Page 21 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson (A Sawyer Brothers Story #1)

Seeing him there was like taking a wrecking ball to the stomach.

He looked like a predator, his gaze roaming over my body as my fingers automatically scrabbled to rebutton the last two holes without looking.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves as I couldn’t break eye contact. He also wasn’t alone.

Talk about being caught with your pants down.

There he was. Hudson Gage. In all his manly glory, with a face that looked like it had been sculptured from marble.

His shoulders were broad, wide enough to carry the burden of any sin.

He’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt up.

The veins which ran up his bare forearms were a testament to his strength and power.

He smirked as he watched me checking him out. The guy was all ego, and I felt a surge of angry adrenaline at being cornered by him.

I took the initiative by asking, “What are you doing in here?” I was so relieved that I hadn’t started changing into my gym stuff. I glanced down, checking that my bra was covered. I still wore my skirt, but no shoes or socks.

Hudson whipped his head to glance at the small huddle of boys behind him, almost to check who my comment was directed at. There was also a girl there, I didn’t recognise her, but she was tall and slim with long brown hair.

“Since this is the guy’s locker room, I would ask you the same thing,” he replied smoothly.

Fuck! The members of his posse wore huge grins and glanced at each other like they shared the meatiest of secrets. The girl just rolled her eyes and sighed .

My frown appeared even though the penny had already dropped.

I felt stupid and attempted to defend myself by pointing out, “But—that girl, Storm said…

this was the girls' changing rooms?” The rest of my sentence dried up as Hudson crossed his powerful arms over his chest. The muscles flexed and bunched, and something inside my pelvis fluttered.

He filled out his school shirt well. I noticed his tie was missing.

Hudson cocked his head, “Of course, she did.”

What did that mean? Didn’t he believe me? “She did, honestly.”

He rolled his eyes, stating, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, princess, but you’ve been punked.”

Here we go again, another one of those American words where I had no clue of its meaning. And to think he had been the one to offer to tutor me in all things American. How on earth had we gone from there to this?

I cleared my throat, asking, “I’ve been what ?”

“ Punked , tricked, deceived, hoodwinked,” Hudson explained with an evil smirk.

I raised my hand to cut him off, “OK, I get it now.” After taking a calming breath, I motioned towards the female in the group. “So, what’s she doing here then?”

The group of guys cracked up at my comment, and even the girl smiled.

“For the same reason as you, maybe,” Hudson replied with a mocking twist to his lips.

As my eyes skimmed over the girl, I noticed she also had no tie on and the top three buttons of her shirt were open. I knew what he was getting at. A wave of revulsion rushed over me; the possibility of her having been brought there for sexual favours made me feel sick.

“What can I say? The boys did well at practice today and deserve a reward. Isn’t that right, Sasha?”

The girl looked puzzled for a heartbeat as she digested Hudson’s words, but then her expression turned feral, and she moved to curl herself around him, running a finger up Hudson’s chest. “Oh, absolutely,” she fired back at me.

“Sasha’s skillset is much wider than cheerleading, isn’t that right, baby?” He didn’t need to go on, I got it, and my face must have said it all.

Hudson then caught the girl’s hand and moved it away from his chest, ending his unnecessary translation. I watched, shooting invisible daggers. Had the girl really come there to dish out sexual favours for the team ?

Relief pooled in my stomach as Hudson turned his head to the side, barking an instruction to his pack, “Leave us.” He didn’t even need to make eye contact; they just swiftly did as he said. “You too, Sash. I’ll get Mase to text you.” Who the hell was Mase?

The fact that they all left without question didn’t surprise me, as people seemed to follow Hudson around like sheep.

As I now knew only too well, King Gage was a leader and carried an impressive amount of weight in the school.

Hudson was like a mythical god among men.

The guy’s entourage was like those pilot fish that swam alongside the sharks—no prizes for guessing what that would make Hudson.

Well, he was either a shark or a fricking pimp from the looks of things.

Maybe he wore more than one hat; it wouldn’t surprise me.

And now he hated me. I couldn’t believe he could still look so hot, even when he was looking down his nose. There was also that constant question as to why my fantasy about this boy had so soon turned into a nightmare.

