Fake Love - For Now (Big Men of Blue Mountain 3)

I’ll never tell him that there were times that I got them wrong on purpose.

My ring spins around my finger as I twist it. It’s a nervous habit that I’ve picked up over the last few months. It’s comforting, feeling the ring that connects us. Makes me feel a bit of the calm that I have when his hands are on me. Not quite as effective, but close.

My mom got to help me plan a wedding, and even though it was smaller than I think she wanted, it was nice. Intimate. And all I really cared about was the fact that I was marrying Hudson. It was a struggle not to let him carry me directly away from the ceremony to consummate our marriage. But when we did manage to escape…I’ll never forget that night as long as I live.

I push the thoughts of our wedding night and honeymoon away, because getting distracted with that will be almost as bad as my classic overthinking and spinning.

Fucking hell, I still have a half-hour before the test starts and my mind feels like scrambled eggs.

I hear the screech of tires, and I look in my rearview mirror to see a familiar car pull into the parking lot. Hudson gets out of the car, hair still mussed with sleep and eyes like fire, and stalks towards my car. There isn’t a moment where my husband isn’t sex walking. But the determined set of his walk right now has me pressing my legs together.

This morning I got up before him, and he was still sprawled naked in our bed. I would have much rather stayed with him, but the last thing I wanted was to be late for this. Even being close to late would make the anxiety that much worse.

I unlock the door as he approaches, and he opens my door, leaning against the door with one eyebrow raised. There’s a sternness on his face that makes my heart race. “You didn’t wake me.”

“I wanted to let you sleep.”

Hudson narrows his eyes. “You shouldn’t have left before I was awake, beautiful. I had plans to help you with your test.”

I blink. “What kind of plans?” He hadn’t said anything about plans.

That sternest melts into a grin and he reaches down to take my hand. “Guess I’ll have to improvise.”

He pulls me out of the car and I barely have time to lock it before he’s pulling me toward the building and around the back of it. In one movement, he pushes me against the brick wall and takes my mouth in a powerful kiss. One that makes me moan.

Hudson and I have chemistry that’s undeniable. It’s never gone away, and I hope that it never does. “This is your fault,” he says playfully against my lips. “We could have done this in our bed. Now this will have to do.”

My breath is short, and I manage to catch enough of it to look up at him and ask. “How is this going to help?”

Hudson laughs softly in my ear. He knows that it makes me shiver when he does that and never misses an opportunity. “I know my wife well enough to know that you’re calmer when my hands are on you. When I touch you. So my plan was to make sure that you’re well fucked so your head is entirely clear for the test. That’s still my plan.”

I shudder. He’s not wrong. I’m never more focused or clearer than when I’m tangled in his arms. “Here? Now?”

“Could have been at home,” he smirks.

I wore a dress today. My thought was simply to be more comfortable. But it only works in Hudson’s favor as he draws the skirt up my legs and slips his hand between them. He barely has to touch me for me to grow wet. Because I always want him, and my body has sense memory from his hands, lips, fingers, and cock. The minute he puts his hands on me, I need him.

“You’re going to have to be quiet here,” he whispers.

“Quiet? With you?” I laugh. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

Hudson rubs a finger around my clit, drawing a soft moan from me before he reaches under my skirt with his other hand and tears my thong in two. He puts it in his pocket. “You won’t be needing that.”

“Oh my God.”

It only takes him seconds to free himself from his pants, lift me off the ground, and thrust into me. We left condoms long behind when we got married, so every time he pushes into me I feel his brutal friction. I’ve never quite gotten used to his size, and I don’t care because he’s mine. And every time he fucks me, I get to feel that perfect, complete fullness.

The other thing that’s happened since we got married is that I’ve completely lost the ability to be quiet when he fucks me. Even now as he thrusts himself deep into me, I have to bite my lip to the point of pain to keep silent. He doesn’t care. There’s ravenous lust on his face, hips working steadily as he holds me against the wall.