Page 53 of Truth or Dare

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Are you kidding? There was no way I could?—”

I smirked, leaning close. “I didn’t want to just fuck you in the art studio, Presley. I wanted to spread you out on that table, taste you until you screamed my name.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “Hudson!”

“Five years, Pres. I’ve waited five years to have you, to love you, to make you mine in every way possible.”

Her green eyes darkened, a glimmer of something more than desire there. “You’re wrong about one thing.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what’s that?”

She leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. “The love part. It never went away. You’ve always loved me—just like I’ve loved you.”

For a moment, her words left me speechless. I finally replied, my voice almost a whisper, “I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

Presley brushed her fingers over my face, her gaze searching. “What does that mean?”

“It’s from a poem by Yeats,” I said, barely able to look away from her. “About loving someone so much it hurts.”

She laid her head on my shoulder, her voice gentle. “Your love isn’t unrequited, Hudson.”

I paused, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. “But it was,” I whispered.

“Not anymore,” she replied, her voice firm.

She didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, her hands slipped to the waistband of my jeans, unzipping them with a slow, teasing touch. I barely managed a groan as she slid her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around me. Her tongue flicked over my skin, tasting me, and I shuddered, overwhelmed by the heat pooling low in my belly.

“Pres,” I breathed, barely able to contain myself.

“Shh,” she whispered, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Let me do this.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself drown in the feel of her warm mouth on me. She took me slowly, tracing her tongue over every inch, her hand gripping my base and applying just enough pressure. I tangled my fingers in her hair, holding it back so I could watch her.

She didn’t stop, even as I whispered, “Presley, stop.” My voice was shaky, my breath coming faster. “I’m close.”

She only looked up at me, defiance in her gaze. I held on as long as I could, but it was no use—I lost myself, shuddering as I spilled into her, my body tense and completely undone.

As the world slowly came back into focus, she lifted her head, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You taste good.”

I let out a rough laugh. “Damn, you’ve got me drained.”

A playful pout crossed her face. “Does that mean you can’t…?”

“Oh, I’ll recover,” I promised, pulling her down beside me. I worked open the buttons of my shirt, and she straddled me, resting her head on my chest, her fingers trailing up and down my skin.

“I love you, Hudson,” she whispered, her voice quiet but sure.

I ran my fingers along her spine, feeling her shiver against me. “Does it feel strange to say that?”

She tilted her face up, her green eyes meeting mine with a softness I’d never seen before. “No. I’ve loved you since before I even realized it, and then you were gone.”

I gently cupped her face, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I never wanted to leave, Pres. I would have stayed if I could.”

She snuggled closer, her breath warm against my neck as I held her close, feeling a fierce protectiveness rise in me. She was here, and that was all that mattered.

I woketo the soft glow of the clock, the numbers reading close to 6 p.m., and somewhere in the quiet room, Presley’s phone buzzed insistently. She was still nestled against me, her body warm beneath the covers.

“Pres, your phone,” I murmured, giving her a gentle nudge.

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