Variation: A Novel

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The words broke me, snapped the tethers of self-preservation, and left me anchorless. I fisted my hands in his shirt and surged upward, pressing my lips to his.

He groaned low in his throat and took my mouth with an urgency that flooded my veins and set my nerves on fire. The kiss was blatantly carnal, all twisting tongues and clashing teeth as we strained to get closer.

I tore at the buttons on his shirt, and reluctantly surrendered the kiss for the whole three seconds it took Hudson to strip off my tank top, leaving me bare from the waist up. Then his mouth was fused with mine again, and I sucked on his tongue as I worked his shirt off his shoulders. I was rewarded with another groan as fabric hit the floor.

His hand cupped my breast, and the skim of his thumb over my nipple hardened the peak instantly. A shiver rolled up my spine and I arched into his hand as he kissed me deeper, longer, centering my world with him as my only compass point.

I knew the carved lines of his torso by heart and traced them with my fingertips as my hands slid down his body, quickly finding his zipper and tugging. There were too many clothes, too many layers between us. I needed him as naked as I felt, and only all of him would do. A quick flick of my fingers on the hook closure of his dress pants, and they were unfastened. I slipped my hand between the rigid muscles of his abs and the elastic of his boxer briefs and found him hot and hard.

“Fuck, Allie.” His moan echoed off the mirrored walls as I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked from the tip all the way to his base.

My thighs clenched, heat centering between them as I swirled my thumb over his tip, and then stroked my tongue into his mouth, flicking the sensitive line behind his teeth in time with the motion of my hands. I lived for his swift intakes of breath, the clench of his hand in my hair.

I abandoned his mouth to kiss down his chest and worship at the altar of his perfect abs. My tongue dipped into the line that ran from the edge of his stomach down past his waistband, and I hooked my hands at his hips and dragged the clothing from his body in one long pull, hitting my knees in front of him.

“Love . . .” There was awe in that tone, but also a touch of warning that let me know I was playing with absolute fire.

“Off,” I demanded, and he stepped free of his pants and boxer briefs. Once I stripped his socks off, I sat back on my heels and looked up and up, marveling at the perfection of his body. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect form.”

“Al—” he started, but ended on a rumbling groan as I rose onto my knees and sucked him into my mouth.

His cock slid over my tongue, and a heady sense of power flushed my skin as his hips rocked once. Twice.

“Holy shit.” His hands fisted in my hair. “Allie. Love. You have to.”

“Hmmm?” I took him deeper and reveled at the flare of his eyes, the flex of his jaw, the knowledge that I had the complete and total ability to unravel him.

“Stop,” he managed to say.

I flicked his tip with my tongue and released him. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I know exactly what I want.” The heat in his gaze would have set a glacier on fire, and I was already kindling, ready to burn at the first touch. He slipped his hands beneath my arms and hauled me to my feet, then stripped my pajama pants and underwear right off, adding the garments to the sea of discarded clothing around us.

“Do you?” I asked, more than a little breathless.

He nodded, his gaze devouring me as he reached into a pile of his clothes. “I’ve been fantasizing about what I would do to you in this room for far longer than I care to admit.”

“Is that so?” I swallowed hard and stepped backward over my forgotten tank top, kicking it aside to clear his path. “What are you looking for?” Whatever it was, he was taking too long.

“Wallet.” He grabbed his pants. “Condom.”

“Forget it.” I retreated until my back hit the barre. “Don’t need it. I’m on birth control.” And I wanted him now. “It’s like ninety-nine percent effective.”

He retrieved a foil packet from his wallet and shook his head at me as he ripped it open. “Not risking that one percent.” He rolled it over his length.

I blinked. Right. Of course he wouldn’t. We weren’t even in a long-term relationship—

“You want kids?” he continued. “I’ll give you kids. Say the word.” The thought should have frozen me, but the conviction shining in his eyes, shouting that our futures were already intertwined, had my heart beating double time as he stalked forward, gloriously, beautifully nude. “Until then, I’m not risking everything you’ve worked for because I’m impatient.”

The ache in my chest flared bright and so sweet that I bit my lower lip to keep the words from spilling out.

“God, the things I have pictured doing to you,” he murmured, his gaze raking over me with palpable hunger. He consumed my mouth with a soul-rending kiss, then dropped to his knees at my feet, hooked an arm around my left leg, and lifted it to settle on his shoulder.

My breath hitched as he leaned in and kissed the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “I’d watch you for hours, perfectly composed, completely disciplined, and wondered what you would do if I—” He dragged his tongue from my entrance to my clit.

I cried out, and my back bowed as I caught fire. My hands reached for his head, but he shook it.

“Hands on the barre, Allie,” he ordered.

I immediately did as ordered.

“Perfect,” he praised, then worked me over with his mouth, pleasure coiling within me with every scrape and swirl of his tongue. I gripped the barre as my hips rolled on their own accord, chasing the high I knew only he could give me.

He kept one arm locked around my thigh, holding me in place, and guided my hips with the other, using it to haul me into the rapturous assault, then hold me at bay when I came close to the edge, until my muscles shook and my desperation spiraled into needy pants and whispered pleas.

