I blush crimson, knowing that as of seven minutes ago, I know exactly what that hardness looks like.
I shake my head to clear it as I reach to turn on the water, trying to shake him out of my thoughts. The aftershave hasn’t changed, and as much as I want to think the man who wears it has with this whole new sober, healthy, helpful and positive Hudson, I know it’s just a new facade. People don’t change, not like that.
But when I step under the hot spray of the water, he’s still in my head; all of him. And as much as I want him gone from my thoughts, as the water teases electrically over my skin, the vivid image of his rock-hard body and his big cock standing a foot away from where I stand now invade every corner of my brain. I’m wet; far wetter than I’d be just from standing under a shower head, and before I can stop it, I’m pushing my hands down over my hips and over my stomach, and sliding them lower. My fingers roll over my aching clit, making me gasp quietly as I lean my forehead against the tile wall. A moan as soft as the steam rising around me escapes my lips as I rub myself there, picturing Hudson standing hot and ripped and naked right in front of me, so close that I can feel the heat from his body, and then closer still as I feel the throbbing heat of his erection press against my thigh. I picture myself letting him go further then, instead of pushing him away like I did. His mouth is on mine, sliding down to suck one of my nipples into his mouth before he slides lower still until he’s sliding his tongue deep into my wetness as I buck against his mouth. I moan again, louder this time as I slide a finger over my entrance and push it inside. I’m squeezing my eyes shut tight, already feeling myself start to tumble as I rock my hips to grind my clit against the palm of my hand as I picture Hudson wrapping my legs around his muscled waist and sliding that big, hard-
The bathroom door slams open; “Is my toothbrush-”
“Hudson!” But it’s not a cry of anger or shock, or even surprise; it’s me crying out his name as I come. And gasping out his name as my body begins to shatter pushes me tumbling over that sweet edge as my climax explodes through me.
“I- uh-” His voice is choked, and as I look up through the semi-frosted clear shower curtain, I see him staring at me as he backs out of the room; “Sorry.”
The door shuts, and I slump against the wall, feeling like I want to turn to liquid and let the water pelting down on top of me carry me right down the drain along with it.
It’s a frosted shower curtain, so- no, there’s no way-
The water and the steam swirl around me as I slide to my knees in the tub and curl my legs up to my chin as I rock myself. He couldn’t have; God he couldn't have.
10
Hudson
P A S T
“Here, drink up.” Rob from accounting slides me a glass of amber liquid, and I wonder for the ninth time why the fuck I came out to a damn club tonight. To blend in, I guess? To go out with some of the “guys from the office” and be a normal person maybe? In any case, this is going from a stupid to a terrible idea really fast as I find myself staring at the glass in front of me with the hunger of a man who hasn’t eaten in a year. Some people keep a medallion of some kind around like some sort of stupid talisman or lucky charm that they can attach themselves to when they start to feel weak about relapsing.
I carry the bullet they pulled out of my shoulder in my pocket.
I smile at Rob and Hiro, and some guy who’s name I’m pretty sure is Mike; “Naw, I’m good, thanks though man.”
Hiro frowns at me; “You did see the year on that bottle this shit came out of right?”
I force out a laugh; “Yeah, looks like good stuff.” It looks like mana from the Gods and I want to guzzle the whole fucking bottle, but I can’t do that you fucking pricks.
Rob looks at me quizzically; “Wait, are you really not gonna drink it? Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. Thanks though.”
“Dude, just have a fuckin drink.” Probably-Mike says, sipping on the scotch in his hand.
“I said fucking no, ok?” I clench my fists, feeling the rage hit me harder than I was thinking it would. I need some new fucking friends.
They all give me strange looks and I shake my head; “Sorry, I’ve just got a long day tomorrow at work.”
That seems to be the magic word as Rob nods empathetically; “Old Man Archer got you working on the West Side Highway project huh?”
No, actually I’m just distracted by the fact that I can’t get Old Man Archer’s DAUGHTER out of my fucking head for even a second. ”Mhmm, yeah, it’s a doozy.”
There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see 120 pounds of sex just staring at me with dark brown eyes and a hot pink dress; “Hey, you wanna dance?”