My Kind of Wonderful Page 56

But then he rocked against her with the exact right pressure and rhythm, and she gasped.

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

Well, finally. She obliged, kissing him with all the pent-up heat and hunger in her heart. She’d been craving this, starving for this with a man. This man.

They went nuclear then, tugging at clothing, their hands battling each other to get skin to skin until with a frustrated growl Hud drew back and ripped her—his—shirt open, sending buttons flying across the room.

She moved against him, trying to get him inside of her. But he held her off, his mouth moving from her mouth to her throat, to the curve of her exposed shoulder and then her breast. He teased her nipples, sucking them into his mouth, then pulling back to blow on them so that they tightened even further, making her writhe beneath him.

When he seemed satisfied that she was completely out of control, he shifted down her body. With a whimper of gratitude she threaded her hands into his hair, trying to guide him to the spot where she needed him, but he pulled her hands free and held them in his, one on either side of her.

“Hurry,” she demanded. Nicely of course.

He flashed her a hot smile. “We’re not on my desk or on the floor,” he said. “We’re in my big, comfy bed. You’re not going to hurry me.”

Damn. Had she actually thought she liked his alpha side?

Ignoring her plaintive whimpers, his big hands slid to her inner thighs. He held them open for his mouth, which made its torturously slow way from her stomach to her hipbone and then finally headed south.

She quivered and felt him smile against her. “Patience,” he said.

Not her strong suit. In fact, words like hurry, now, and faster were running through her mind and as if he could tell, he let out a huff of laughter against her skin.

“Dammit, Hud—” She broke off as his tongue flickered out and touched her, and she moaned shamelessly.

Then his mouth descended and she lost herself. Just as, when she was with him like this, she was found. Simple and terrifying as that.

When he’d peeled her off the ceiling, he came up with a condom and slid into her, making her cry out his name.

“So good.” His voice was low and rough in her ear. “You always feel so good wrapped around me.” Pushing up to his knees, he lifted her along with him so that she straddled him now—which seated him even more deeply within her—and she gasped.

He slowly rocked his hips against hers. “Okay?”

So okay she couldn’t speak, she could only nod and clutch at him. Every time he ground into her she whimpered for more. He crushed his lips to her and she plastered herself to him, unwilling to let him go. Ever. Needing to maintain contact with his skin, to feel the heat of his desire, to hear him groan her name as he pushed deep inside her, she held on tight, so tight.

But then he pulled away—just far enough that their lips were no longer touching and their eyes could meet—and held her gaze as he moved slow and steady, his chest brushing hers with his every thrust, his big hands hard at her hips, holding her where he wanted her.

Staring into his eyes, she searched but didn’t have to look far to see everything she felt for him mirrored right back at her.

After, he tucked her into his side and covered them both up. She thought she could be happy in the warm, strong circle of his arms forever. There was no doubt in her mind. She’d fallen in love with Cedar Ridge, with the people in it, with the life she’d made for herself here…

With Hudson Kincaid.

She’d experienced a few epiphanies in her life, but right there in Hud’s bed with a new day dawning, she had another. She’d been given a new lease on life and she was so grateful. But now she dared to hope for more, that she could have that new lease on life and love.

Don’t worry about if you can do it, Bailey-Bean, just pretend you can. Pretend enough and it becomes real.

And thinking it, hope blossomed.

Because yes, this whole thing had started as a line item on a list of things she wanted to do to fulfill her life, and yet instead Cedar Ridge had become that life.

But Hud had been right. She wasn’t the list. Not even close. For the first time, she wasn’t worried about what happened next. She could actually control that and she knew what she wanted.

To be here, with Hud, for as long as he’d have her.

Yes, there were a whole lot of things she didn’t yet know, such as whether she would continue to go back and forth, or move here and freelance from Cedar Ridge. But the beauty of her job was she could do whatever she wanted. It’d take some work and it would also involve a lot of compromising, but it would be worth it.

So worth it.

All that was left was to find a way to tell Hud what she was thinking so they could talk about it. Plan. She couldn’t think of a better time than right now, lying in his arms as she was. She’d just come right out and say it. Hud, I’m in this, all the way.

But Hud hadn’t moved, not so much as a muscle twitch. His breathing came slow and deep and steady—he was out. She knew how exhausted he had to be and the truth was, she wasn’t that far behind him. She could wait. They could wait. There was no hurry, no need to rush this at all. In fact, she should do the opposite of rush, since she now had all the time in the world.

The thought made her smile. She had two weeks of work left on the mural. She would just enjoy those two weeks and enjoy Hud. And let things happen. She had other jobs on the horizon, things she needed to firm up. There was a possible graphic arts job for a pub in London, which, if she was lucky, she could also finagle into a trip over there to see them in person and knock something else off her list. She also had things cooking closer to home. She’d line them up and see where things took her.

And then, when she finished the mural, if Hud hadn’t said anything about them in the meantime, she would. She’d tell him how she felt about him—while sober this time—and they’d go from there.

Yeah, she thought with a yawn, that worked. And thinking about it all with a smile on her face, she followed him into dreamland.

Chapter 28

As often happened during the ski season, the following two weeks came and passed in a complete blur for Hudson. He spent every second during the day on the mountain, whether on the ski runs or in the office, and plenty of graveyard shifts in town on the police schedule to boot.

But it was the weekends where he found himself thriving, able to feel Bailey’s presence in his life even when she was working on the mural and he was in uniform or on the mountain.

They’d claimed the nights for themselves though, and had made the most of every hour, every single moment.

And all those moments had him both flying high and also on edge.

Because it was almost over.

They spent a lot of time with each other’s tongues down their throats but not a single moment discussing what happened next.

Because Hud knew.

He’d heard her on her phone several times in the past weeks making plans for future graphic design jobs, which he got. Her job was fluid. She had to always be looking for the next job. And one of them was in England, where he knew she wanted to knock out another item on her list—taking a walking tour of English and Scottish castles.

She’d even talked about making a side trip to Paris, taking ballroom dancing lessons while she was there just because she could. He was thrilled for her, sincerely to-the-bone thrilled.

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