Chapter 29

Fisher

It waslate by the time we got back to Hudson's place. My place now, too. We'd dropped my friends off and picked up the last of my belongings to bring out to the houseboat.

Hudson grunted as he threw a duffel bag up to the deck from his smaller boat below. It nearly didn't make it over the edge, and I snagged a strap before it could fall into the lake.

I hadn't given much thought to the logistics of moving a whole lot of crap from boat to boat. Good thing Hudson was strong as fuck.

He huffed a loud breath as he finally climbed onto the deck, one last box under his right arm. I hurried to take it from him so he could more easily climb aboard.

My arms jerked down with its weight. "Damn, this is heavy."

"I noticed," he said dryly. "What's in there? Bowling balls?"

"Nah. It's books." At his look of surprise, I added, "What? I wouldn't really be home without my Game of Thrones, Dune, and Belgariad collections!"

He chuckled. "No, it's fine. I just didn't take you for a big reader. You're always so sun-baked."

I glanced down at my arms, but dusk had washed out my tan. "I work outdoors a lot, yeah, but during the winter months, I practically hibernate with my books. I hope you're prepared to live with a hermit? That's not a deal-breaker, is it?"

Hudson took the box back from me, dropping a kiss to my head. "There's no such thing as a deal-breaker with you, Fishie."

"What did I say about calling me Fishie? No sex."

"Really?" Hudson's mouth twitched. "Not even to christen your new home?"

I picked up two duffel bags of clothes from the deck with a huff. "Well, that's not playing fair."

"I was going to let you top me tonight too." He shot me a playful smirk. "There's a lot of firsts we haven't tried out yet."

I sucked in my bottom lip, heat unfurling through me. I'd spent a lot of time fantasizing about Hudson fucking me, but I'd never given much thought to the opposite. Now that he mentioned it though…

"Fine, you can call me Fishie, but only if we're alone."

Hudson set the box down just inside his bedroom door. "You've got a deal."

I tossed my duffels down beside it. "And never during sex, or it really will ruin the mood."

"Got it."

"And—"

"Fishie," he cut in, his voice velvety soft. "How about we christen your new bedroom and talk later?"

I swayed toward him, too weak for the man to stand my ground. When he said Fishie in that tone, it wasn't so bad.

"Okay." I slipped my arms around his waist and tilted my face up to kiss him.

"Welcome home," he murmured.

His mouth came down on mine, and I clung to him as he bent me backward over his arm. I stumbled under the unyielding force of his kiss, and we fell onto the bed with a laugh.

Hudson pinned me down, and I loved his size, his weight, the sheer overwhelming presence of him. As usual, I was the first one to lose patience and yank his shirt up. Hudson didn't try to slow me down, seeming just as urgent as me tonight.

After the contentious meeting with his ex, I didn't blame him. We both craved this chance to reconnect.

"You're so incredibly sweet," he said as his beard tickled my inner thighs, and I spread my legs wide, not an ounce of modesty in me after all the ways Hudson had appreciated my body these past weeks.

"I'm not sweet," I protested. "I'm sexy."

"You're sweet and sexy." He followed his comment with a lick up the underside of my cock, and who was I to argue with brilliance?

I moaned softly as he took me into his mouth, sucking too gently to get me off. This was a tease, just an appetizer of what was to come.

"Did you mean it?" I asked as I twitched under his talented mouth.

He pulled off, lips glistening with saliva. "That you're sweet? Hell yes. Sexy too."

"No, about…me fucking you?"

"Oh." His lips curled up. "Do you want to?"

My heart thudded. "Yeah, if…if you like it? I love bottoming, so it's not something I need, but I want you any which way I can have you."

His gaze traveled slowly up my body, making my skin tingle under the weight of it. My nipples tightened into harder peaks. His lingering look was as erotic as any physical touch, and my body vibrated with need.

"I feel the same. I want all of you to be mine. Every way possible."

I shuddered. "Then take me. Ride my cock."

"Topping from the bottom, huh?"

I started to sit up. "Oh, I can—"

Hudson pushed me down and kissed me hard. "I'm just teasing. I love the idea of riding you."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

Everything happened quickly then. Hudson rolled away to grab lube, then reached behind himself with slick fingers.

"Let me see," I begged.

He turned, showing me his ass as his thick fingers thrust in and out of his hole. Hudson was rough with himself, fucking hard and fast with little finesse, and it sent such a strong surge of lust through me I had to grasp the base of my cock to avoid shooting at the sight.

