Chapter 36

36

Charlie

Charlie’s Words To Live By:

If you ever have the chance to fuck Hudson Wilde, don’t pass it up. Wait, scratch that. Stay the hell away from him. He’s terrible in bed.

He was so damned beautiful when he let go. Those bedroom eyes watched me with reverence bordering on awe. After bringing him off the first time, he was anxious to return the favor.

“No. Stop,” I told him. “Lie still.”

“But you—”

“I’m not coming until I’m deep inside you, Hudson. Please stop arguing with me.”

His mouth rounded into an O, and his eyebrows lifted into his hairline. “You’re still going to fuck me?”

“Do you have an objection to that?”

“Oh hell no. But I want to do something that feels good to you too,” he said in earnest.

I broke down laughing, and he looked wounded. When I finally caught my breath, I leaned up to kiss him softly. “Dear one, I promise your body wrapped around my cock will feel fairly good to me.”

He seemed to realize what he’d said and blushed accordingly. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

I settled on his shoulder and ran a hand along his side. “Yes, I do. And I will let you do all sorts of things to me another time. But tonight I’d like you to stay relaxed and happy because that will also feel good to me. For now, just recover.”

We lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, our legs intertwined in the jumble of the sheets and our hands smoothing along each other’s skin like Roombas left to roam on their own forever. I felt the warmth of Hudson’s breath in my hair and had almost dozed off when he spoke up.

“How was work today? Did Max finalize the menu so we can finally have it printed?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said with a grumble. The chef they’d hired wasn’t exactly my favorite person in the world.

“What’d he do?” Hudson asked.

“If you must know, he added a patty melt to the menu as well as something called fried cheese.” I said that last bit with disdain.

Hudson snorted. “Those are fairly popular bar-and-grill menu items around here.”

“Mm,” I sniffed.

Hudson flipped me onto my back and loomed above me with a grin. “Is the American cuisine offending your Irish sensibilities?”

“Is it an American pub or an Irish one, hm?”

“Did he take any of the Murray recipes off?”

I ran my fingers through the longer hair on top of his head that was usually styled but was currently flopping over every which way. “Yes. He removed the boxty. Needless to say, we had words.”

“Did he say why? I like your dad’s boxty.”

The fact Hudson knew that it was my dad’s recipe hit me right in the gut. I cleared my throat. “Said we already had too many potatoes on the menu. As if there’s such a thing as too many potatoes coming out of an Irish kitchen.”

“Did he leave on the bangers and mash, the fish and chips, the colcannon?” he asked, naming only a fraction of the dishes with potatoes in them. “I’m just teasing. I’ll talk to him.” His smile was still wide and indulgent. He wanted me to be best pleased with the way the pub was run.

“Thank you,” I said. “Man’s a bloody nuisance, you ask me. Too bad for everyone you can’t have my auld man back there.”

Before he met the Brazilian and went half-mad, my father was the best chef around. Took great pleasure in putting out the family recipes the best he could. The place wouldn’t be half the legacy it was without his touch on the offerings.

“Do you miss him?” Hudson asked, sliding over next to me and running a hand along my collarbone. The light touch brought up goose bumps along my skin.

“I miss the man I thought he was.”

“What do you mean?”

I sighed. “When he decided to leave, I was so disappointed in him. I always thought our family’s history meant everything to him. That he’d stay and protect it at all cost. He’d raised me to be the same. That’s why I didn’t stay away after college. So when he up and left after meeting Daniela, I was gutted.”

“You said you didn’t care for her. His new wife, I mean.”

I shook my head. “She’s just too young to know jack all about the world and about life. Came to the pub with her parents for fuck’s sake. She’s younger than Cait.”

“Why didn’t she move to Ireland?”

“No sun. No beach. None of her family nearby. I think the idea of having a young one and living in Rio appealed to my Dad after years of working hard, yeah? Can’t rightly blame the man. I miss him though.”

“When was the last time—”

I cut him off. “Can we change the subject? I had plans for you tonight, and mention of my dad is throwing a spanner in the works.”

Hudson leaned in and kissed me lightly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to push. Just know you can talk to me about it if you want. My parents moved to Singapore several years ago, remember? So it’s something we have in common.”

I kissed him some more, letting myself enjoy the feel of his mouth on mine and his tongue playing against my own. It didn’t take long for my cock to decide it was time for some more fun with Hudson’s willing body.