“This is exactly what I pictured,” he said, then swirled his tongue around me. “You trembling, gasping, flushed with need.”

“Hudson, please,” I begged.

He slid two fingers inside me and stroked. “But the sound of you moaning my name? That’s beyond anything I ever could have imagined, Allie. And now it lives in my dreams.” He used his hand and tongue to drive me straight over the cliff.

I broke apart, shattered by waves of mind-numbing bliss, and would have fallen if Hudson hadn’t held me upright, wringing every last shudder from me and somehow igniting a whole new fire as he finally, slowly stood.

My chest heaved and my leg rose with him. He dipped his shoulder, and my thigh slid off only to be caught at his elbow, then lowered to the floor.

“Turn around.”

I flipped to face the barre, then took two steps back, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

“Fucking flawless,” he said, running his fingers down my spine before taking my ass in his hands.

I leaned forward in blatant invitation and spread my feet, keeping my eyes locked with his. “Hudson,” I whispered. “I need you.”

“Feeling is more than mutual.” He slipped his fingers between my thighs, and I shuddered at the fresh wave of urgency that washed through me and held fast, demanding appeasement. Thankfully, he didn’t make me wait this time. He bent his knees, and I felt the head of his cock nudge my entrance, then pause.

“Yes.” I nodded my head and pushed back, using the barre for leverage and earning the first inch of his intrusion.

“You are so fucking mine.” He clasped my hips and drove into me.

I called out his name, and my eyes slid shut at the sublime pleasure. He hit so deep, so perfectly.

“Eyes,” he demanded. “Watch us.”

The words alone had me melting, but the way he withdrew only to slam home again turned me molten. He set a rhythm that had me gasping, keening for the next thrust, the next dose of the bliss I was shamelessly addicted to.

“Every time. You’re. In a. Studio.” He punctuated the words with the snap of his hips. “I want. You to. Remember. Exactly. How this feels.” His face flushed, and sweat beaded on our skin, and the only time he looked away was to stare down at where we were joined. “What. We do. To each other.”

Fuck, I was doomed to never look at a mirror the same way again.

When his gaze found mine again, he looked starved.

“I need your mouth.” He withdrew completely, and I whimpered in protest at the loss, but he gripped my waist, and the barre flew from my hands as the world spun and Hudson filled my vision.

His mouth consumed mine as he lifted me into his arms, and I wound my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist. My ass hit the barre, and then he was inside me again, stroking deep, feeding the wild desperation that had me moaning into his mouth.

Every stroke was better than the last. Every thrust sent me higher, wound me tighter.

“Fucking barre,” he groaned against my mouth, and then we were moving. My back hit the section of mirror where the barre ended, and then he drove so deep I saw stars, and our kiss muffled our shouts.

“More,” I demanded, using the mirror to arch into every thrust, and he braced one hand beside my head and gripped my hip with the other, delivering everything I needed.

God, this was life. This was the meaning of breath, and the purpose of existence. Just Hudson.

Tension built, coiling so tightly that I lost the ability to rock back into him as my muscles locked, then started trembling. And still he took me, kissed me, sent me up in flames, and became the very air I drew on.

“Hudson,” I cried, riding a painful edge.

“I’ve got you, love.” His hand slipped between us, and the next touch sent me careening into pure light.

I fractured into a thousand tiny pieces, but somehow Hudson held me together. My hips arched again and again as the orgasm pulsed through me, crashing like endless waves on a beach. I felt him tense, and hung on as he found his own release, spearing my fingers into his hair and cradling his head.

We came down together, gasping for breath, staring into each other’s eyes like the beginning and end of everything in the universe was held between us. My heart rate descended slowly, and I fought the very real logic that tugged at the corners of my mind, knowing there were things that needed to be said, decisions that had to be made. Knowing I didn’t want to give him up.

“Allie.” Hudson pushed my hair back from my face. “We should—”

I cut him off. “Take me to bed. Before anyone gets home. Just take me to bed.”

Anything and everything could wait until tomorrow.

I wanted tonight with him.

He carried me upstairs, and gave me exactly what I asked for, looking at me like we had forever and making love to me like we lived on borrowed time.

I was barely conscious when he slipped out of bed, and when I cracked an eye open, I saw pink through the window. “What time is it?” I burrowed deeper into my pillow and smiled at Hudson’s scent.

“Six,” he answered, already dressed in one of the uniforms from my closet. He sat on the edge of my bed and stroked his hand across my hair. “I’ll take Sadie out so you can sleep. Beachman is picking me up for a meeting, and Gavin will be by in about an hour to get his car. I’ll only be gone a few hours.”

“You should stay.” I caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“Trust me, I would if I could, and when I get back, we have to talk.” His brow knit. “About the bags you have packed, and us, and . . . things I need to tell you. We just have to talk.”

“Okay,” I agreed begrudgingly. “But it’s hard to have a serious conversation when we don’t even know where you’ll be living.”

“Yeah.” A corner of his mouth rose, and he stole a quick, soft kiss. “Hopefully I’ll hear today.”

