Page 12 of Game On
“God,” she whispers. “I’m so close.”
“Before you come, say it one last time,” I grunt out. “Say my name.”
“Hudson,” she cries, clenching around me, squeezing my cock with such force that I can’t hold back any longer.
“Fuck,” I hiss out as I feel myself spill inside the condom. “Fuck, Ella—”
Her walls pulse, fully spending me, and all thought flies out the damn window. The only thing that matters is right here, right now: Ella Davies beneath me, moaning my name like it’s a goddamn prayer.
CHAPTER FOUR
Hudson
I turn over on my bed, slapping an arm across the mattress only to come into contact with a soft mound of a person. Ella.
The memories of last night flood back—her perfect lips, those hazel eyes, some of the best damn sex of my life. A contented moan escapes me as I curve a hand around her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine.
But then, the thin sliver of hallway light seeping under the door catches my eye, jolting me from the remnants of last night’s haze. Panic sets in, a familiar unease that’s been my shadow for the last ten years.
I gently extract myself from the bed, careful not to wake Ella, and slip into the hall. Sourdough immediately pads up beside me. The silence of the house is unnerving as I move from room to room, double-checking each light switch, every potential hazard.
Levi’s door is shut, but when I knock, there’s no response. Pushing it open reveals an empty room, the bed made, and no sign of my roommate.
I push into his en suite bathroom, flicking on the lightdespite the hour, scanning for any forgotten candles or appliances left on. Nothing. The relief is immediate, but it’s shadowed by a wave of self-reproach.
I was so caught up with Ella, so lost in her, that I’d neglected my nightly ritual. One born from loss and a desperate need to control what little I could.
Sinking onto the closed toilet lid, I bury my head in my hands, allowing myself a moment to just breathe. To calm the racing of my heart and the irrational fear that, at any moment, everything could go up in flames.
Once the panic recedes, I stand and head back to my bedroom. The thought of rejoining Ella, of exploring more of what we’d started last night, sends a thrill of anticipation through me.
But as I push open the door, the scene that greets me isn’t what I expected. Ella is sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Though she’s just as sexy as she was last night, there’s a tension in her posture now. A guardedness that wasn’t there before.
She looks up as I enter, and even when Sourdough jumps onto the bed to greet her, her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Hey,” I say, “everything okay?”
She laughs, gesturing to the rumpled bed. “Didn’t you say you don’t usually do this?”
“Do …?”
“One-night stands.”
I cock a brow. “No, I didn’t say that.”
She huffs. “I distinctly recall—”
“What I meant was … I don’t usually invite girls home after knowing them for all of five seconds. But I’m not sure that warrants explanation.”
“Right, because you’re Hudson Fox,” she deadpans.
“Is there a reason you’re using my full name?”
In response, she simply tosses me her phone. My brow crinkles in confusion as I catch it, the name Gabi (Roomie <3) appearing at the top of a text chat. I scroll up, stopping when I find that the last Sent messages are pictures of my license plate and ID. They’re followed by an onslaught of replies from her friend.