“I want to be inside you,” I said into his mouth. “Tell me how you want it, gorgeous man. What’s your fantasy?”

A groan pushed out of him, and his hard length jumped against my leg.

“Tell me,” I repeated softly. “You want me to push into you slow and sweet, or do you want me to hold you down and fuck you?”

His jumping cock answered my question without him having to say the words. He wanted to be held down.

“However you want,” he said hesitantly.

“Hands and knees, Hudson.”

I climbed off the bed to find lube and condoms. Something about Hudson’s shyness told me he’d appreciate a moment to get his head in the right place without me staring at him. But I had no doubt he wanted this. So many signals he’d sent me told me he wanted to be on the receiving end, and he wasn’t the only one who wanted things that way between us. Whenever I took myself in hand with the thought of coming deep inside him, I almost shot my load on the very first stroke.

After gathering what I needed, I turned back to the bed. Hudson’s round, muscular arse was raised in the air, and his face was buried in the pillow. The tops of his ears were so red, I thought he must be dying of mortification.

I crawled onto the bed next to him and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“I’ve never been with anyone who turned me on as much as you do. I’ve never seen a body I wanted to own as much as yours. When I think about coming together with you like this, it makes me feel like I can’t possibly be so lucky. Do you have any idea how much your trust means to me?”

He turned his head toward me and took my mouth in his.

“How did you know I needed to hear that?” he whispered.

“Because I see you. And I hear you, sweet man. You know I would be happy simply lying here in your arms, yeah? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I know. Now shut the hell up and bugger me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his word choice. After kissing him one last time, I moved around behind him and kissed his big muscular arse cheek before nipping it to leave a mark.

Charlie Murray was here.

I returned to the site of our earlier pleasure and rimmed him again with just as much enthusiasm. I snuck lube onto my fingers and stretched him while reaching around with my other hand to tug at his cock. By the time he finally relaxed around my fingers again, an assortment of lovely noises was coming out of him.

Please, Charlie, more.

“Shh,” I murmured. “Let me take care of you.”

Please, Charlie, now.

He was so much taller than I was, I had to stand behind him and crouch down to maintain control. I held on to his hip with one hand while pushing the blunt head of my cock against his hole with the other.

His body tensed for the briefest moment before remembering to relax. I murmured encouragement and took it slowly, allowing his body to adjust to the invasion. As soon as I felt the tight clench of his muscles, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.

Why hadn’t I let him make me come before now? It would have given me half a chance at lasting longer than two or three strokes.

I pulled out enough to squeeze the base of my cock and take a deep breath.

Think of auld Mrs. MacMahon who wore the same dress to Sunday mass every week. Think of Mr. Foley and his wretched poodle who wanted to eat Mama as a snack. Think of—

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I gasped as Hudson pushed back onto my cock, swallowing it inside his channel in one slick stroke.

“Did you fall asleep back there?” Hudson growled. “I thought you were fucking me?”

Oh, so it’s like that, is it?

I pulled back and shoved in, making him cry out. It most definitely did not sound like a cry of pain. I pressed a hand around the back of his neck to keep him still.

“Fuck,” I gritted out, repeating the motion. He felt so damned good, I thought I might cry.

“Yes, please,” he added through sucking breaths. His fists were balled in the sheets, and his thighs trembled. I reached around to feel his hard cock and confirm he was doing just fine.

With one hand on his neck and one on the bed beside him, I went for it. I leaned into his back and pistoned myself in and out of his channel. The squeeze of his muscles made me lose all ability to think.

“Stroke off,” I managed to say between grunts. I felt him shift his weight to free a hand for his cock.

After that it was straight-up animal fucking. I pushed his face into the mattress and thrust into him, rocking my hips in and out without fully pounding him. It was his first time, and somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered that. But it was a close thing.

“Gonna come,” I choked. My balls pulled in and let loose in a crash of cymbals inside my brain. The orgasm traveled up and down my spine to my balls and arse, clenching everything in pleasurable pulses made even better by the noises and movements of the man beneath me.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” he groaned.

Suddenly his body’s tight squeeze announced his own release, and he whimpered and shook after crying out my name.

I was brain-dead and sated, tingling and happy.

Confused and goddamned half in love.

I was in trouble.