"Do what?" He knew what. He could see it in Shaw’s eyes.
"You know what I’m talking about. Either do something about it or shut the fuck up."
Hudson's pulse kicked into overdrive.
Shaw was looking, waiting.
"Scared?" Shaw asked, pushing his buttons.
"Fuck you.”
Hudson couldn't move. His eyes dropped to Shaw’s mouth for half a second before coming back up. But it was all the confirmation Shaw needed.
Shaw kissed him. Hard and aggressive and nothing like Hudson had imagined a kiss could be. There was no softness to it, no exploration, only Shaw's mouth on his, demanding and possessive andholy shitHudson's brain was short-circuiting.
He kissed back just as hard, trying to prove… something. He wasn’t quite sure what. They were still half-wrestling, hands grabbing at clothing. When he bit Shaw's bottom lip, mostly on accident, the sound that escaped him made Hudson’s body light up like this was the best fucking idea ever.
He was kissing a man. Couldn’t stop kissing a man, apparently. Something he had never once imagined doing.
Okay, that was a lie. He'd been thinking about it for weeks without admitting it, and now that it was happening his brain couldn't decide if it was freaking out or just… not.
Shaw pulled away slightly. "Wanna back out?"
Every rational part of Hudson's brain screamedyes. This was crazy. They were in the middle of nowhere, they still had to work together for weeks, and what the fuck did it mean that he was hard just from Shaw's mouth on his?
But Shaw gave him that challenging look, and Hudson had never backed down from a challenge in his entire life.
“I’m not backing out.” His voice came out more uncertain than he intended.
Shaw searched his face for a long moment. “You sure about that?”
No.He looked at Shaw's mouth and something hot and desperate coiled in his gut. “Yeah… I’m sure.”
Shaw kissed him again, slower this time but no less intense. He tried to keep up, tried to match that confidence, but his hands shook as they found Shaw's jacket. This was new territory. The rough scratch of Shaw's jaw. His calloused hands on Hudson’s chest. The solid weight of him.
His brain tried to catalog it all, make sense of it, but when Shaw's tongue entered his mouth, rational thought became impossible.
“Relax,” Shaw murmured against his lips.
“I am.”
“You’re tense as hell.” His hand slid down Hudson’s chest, deliberate and sure. “Just… let me.”
Hudson wanted to argue, to say something, but Shaw’s hand kept moving lower and he forgot how to form words. When Shaw’s fingers worked open his belt, Hudson’s breath caught.
“This okay?” Shaw asked, voice low.
He nodded because he didn’t trust his voice. His heart hammered so hard Shaw must have felt it. This was actually happening. He didn’t know what he was doing or what it meant or?—
Shaw’s hand slipped inside his pants and Hudson’s hips jerked involuntarily.
“Fuck,” Hudson breathed.
Shaw's hand was in his boxers and—shit. This felt good. Really fucking good. Wasn't that information he should've known?
Completely different than anything he’d tried before, Shaw’s hand was rough and sure and nothing like the many female hands he’d had around his cock. This was a man’s hand. And Hudson’s body responded in ways that made his entire understanding of himself tilt sideways.
“That good?” Shaw smirked, cocky as hell.