"Fuck," I mumbled. "You're gonna take my cock so good."

"I'm ready," he said, turning back to face me with a grin. "Did you like the show?"

"Hell yeah. Your ass is gorgeous. But I could have prepped you. I could have rimmed you, even. That would be fun."

His nostrils flared. "Next time."

Next time.Such glorious words. I loved all the first times Hudson had given me, but it was the next times I'd truly cherish. Because next time meant we weren't just enjoying the moment but planning for a future together too.

It would be the next times that would keep us coming together, sharing our strengths, shoring up our weaknesses, through pleasure and pain and everything in between.

Hudson straddled my waist, putting his feet beneath him to crouch over me. He was a huge man, casting a large shadow on the wall, but somehow that only made it sexier as he pressed back and my cock began to enter the tight, hot confines of his body.

We groaned together as he sank down, my cock reaching deeper and deeper until his ass was flush to my groin.

"How's it feel to be inside me?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"So fucking good. How are you this tight? Thought I was the virgin."

He chuckled, tipping forward to kiss me. "You're not a virgin anymore. Haven't been for a while, I'd say."

"I guess not."

"I haven't done this for a very long time though." He eased up a couple of inches then rocked back, making me hiss with pleasure.

"Really?" His words shouldn't matter. He could have let someone fuck him right before we got together, so long as he was all mine now. But knowing that he didn't do this often made his offer tonight more significant. "Because you don't prefer it or…"

He rocked again, setting off small sparks of pleasure, but not yet going hard. I sensed he needed the time to adjust.

"I like it with the right person. Just need a lot of trust first, and…well, I hadn't seriously dated in a long time. But I really like the feel of you pressing inside me. Do you like it?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm dying for more."

"Then let's give it to you."

He rolled his hips, taking me deeper and faster. I gasped as his body squeezed me, stroked me, ratcheting my pleasure higher and higher. Hudson moved faster and harder, slamming his ass down on my thighs so hard they were likely to bruise, and I loved it. But I could tell he wanted more, that he wanted a pounding.

I pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Wait."

He paused, breathing hard. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just…" I pushed his arm. "Let's change positions."

He raised up, and cool air swept over my now exposed cock, making me shiver.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Whatever position will let me fuck you the hardest."

He grinned and shifted to all fours on the bed. "I like the way you think."

I got to my knees behind him, lined up, and thrust in. Hudson dropped his chest flat to the mattress with a grunt as I impaled him.

"Good?"

"Y-yeah, keep going."

I palmed his beautiful ass, then slid my hands up to grip his hips and thrust in hard and fast, setting up a rhythm that had me panting and grunting like a wild animal. Hudson turned to putty, moaning and groaning with each stroke.

I shifted my angle, and he pushed back hard, making me grind deeper.

"There," he growled. "Right fucking there."

I fucked him with the focus of a surgeon then, intent on giving him the most pleasure possible. Hudson slipped a hand underneath himself, his arm flexing as he frantically jerked off.

"Want you to come with me inside," I gasped out. "Want to feel it."

"I'm almost—" He broke off with a guttural groan, body shaking, and his ass clamped down tight around my cock, squeezing in waves.

"Oh fuck." My body took over, my hips jerking as I spilled inside him.

The slickness of my cum only heightened the pleasure, but as my orgasm washed through me, my limbs gave out and I collapsed onto his back.

I turned my head, sucking in deep breaths, and caught sight of the shadow on the wall once more. A slender body, laid over a large one, but when I squinted, we looked more like one large body, and there was a metaphor in there somewhere, but I was too blissed out to find it.

"How'd you like that merger?" I muttered.

Beneath me, Hudson laughed, his body clenching around my softening cock. "It was perfect, Fishie."

The nickname didn't bother me now. In fact, the affection soaked into it made me smile. Maybe now that I didn't have to worry about Hudson seeing me as a man, I even kind of liked it.

Hudson

I lay beneath Fisher, body thrumming with satisfaction. A smile overtook my face. It wasn't just my body that was sated, but my whole being.

Physical, emotional, conscious, subconscious—all the levels of awareness I possessed—were utterly content with the love I had for this sweet, incredibly sexy man.

Fisher kissed my shoulder, then said playfully, "You conditioned me to like that silly nickname."

"Did I?" I chuckled. "Well, isn't that a happy coincidence?"

Fisher swatted my ass lightly. "You're trouble."

