You Make Me Weak (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 1)

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispered, positioning himself between her legs, loving how her hips rose to meet him. Her hands crept up to his shoulders and she pulled him down to her. Her mouth was there, right near his ear.

“Now, Huds.”

He sank into her fully, groaning loudly at the sensation of wet, hot skin on skin. Sweat broke out on his forehead, hell, it was a sheen that covered his entire body. If he had his way, he’d screw as fast and as hard as he could, because that was what his body was demanding. The need was that urgent.

Her hands were on his ass, and he clenched his jaw tight, trying to slow things down. Trying to build up something good for her. But his lady was having none of that. She slapped at him and gripped his hips with her legs.

“I don’t want to play nice, Hudson.” Her voice was throaty, and it struck a chord that set off all kinds of hot shit inside him.

“Good to know,” he growled. “We’ll go slow next time.”

He stared down at a face that had haunted him, forever it seemed, and felt something inside him give. He was close, so damn close to the edge. He picked up the pace, his body giving in to the animalistic needs that took over. He loved the way she felt, so hot and tight. Loved the way her hair spilled across the bed. The way her lips parted. The noises she made.

He couldn’t remember the last time sex had been this good. He rode them both to orgasm, and as he collapsed on the bed and pulled her close, Hudson kissed the top of her head. He listened to her breathing, to the sound of her fast-beating heart. Everything about her was the same, yet different.

His chest swelled and his throat tightened with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. But the one thought that lingered in his mind long after Rebecca fell asleep was that being with her felt like coming home.

Hudson woke up because an alarm clock erupted right beside his head. Literally beside his head. He rolled over with a groan that quickly escalated into a bunch of expletives that would make a nun blush. They didn’t stop until he located the damn clock, wedged between his right shoulder blade and the sheets. What the hell?

He sat up and turned it off, bleary eyes slowly allowing him to focus.

White sheets and white walls. Blue comforter and curtains. White furniture. Dark wood floors. He slipped from the bed and turned in a full circle. A black-and-white framed photo caught his attention. Rebecca and Liam.

He glanced back at the bed. At the tangled sheets and his clothes strewn over the floor. One boot sat on the table beside the bed. Who the hell knew where the other one was. Everything came back.

Every. Hot. Detail.

He let his mind wander as he thought back to the night before and, with a slow smile, glanced around the room. Where was Rebecca? The house was silent, and he was naked. Quickly, he found his clothes and got dressed, his mood light. He glanced around the room once more and was just about to leave when he noticed a piece of paper that had f

allen off the bed. Most likely when he’d been wrangling with the alarm clock.

He picked it up, immediately recognized the handwriting, and scanned the note. It didn’t take long for his good mood to disappear as he read Rebecca’s words. There weren’t very many of them.

I need you gone by the time I get home at noon.

That was it. All she wrote.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hudson shoved the piece of paper into the front pocket of his jeans and headed out of the bedroom. He was angry. Hell, he was more than angry. He was pissed off and insulted and there was a healthy dose of bewilderment thrown in. What the hell?

Hudson paused at the top of the stairs. The house was small, with only two bedrooms and a bath on the upper level. He glanced at his watch, curiosity getting the better of him, and took some time to peek into Liam’s room. The kid was a die-hard Red Wings and Tigers fan, with signed jerseys on the wall opposite his bed. A typical boy’s room, the bed wasn’t made, his desk had a bit of clutter, and a lone sock peeked out from under the bed.

At the bottom of the stairs, Hudson sidestepped the sheets of drywall and paint cans he’d tripped over the night before. The walls in the living room were ripped down to the studs, and the carpet had been pulled out, exposing the original hardwood floors. The planks were wide dark oak and in need of some TLC. But, judging from the equipment in the corner, they were to be refinished. The hallway was about the same, empty of anything save the materials needed to bring it back to life.

He opened a door near the alcove by the stairs. It was a bathroom, though at the moment, the toilet was in a box, and so was the shower. There were samples of tiles, glass blocks, and paint chips.

The kitchen, however? He glanced around, taking in the new stainless-steel appliances, dark granite counters, gray slate floors, and refinished white cupboards. Red was the accent color of choice, and a trio of owls—the color of a fire engine—watched him from the countertop. A simple vase of red daisies sat in the center of the small table, and black-and-white photos sporting red frames were on the wall above it.

She still had a thing for owls.

The space wasn’t large, but the design gave it optimum room. An island provided extra seating, and a large window brought in the outdoors—the river and the dam. The backyard was a good size, though the shed in the far corner looked like it needed some improvements, and the deck should be shored up.

He walked over to the table, his gaze moving over pictures of Liam, Rebecca, and a few of her brother, Mackenzie, who seemed to have landed a beautiful wife and a new baby. Huh. Never thought Mac would turn into a family man.

He hadn’t noticed any of this stuff the night before, but then he’d been getting naked with Rebecca and the damn décor wasn’t at the top of his list of things that mattered.

Hudson stood in the middle of the kitchen for a good long while, unsure how to proceed. He didn’t give a damn that Rebecca had blown him off. There were things that needed to be discussed and addressed. Things he needed to say.

He might have stuck around for it too, if not for the timely alarm clock sounding once again. It echoed shrilly through the empty house, and he winced. It was as if Rebecca knew he needed a kick in the ass to get him out the door.