My chest caves.
He filmed it.
He stood there and filmed the worst moment of Hudson’s life like it was entertainment.
Something hot and vicious tears through so fast it makes my vision blur, and I’m on my feet before I even realize I moved.
My fist slams through the drywall with a sickening crack. Pain explodes through my knuckles, but it barely registers.
All I can see is red.
I stare at the hole in the wall, breathing hard, before dragging both hands over my face and forcing the rage back down where it belongs.
Then I delete the video.
Pulling myself together, I splash some cold water on my face and brush my teeth. I grab my phone from where I left it on the counter and call Hudson on the way to my truck.
“Morning, babe,” he yawns into the phone. The tight knot in my chest eases slightly, but not enough to quell the storm raging inside of me.
“I’m coming over,” I bite out, tearing out of the driveway and speeding down the street.
“Is everything okay? You sound upset.”
“We can talk when I get there. I just—I need to see you.”
And it’s the truth. I need to see him with my own eyes to make sure he’s still actually here with me, and that I’m not living in some dream that’ll shatter when I wake up.
“Okay. How long before—never mind, I hear you pulling up.”
I hang up the phone without so much as a goodbye and bound up the front steps.
Hud is already waiting, the front door wide open. He stands there shirtless, his basketball shorts slung so low it’d only take a gentle tug to send them sliding the rest of the way down. He’s lost some muscle mass from being in the hospital, but he’s still so fucking beautiful.
Something on my face must give me away.
Hudson’s expression shifts instantly. He grabs me by the neck and backs me against the wall beside the door, kicking it shut behind me before his mouth crashes into mine.
The kiss is rough. Possessive.
Grounding.
My hands fist in his shorts as I kiss him back harder, desperate for the noise in my head to shut up for a while.
“On your knees,” he whispers against my lips.
Fuck yes. I drop without hesitation, dragging his basketball shorts down with me. He steps out of them and kicks them to the side.
His cock bobs in front of me, already hard and begging to be sucked—but I wait. I need him to tell me what to do.
“Stick your tongue out,” he rasps.
I obey, holding perfectly still. He slides the crown of his cock over my tongue, teasing himself with shallow strokes. My hands curl into fists at my sides, the restraint burning through me.
“What do you need, Cull?”
“To forget. Just… for a little while.”
Hud glances around the foyer, his eyes landing on the stairs. “Up,” he commands, tugging me toward them. He pushes me down, then kneels between my parted legs.