It wasn't so long ago that had been my line, but Fisher had turned out to be the best trouble I could have ever gotten myself into. I wriggled contentedly. "I'll call you anything you want, Fisher."

"Yeah? How about the best fuck you've ever had?"

"Goes without saying."

"Sex god?"

I chuckled. "Sex demigod, maybe."

"I'll take it." Fisher pulled out, leaving me achingly empty. But he snuggled into my arms, nudging me onto my back so he could rest his head on my shoulder, filling a different void in me. "We should probably shower."

"Mm-hmm." I carded my hand through his hair. "But you sound tired."

Fisher yawned. "I haven't been sleeping the best these past couple of nights."

I squeezed him a little tighter. "I'm sorry."

"It's not because of you," he said. "Being with you has been great, but this resort meeting has me tied in knots."

"You've got a good plan."

He exhaled noisily, his breath raising goosebumps on my exposed chest. "I hope I can pull it off."

"You will, sweetheart. I have no doubts."

"I'm glad one of us believes," he grumbled.

"Well, hey, you believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Only fair I take a turn, right?"

Fisher tilted his head back to look me in the eye. "I really appreciate your support. I'm just nervous."

With the meeting coming up tomorrow, I wasn't surprised. But Fisher had done everything he could to counter the Wexlers' plans.

"I know it's nerve-racking, but you've got this. You've got a great plan, the resources to make it happen, and a whole lot of friends in Swallow Cove. They love you more than you think, and they'll follow your lead. Just trust yourself, and everything will work out."

"But what if it doesn't?"

I hesitated. His voice gave away his vulnerability, and it was tempting to insist everything would be fine. But life threw you curveballs. Not everything went to plan no matter how carefully you laid it out. And Fisher deserved an honest answer, not a placating one.

"If something unexpected happens, then I'll be here for you," I said. "We'll figure it out together, okay? Like always."

His weight sank against me, making me aware of how rigidly he'd held himself a moment before. "You always know what to say."

"Not really," I said quietly, thinking of just how often I'd said the wrong thing to my ex-wife, and how many times I'd make mistakes with Fisher, too. "You really listen, and that makes it easy to talk to you. But I'm fumbling my way through life just as much as you are."

He smiled. "I guess we can flail about together. Maybe we'll keep each other from falling."

"I like the sound of that."

I pressed a kiss to his forehead, then extricated myself from his warm body. It was time for that shower. My sweat was drying in a film that covered my chest and stomach, cum was trickling down my inner thighs, and I was lying in the wet spot from my raging orgasm.

I'd forgotten how intense it was to come with a cock in my ass, and knowing it was Fisher turning me inside out—taking charge of my pleasure so completely despite his inexperience—made it resonate more deeply than I'd ever have expected.

With Fisher, sex was never just sex. It was exciting, sometimes nerve-racking, always joyful, and so emotional it seemed mind-boggling that I'd ever convinced myself it could be casual.

My legs trembled when I got out of the bed, and I had to brace a hand on the bed and wait for them to steady.

"Shower?" Fisher asked.

"Yeah, but you stay there. I'll bring you a washcloth when I'm done, and you can shower in the morning."

"You spoil me," he said with a tired smile.

His eyes fluttered shut, lashes dark crescents against his cheeks, soft lips parted, face going slack. He looked more relaxed than I'd seen him in a while.

Fisher had been under a lot of stress. First, I was an idiot about our relationship, then we had to deal with his dad's surprise and dismay, and then this resort mess cropped up.

Remarkably, he'd still found the strength to support me as I faced Karen for the first time in years.

I wasn't spoiling him at all; he was spoiling me.

I slipped away to shower quietly, then wet a washcloth with warm water and crept into the bedroom to scrub Fisher clean while he slept.

I kept my touch light as I swiped his inner thighs, careful not to wake him. For better or worse, the resort meeting was going to require his best energy. I was sure Fisher could win everyone over, but that didn't mean it would be easy.

I returned the washcloth to the bathroom, grabbed a towel to throw over the wet spot on my sheets, and climbed into bed with him.

Fisher snorted in his sleep, then rolled straight into my arms.

Right where he belonged.

My heart expanded, and I wasn't sure how I'd contain all the love I had for him. Maybe I wouldn't. Maybe it'd spill out, messy and imperfect.

Somehow, I didn't think Fisher would mind, as long as we cleaned up the mess together.

After all, through some miracle of luck or happenstance, he'd chosen to love messy, imperfect me.