“I know you put Cape Cod first,” I said, rolling to my back. “But I really hope you get Sitka. You deserve to catch that dream, Hudson.”

“Dreams can change.” He smiled as he stood, then backed away toward the door. “I meant to tell you sooner, but I changed my first choice right before I sent the list in.”

“To Alaska?” I propped myself up on my elbows as he opened the bedroom door.

“No.” The dimple in his cheek popped. “New York.”

He was gone before I could even process the words, what the location meant. My stomach fell. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t do something that impulsive, that . . . reckless.

Why didn’t he choose Sitka? Cape Cod I understood, but New York? We’d never even discussed the possibility.

We can be together. I immediately stuck a pin in that particular childish bubble of joyous thought and popped it. New York would take everything I loved about us and muddle it, wreck it. My life there would ruin Hudson. Stealing scant hours with me for a month was one thing, but we couldn’t build a life on it. Oh God. He’d just given up a chance at his dream duty station to live out what would end in a nightmare with me, and now he’d have to wait another three years before he could make another request.

I got up, showered, and dressed as my mind spun. When the town’s lone taxi service pulled into the driveway an hour later, I was already sitting on the front porch steps with Sadie curled at my side.

Gavin would set this right. He wouldn’t let Hudson throw himself away on . . . me.

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked as soon as he stepped out of the taxi. “You look like something’s wrong. Is Hudson okay? Did something happen? He just texted me an hour ago—”

“Hudson’s fine,” I assured him as the taxi pulled away. “At least until I get my hands on him. Did you know he changed his duty-station preference to New York?”

Gavin’s posture sagged in relief. “No, but that doesn’t surprise me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit, you scared me. I thought something was wrong, from the look on your face.”

“Something is wrong!” I stood.

“Because he wants to be near you?” His arms dropped to his sides. “Are you seriously pissed that he’s willing to uproot his whole life, and piss off our sister—which I fully support—in order to be with you?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m pissed because he didn’t choose Sitka! That’s been his dream since I met him, to get as far away from this town as possible.” My shoulders drooped and I fought the growing, bittersweet ache in my chest I couldn’t name for the sake of my sanity. “He should get to have his dream, too, Gavin. And I get putting it on hold to come back and help Caroline. He’s an incredible brother. But putting it on hold for me? You have to talk him out of it.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.” Gavin rocked back on his heels and stared at me like I’d grown a set of horns. “Damn, Allie, you really don’t get it, do you?”

“That he’s selfless? Yeah, choosing a career where he literally risks his life for other people clued me in.” I folded my arms.

“No, that you’re his dream. He’s in love with you,” Gavin countered.

My breath abandoned me in a rush. “He’s not.” I smothered the sudden rush of warmth behind my ribs.

“He is.” Gavin nodded, throwing out his hands. “Of course he wants to be stationed where you are. Would it really be that bad, being in a real relationship with my brother? Or were you just playing around with him for the summer?”

“I would never do that.” I drew back at the insult. Hudson and I had an agreement. We both knew what this was.

“Are you sure you’re not looking to ditch him now that the Classic is over? Rousseau girls specialize in yanking out an Ellis boy’s heart and throwing it back when September rolls around.” His gaze narrowed.

I jabbed my finger his direction. “That was uncalled for.”

He sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Would it really be so bad if he got New York? Forget your fear and your need to keep everyone but Sadie at arm’s length. Would it be the end of the world if you went home to Hudson every day?”

I breathed through that thought, trying to push past the logic of what my life would do to him, and focusing on that growing pressure in my chest. “No.” I shook my head. “It would be pretty great.” That was a selfish answer. “But it would be too hard on him.”

“Let him decide what’s hard.” Gavin’s fists opened and closed, jingling the keys. “Look, I was there. I saw what losing you did to him the first time, so I can’t blame him for grabbing hold with both hands and holding on. For fuck’s sake, just let him hold on, Allie. He’s strong enough for the both of you.”

My brow scrunched. “What do you mean, you were there? I don’t remember you being at the Classic that year.”

“No.” He shook his head and looked at me like I’d grown two. “Who the hell do you think picked him up at the hospital that day? Me.” He tapped his chest with his hand. “I’m the one he called. I’m the one who had to coax the words out of him when he walked out of the emergency department covered in your blood. I’m the one who had to make up some bullshit story to our parents about why he wouldn’t speak for the next four days before he left for basic. So excuse me if I just want him to finally be happy!”

I stared at Gavin and tried to breathe, tried to make any sense of his words. “My blood?”

Color drained from his face, and he retreated a step. “Shit,” he muttered, his eyes sliding shut.

“What the hell do you mean, my blood?” My voice rose and I fought the nauseating sensation of gravity shifting.

“Just . . .” He retreated down the steps, keeping his eyes on me like I was a mountain cat he knew better than to turn his back on. “He thinks you won’t forgive him, and you have to, Allie. Just let him hold on this time, and not just for him. You need each other. You two are the shit poets write about.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Gavin!” I shouted as he reached the car.

He pulled out of the driveway and left me standing on the porch, second-guessing everything I thought I knew about the last ten years.