Page 22

Chapter 22

Giselle

I ’m like a bottle of expensive champagne that’s been shaken, cork exploding and bubbles frothing excitedly all over the place as I get dressed for Hudson and I’s first official date, only a few days after he proposed the idea.

I get ready in my bathroom – the most luxurious room in my small apartment, and the main reason I pay so much rent, that, and just living in London means paying extortionate prices – balancing a small glass of wine on the porcelain side of the bathtub, while I plug the tub and turn the hot water dial on.

Throwing in two handfuls of muscle relaxant salts for good measure, I strip off and step one foot and then the other into the bath, stretching out my body until I’m fully submerged.

With wet hands, I make a grab for my wine glass, sipping slowly so as to not make myself feel sick.

I stay in the tub until the water is lukewarm, bordering on cold, and the skin on my fingers is wrinkled and pruned like a swimmer whose been underwater too long.

Pressing my heel into the plug, I drain the water, and wrap a towel around myself. Once slathered from head to toe in my favourite scented body lotion, I pad back into my bedroom, pulling out a matching black lace underwear set. I hardly doubt tonight will be the night Hudson and I sleep together, but I’m not going to be the one to stop him if he wants to get a little glimpse of what’s hiding beneath my clothes.

I shimmy my way into a pair of black leather trousers that make my arse look fucking fantastic if I do say so myself and a dark blue, racer back, crop top.

Leaving my hair pin straight and cascading down my back, I dust a smoky eye over my lids, apply more bronzer than blush and a final swipe of red gloss across my lips.

I’m slipping my feet into a pair of heels when I hear the distinctive sound of the buzzer ring through my apartment.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” I singsong into speaker.

“No rush, Gee,” Hudson answers, his voice only serving to make my heart beat faster.

Locking the door behind myself, I throw the key into the depths of my handbag and hightail it down the stairs.

With his hands resting down by his sides, and not shoved nervously into his pockets, Hudson looks every inch of the confident man I’ve come to know him to be.

I take a step forward as he takes a step towards me, closing the distance between us until he can leisurely press his lips against mine.

“Mh,” he hums. “You smell good.”

Reaching upwards, I brush the pad of my thumb over his plush lips, wiping away the slight sheen of gloss I’ve left behind. “So do you. You look very handsome.”

Dressed in a pair of fitted black slacks and a matching black button down, it’s hard not to let slip just how much of an attractive sex god Hudson Millen is.

Especially now I’ve seen what he’s packing.

And he’s standing in front of me.

He’s mine.

All mine.

“I’ve got nothing on you,” Hudson praises, taking a hold of my fingertips gently. “Spin around for me.”

I do as he asks with a grin to my face, relishing in the way his eyes cascade over my figure, eyes darkening and hooding over with desire.

All I’ve ever wanted is to feel desired – mind, body and soul – and Hudson… Hudson makes me feel exactly that way. He doesn’t make me feel wanted just for my body, he makes me feel desired as a whole.

A whole person.

“Good enough to fucking eat.” Hudson’s voice drops an octave lower than before, pulling me into his body, his hands resting just above the curve of my arse.

I scrunch up my nose playfully. “Maybe later… if you’re good.”

Hudson’s brows raise an inch or two, before he laughs, tucking his head into the crook of my neck, sucking a kiss there. “You’re wicked, you know that?”

“I do know that,” I say, taking his hand and leading him out onto the freezing street beyond. “But I’m pretty sure you can handle it.”

W e take the underground to a part of Soho I don’t frequent often, walking along hand in hand as the nightlife of London streams out into the street.

I read the names of bar after bar, but Hudson doesn’t appear to be guiding me inside any one of them, so I keep walking, trying to ignore the cold biting away at my exposed toes in my peep toe stilettos.

But it does no good.

Hudson must notice me shivering, for he unwraps his scarf from around his neck, instead winding it around mine, even as I protest.

“I’m fine! Really, Hudson!”

“You’re cold,” he argues, bringing the edge of the scarf upwards to cover my chin. I can smell the scent of his citrusy aftershave still clinging to the material. “It’s only a few more minutes’ walk away, but I’m not having you be freezing cold, Gee.”

I squeeze his hand in gratitude, continuing to follow Hudson’s lead as he urges me to the left of him so he can be the one standing closer to the curb and the edge of the busy road.

We walk along past piles of slushy grey snow, dodging patches of ice covering the pavement, until Hudson pulls me into a doorway much less crowded than the other bars we’d passed.

It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the lighting, blinking away the flashes of silver coating my vision, to make out the dark bar lining the back wall, a mirror behind it reflecting the rest of the space.

I expect to see tables – some tucked away into secret corners, others with high bar stools framing their edges – but instead I see…

“Crazy golf?” I giggle, looking up at Hudson.

The strange techno-coloured lights flash across his face, turning his lips a strange shade of blue before the lights move to cascade down his side and land on the floor, but it’s impossible not to miss the grin crawling across his pretty lips.

