surely find my eyes now."

He laughed. Yes, he definitely was in a good mood. "Tell Trent something came up and reschedule." He handed me a pair of running shorts. "He'll understand. I'll make him if I have to."

"You know I want to handle him myself." I stepped into the shorts and found a tank to pair with them.

I grabbed some socks and turned to face him. He was staring at me-not my body-at my face, waiting for me to continue. I sighed. He was serious about the trip. And I was not. I gave it sincere thought for about for fifteen seconds.

The idea still seemed ludicrous.

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