Because you’re the principal’s kid.

Hudson hadn’t said as much, but it must have been something to do with that.

Once the last boy had left, Hudson turned back to face me and dropped his arms. My breath caught in my throat as he advanced on me, erasing the space between us with a brooding expression.

Why did he always have to look so growly ?

Well, apart from that first morning when he’d looked at me with such wonder and dared, I say, interest?

Why had things changed so quickly? What had I done?

“I don’t get the point of the prank,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “How does Storm benefit from sending me to the wrong changing room?”

My words appeared to annoy him more as his face darkened. His eyes were hard on mine. I wasn’t used to boys looking at me in a pissed-off way, especially when I hadn’t done anything wrong, well, not on purpose.

“ Locker room,” he corrected my English, “and you can’t be that naive?

” Hudson said as his eyes dropped to my breasts.

His expression was assessing. Was the guy trying to guess my cup size?

I held my hand against my chest and stepped back, the low bench digging into my calf muscles.

The thought of the possibility of Storm sending me there to ‘service’ the team like sweet Sasha was swept under the rug.

There was no way I was in a mindset to compute that one right then.

Hudson moved closer. His focus was still trained on my boobs. I felt like saying ‘my eyes are up here, buddy’ but I didn’t. He was tall and strong and my breathing became laboured at his nearness. Why on earth was I still interested in him with everything I had just learned?

Forget about the Sasha thing, he’s probably fucking with you.

As Hudson watched me, I inspected his face.

I hadn’t been this close to him since the lunchroom episode.

Each time I had seen him from a safe distance, I had attempted to read this boy.

Hudson had a signature smirk. It sat somewhere in between amusement and boredom.

On a few occasions, when he thought no one was watching, I saw something more real.

He looked unhappy, like he hadn’t truly smiled in decades.

The thought had made me feel down, and I knew that there was more to Hudson Gage than he allowed you to see.

To get to the bottom of his issues would take hard work and proper graft.

And what with everything going on in my head, did I have the strength to tackle that challenge?

Probably not, but I pressed on nonetheless.

“Where is the boy I met in the library?” I questioned, planting my hands on my hips.

I waited patiently as Hudson digested my comment.

Realisation then spread over his features. “Standing right here, English ,” he drawled cockily with one brow arched.

English? Well, it wasn’t the worst of nicknames.

“No, he isn’t. Where’s the nice guy I met, the one I laughed with? Unless you’re one of those split personality types.”

Hudson’s eyes roamed over my face. “Doesn’t everyone have two sides?”

My brow creased. “I don’t. What you see is what you get.”

“Indeed,” he muttered, but his expression suggested he wasn’t listening.

I should have felt self-conscious standing barefoot before him alone in the men’s locker room, but I didn’t.

I embraced being in his company. After my mom’s death, I hadn’t felt much of anything.

This was so much better than the nothingness, even though you couldn’t hide from that antagonistic vibe pulsing off Hudson’s shoulders.

I retained eye contact as I was met with his continued silence. “Hudson?” I prompted. I was trying to get his attention, but the guy was mesmerised.

“You’ve misbuttoned your shirt,” he replied huskily.

My stomach clenched. Glancing down, I could see a hint of cleavage and the lace of my bra, and he was right, I had.

The gaps of the top revealed parts of my stomach.

I should have been soul-crushingly embarrassed, but I wasn’t.

It must have been the shock of his appearance.

I so hoped he didn’t see how hard my nipples were .

Swallowing, I moved my hands to repair my mistake and gasped as Hudson stepped forward, catching my wrists, gently lowering them to my sides. “Here, let me.”

I shivered like a leaf in the breeze, and my breath hitched as he released me and raised his hands.

I held that breath, feeling powerless to stop him, hell, I didn’t want to stop him.

My arms remained where he had placed them, almost like Hudson had the power to make me both speechless and immobile with those three words.

I just stood there, allowing it to happen as his long fingers began unbuttoning my shirt.

Hudson Gage was undressing me now, and that thought made me feel warm inside.

He carried out the job slowly and thoroughly, his eyes on the task, that expression unreadable.

Each time one of his fingers caught my skin, a breath left my mouth, almost like I was panting.