The hum of the engines seemed to grow louder as Hudson’s thrusts grew sharper and more desperate. “We’ll never be over,” he growled, his ragged breath warm against her skin. “Never.” One hand slipped between their bodies to where they were joined, stroking her in that knowing way that never failed to make her come.
Allie’s fingers raked into his hair, clutching him tight as a white-hot rush consumed her. The plane dipped into an air pocket and the momentary sense of weightlessness only added to the sensation that she was falling, spiraling over the edge into a mind shattering release. Hudson drove high and hard one last time, then stilled, his body shuddering as he came inside her.
Once the tremors subsided, Hudson lowered her carefully back to her feet. His arm banded around her waist and his hand slipped under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The haunted look she saw reflected in his eyes broke her heart. It was too much. The emotion of the past two days came crashing down around her and she choked on a strangled sob.
“What happened? What did he threaten you with?”
“I can’t.”
“Don’t start that again.”
She shook her head. “I mean not here. When we get home.” There was no sense in fighting the inevitable. She was crazy to think she could push him away, even if it was for his own protection. Their bond was too strong.
Hudson gave a tight nod. “Fine. But I want you to tell me everything.” His expression was somber, but his touch was gentle as he brushed the pad of his thumb over her swollen lips. “Whatever it is, I can protect you.”
She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “No, you don’t understand. I’m the one who’s protecting you.”
Chapter Six
The plane pivoted, sending a shaft of artificial light through the window. The bright beam traveled around the first class cabin and settled on their entwined hands as the aircraft came to a stop at the gate. After fucking out some steam, they’d hardly spoken a word for the duration of the nine-hour flight.
That was not how Hudson had expected things to go down in that matchbox of a bathroom. He’d anticipated having one hell of a fight on his hands, same as the last time Allie had tried to walk out of his life. He thought she’d run when he pushed her, but instead she took everything he gave and wanted more. A certified come-to-her-senses moment that ended with her tight around his cock.
Hudson watched Allie look out the window as if she’d just noticed they had landed. Call it a knee-jerk reaction, but he half expected her to pull away as she comprehended that they were now back in Chicago. He waited to feel that emptiness, but her hand remained firmly in his grasp.
As if in a coordinated sequence, overhead bins popped open, carry-on handles jacked up, and the single-lane shuffle began. Using his free hand, Hudson flipped the silver buckle on the seat belt and Allie did the same¸ still holding onto him. In fact, as he stood up she clutched his hand tighter in a squeeze that shot straight to his heart. Not a fucking chance in hell he was letting her go. Ever. He needed the feel of Allie’s slender hand in his, the weight of it, and the connection of their touching palms.
With a solid grip he led her off the plane, across the standard-issue industrial blue carpet, and up the slow incline of the gateway. Passengers funneled through the door, flanking alongside them and then dispersing in various directions. Hudson and Allie bypassed baggage claim and headed straight to the sidewalk where Max waited by the black-on-black limo. He opened the door as they approached, but Allie stopped short at the curb.
“Harper?” she asked.
“A town car dropped Miss Hayes at her apartment about thirty minutes ago, Miss Sinclair.” He cleared his throat. “She would like you to call her at your earliest convenience.”
Hudson had to hand it to Max for his polite translation. Undoubtedly the message wasn’t quite so eloquently worded, but rather along the lines of something out of a sailor’s mouth. Harper had been almost as pissed at Allie as he’d been for what she put them through in Paris. Those frantic hours had thrown them into an unlikely alliance that dare he say might actually have been the start of an even more unlikely friendship. But at the moment, the redhead wasn’t his concern. The blonde slipping into the back of his limo was the only thing on Hudson’s mind.
He ducked in beside her as soon as Max shut the door. “All right, we’re alone. Tell me what’s going on.”
In the split second Allie’s mouth opened, her phone rang, cutting a path through the tension. Hudson glanced down at the screen to see a private caller interrupting his pending Q&A. “Answer it,” he said.
Allie’s hand shook with a subtle tremor as she accepted the call. She’d barely said hello when her eyes flared in a wild panic. “What? I know . . . You’re spying on me?”
Hudson’s jaw clenched. It was taking every shred of control he had left to keep from ripping the phone from her hand and delivering a death threat to whoever was on the other end of that line.
The blood drained from Allie’s face and a cool sweat misted her brow. “You don’t have to keep reminding me . . . I’m taking care of it.” She was quiet for long beats, the steady hum of the engine providing white noise to the otherwise silent interior of the car. As the stretch accelerated, then slowed, then redoubled with the rest of the late-night traffic, Allie finally ended the call.
Hudson angled his body toward her. “Level with me. Who’s spying on you? What are you trying to protect me from?”
“Julian.” Allie’s voice came out as light as a breath, and the trembling in her hands was so bad she nearly dropped the phone.
Goddamn it.
Hudson wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. When he did, her body went lax against him. “Talk to me, Allie.” His voice was a rough plea. “I can’t help you if you keep shutting me out.”
“I’m so sorry I lied to you. It was killing me. I thought I could bring him his stupid ring and the whole thing would be over in a couple hours.”
“Why on earth would you agree to meet with him? The last time you were in the same room with him . . .”
Hudson had bounded up the stairs two at a time, and when he’d kicked the door open the scene was instantly ingrained in his mind: Allie bent over the couch, her legs shaking and her fingers clawing at the cushions; Julian looming over her, one hand holding her down, the other working his fly. And fuck him, so much blood—from her lip, her head—and her eye beginning to blacken. He’d flung that French cocksucker across the room like a Frisbee. The memory had his fingers flexing against the heavy fabric covering Allie’s arms. He wanted to hit something, wanted to go round-for-round with Julian until he was tapping out, pleading for his life. Even if it was until his own goddamn eyes were swollen shut, his ribs ached, and his head felt like the size of a melon.
“I know. But he was threatening to hurt you.” Allie sat up and met his gaze with tear-filled eyes. “And Nick.”
Hudson brushed the hair away from her face. “I can take care of myself, Allie. So can Nick.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a reassuring grin. “For the most part.”
“He has a video, Hudson, some sort of security footage from a bar.” A tear trickled down her cheek.
Shit. This situation was taking him off the rails and into hard-core fuck-me territory. The POS barkeep had assured him there weren’t any cameras and he’d been well compensated to keep his mouth shut. Fucking hell . . . a headache slammed into his skull.