“Yeah. It’s something different than just the usual dinner and drinks. I thought we could grab a drink from the bar, play a few rounds and then go back to mine.”

I nod excitedly. “Sounds good to me.”

Smiling like a pair of fools, I follow Hudson to the bar. The whole place is busy, but not too crowded, which I prefer; other couples and groups of friends dotted around the different courses, each with a different obstacle you have to navigate in order to putt the golf ball into the hole.

“What do you want to drink?”

I grab one of the paper menus from the sticky bar top, pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I flip through the different cocktails, mocktails, beers and shots the bar offers.

“I’ll have an espresso kamikaze, please.”

“One espresso kamikaze and whatever house beer you’re serving tonight, please, mate,” Hudson reels to the waiting bartender, flicking open his wallet and plucking out a twenty-pound note before I can even fumble for my own purse.

“Don’t even think about it.” Hudson turns to me, one eyebrow raised, pointedly looking at where I’m about to unzip my handbag.

A sound of protest leaves my lips. “You said I could buy us the next one, remember?”

“No.”

“Well, you did! At the pub!”

“Oh, yeah…” Hudson bobs his head slowly in agreement. “I lied.”

“You lied?”

“Mhm—thanks, mate.” Hudson shoves the change from the bartender into his back pocket. “I lied. When you’re out with me, Giselle, I’m not letting you pay. Although, I do appreciate the offer.”

Dropping my hand from my zipper, I accept the thin stem of my cocktail glass from Hudson’s fingers.

“Stubborn bastard,” I huff, loud enough for him to just hear me over the music track blaring through the overhead speakers.

“And don’t you forget it,” Hudson quips back at me, stealing a kiss from my lips, as if he can’t help himself, before he moves to collect us each a golf club and a tiny paper scoreboard so we can keep track of who wins.

I take a sip of my cocktail as I watch him – the long stride of his legs, the way his back muscles bunch together beneath his button down as he reaches forward to grab something, the shapely peach-like roundness of his arse filling out his tailored trousers.

Being with a personal trainer definitely has its perks.

“You checking me out, Giselle?” he asks as he stalks back to me, a smirk playing about his lips. The heat in his eyes and the cockiness lacing his tone, tells me he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from my mouth.

“Just appreciating the human body.” I hum into the thin rim of my cocktail glass, taking another small sip and relishing in the strong taste of coffee and high-quality vodka.

“Mm.” He presses a golf stick into my free palm. “Anything I can do to improve?”

“Wear less clothes.”

Hudson stares at me for a millisecond, and then throws his head backwards, laughing throatily. It feels good to make him laugh, to know I can mess around and make jokes with him and he isn’t going to take it the wrong way or be offended.

Still chuckling, he wraps an arm around my waist, ushering me onto the first fake grass course. Handing him my drink to hold, I twine my hands around the golf club, positioning my feet shoulder width apart and with a swing, I take my shot.

I keep my eyes on the ball as it runs over the small wooden bridge serving as our first obstacle and comes to a slow rolling stop inches away from the red flag marking the hole.

“Not bad, Gee,” Hudson mutters into my ear.

To an outsider looking in, it probably just looks like he’s having to innocently whisper in my ear to be heard over the constant chatter around us and the music, but I’ve come to learn Hudson Millen’s games.

Very rarely is he innocent, no matter how much he turns up that boyish charm of his.

The man is pure filth.

As are the words that come pouring out of his mouth next.

“I just want to let you know the feeling is very much mutual, Giselle.” I feel his semi-hard length graze the curve of my arse. “I wanna see you naked and dripping on my bed. Those bendy legs of yours spread wide, your sweet pussy split in half, creaming around my cock… but I’m trying to be a gentleman here. To show you there’s more to me than just fucking. To show you I want more of you than just your body. I want your sense of humour and your wicked competitive streak. I want your personality and the soft side of you that you hide away. I want it all Giselle and you’re going to give it to me before we fuck, so you know what we have between us is true. So, you know I’m not messing around.”

I’m left breathless, the apples of my cheeks warm with a blush, as Hudson steps away, pressing our drinks into my clammy palms and taking his turn on the golf course.

Shifting on my heels, I take another sip of my cocktail, the warmth of the alcohol only adding to the giddy, weightless feeling dancing through my body, from my fingertips down to my toes.

Just when I thought Hudson Millen couldn’t get anymore attractive, he goes and says things like that. It makes my heart thrum a little bit faster in my chest to know he’s been listening; taking on board the things that are important to me.

I only hope that I can do the same for him.

Hudson’s ball flies through the air, landing with a small thump onto the fake turf and rolling until it’s nestled behind my golf ball.

“Unlucky,” I quip, not even attempting to hold back my grin.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling about, Gee,” Hudson taunts, stepping up toe to toe with me until my breasts are brushing up against his chest and he can peer down his nose at me. “I’m a Millen and Millen’s don’t lose.”

I wrinkle up my nose in faux annoyance. “Sure, they don’t.”

“You’ll learn soon enough… after I’ve eaten you alive.”