Page 56 of Paper Horses

The door clicked shut, and Hudson took his hat off, hanging it back on the hook. “Tell me again that you didn’t want to leave,” he said, his tone gruff. “Tell me you picked that fight and that your words were nothing but lies.”

My bottom lip trembled, a chill spreading through my body. Fear encompassed me. Fear that I’d lost him, that I had lost my second chance, that telling him the truth had only worsened things.

“They were lies. All of them. Each one like acid on my tongue. I swear, Hudson.” Saying his name was akin to standing on broken glass, the shards piercing me. “You were my everything, and giving you up…hurting you…” I couldn’t make the words form; my tears were too heavy now that they had escaped their prison.

He shrugged his coat off, dropping it to the floor, and covered the space between us in long strides until he was upon me. His eyes searched mine, soulful, expressive, caring. He placed his hands on my cheeks and wiped my tears away.

“Did you still love me the day you left me?” he asked.

“Yes. It hurt so bad.” My voice broke, and more tears flowed.

He rested his forehead on mine, still holding my face.

“And now?”

I sucked in a shaky breath, the sound like a violent shudder. “I never stopped loving you.”

He closed his eyes, breathing me in.

“Fuck, Olivia. All this time…”

“But you stopped loving me,” I whimpered, the agony ripping all my scabs open. “You moved on, and I lost you.”

He tipped his head back, his eyes dark and emotional. “No, you never did. I couldn’t let you go, Olivia. No matter how I tried.”

“But you…you dated and⁠—”

His smirk stopped my words. “And you had your flings.” Guilt shot through me, but he brushed his thumb over my cheek, his fingers sinking into my hair. “And I have loved no one but you, Olivia Icinda.”

I drew a breath that scalded my throat. “No one? But Jessie…” How I hated saying her name in this moment. A woman who had him when I couldn’t. But his words were still bouncing through my head. He loved no one else? Did that mean he still loved me?

“I never loved her. I tried.” He closed his eyes. “I tried for her, but I couldn’t. I told her once to make her feel better, but it wasn’t the truth, and she knew it, because my heart was never hers.”

“Whose was it?” A hushed question with a plea embedded in it.

“Yours. It’s always been yours, Olivia.”

His kiss stopped my response. Heated and needy, it curved its way through my body, crashing through the remaining walls I’d built and peeling back the scabs, leaving my heart bloody and alive for the first time since he had first brought it to life. I grabbed his shirt, fisting the material in my hand as his hands bunched my hair, forcing my mouth further into his. His tongue slipped over the seam of my lips, and I parted them, letting him in as warmth spread through my body.

Hands, rough and large, encircled my neck, his fingers splayed, thumbs stroking. Breathless, I whimpered as they dropped to my waist and picked me up. My legs wrapped around him, the robe splitting, my thighs rubbing against his jeans. He planted me on the island where, the prior night, his touches had been gentle and caring. Now they were aggressive and demanding, drawing out the heat in me until it was like an inferno, turning my insides into ashes. His hands pushed at the robe, exposing my shoulders, and he dragged his mouth down my cheek and over my neck before he brought his hands back to my hair, twisting his fingers into it and drawing my head back.

My lips parted, a ragged exhale escaping them.

“Tell me you love me, Olivia.” Commanding and hoarse. Eyes flaring with hunger.

“I love you, Hudson.”

He closed his eyes as if he were savoring the words, letting them settle before they opened again.

“Fuck,” he growled, smashing his mouth to mine, his kiss flaming through me. I clung to his shoulders, my entire being his for the taking. His hand dropped to the tie on my robe. “Tell me what you want, honey.”

My eyes rolled back, my fingers digging into his shirt as anticipation coiled in me. What did I want? The one thing I’d craved and thought I’d never have again. Content to live life empty and without him.

“You,” I breathed. “Only you.”

The tie fell, the robe following. His hands were everywhere, lighting sparks across my skin. He cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple just as he grabbed my butt and shoved me into his bulge. Goosebumps shot over my skin at the thought of the pleasure it would bring. He swept his hand over the island, sending things crashing to the floor before his mouth trailed a path down my neck to my chest, where he reminded me of why no other man’s touch had ever worked my body the way his did.

“Fuck, I missed this body,” he grumbled as I shoved my fingers into his hair.