The Art of You

“What are you doing roaming the halls in the middle of the night?”

Enzo’s voice froze me in place, and I hung my head, trying to come up with an excuse. The hall was only lit up by a motion light near the baseboards. “Midnight snack?” Why’d I say that like a question?

“Sure you were.” He didn’t wait for me to turn. Nope, Enzo went around and cock-blocked me. He even went so far as to open his inked arms and set each hand on the opposite walls to really prove his apparent opinion on the matter. Standing before me all edgy and tense, he may as well have been playing a twisted game of Monopoly. I didn’t need to see his eyes to read, Do not pass Go and do not collect any orgasms.

For his information, I had no plans to “collect” anything but a decent sleep. I’d already had two O’s this evening, one by Hudson’s hand earlier and one by my own a minute ago.

But perhaps I needed to give Enzo a chance to explain instead of putting words in his mouth.

“I don’t want to be alone.” My defense felt as floppy as post-rain hair. It sounded pathetic even if it was true. “We were just going to sleep together.”

The barrier of his arms fell like a bridge being lowered—slow suspension and controlled movement. “I may be laid-back lately, but I don’t want to hear about my little sister having sex.”

I swatted his chest with the back of my hand. “Sleep as in sleep. That’s all we planned to do. He’s not going to bang me under our parents’ roof, especially not with you guys in the house. Jeez.” Gone Baby Gone. It wasn’t just a movie name, but seemingly the appropriate title for my mouth. Ugh.

“It’s a damn good thing you bumped into me, not the others,” he grumble-growled. It was apparently a thing when it came to my brothers, and they did it well. Could’ve taught a masterclass in how to make words leave their mouths in the form of wild animal-like sounds.

“I didn’t bump into you. You stopped me.” Semantics, but it was the best I could do right now.

“Do we need to have the birds and the bees talk?”

Okay, the humor in his tone that time was not only unexpected, it was such a dramatic change that I had to wonder if I was sleepwalking.

“No, Bianca did in fourth grade. And Mom gave me the ‘Men are from Mars, and Women are from Venus’ speech half a dozen times more than necessary, too.”

“Relax. I was fuckin’ with you. I know he wouldn’t do something like that in our parents’ house.” I couldn’t see his mouth, but there was a smirk there for sure.

Bullshit. You know we already did something. Just not sex-sex.

“If sleeping next to Hudson makes you feel better, then go. I won’t stop you. Just remain in a parallel position.”

I couldn’t help but laugh that time, then cupped my mouth, worried I’d wake up Constantine. “You sound ridiculous,” I teased in a low voice, lowering my hand.

“You mean as ridiculous as you only wanting to join Hudson so you’re not alone does?”

You have me there. “Why are you roaming the halls anyway?” I’ll take deflection for $400, please.

“Maria’s struggling to sleep, too. If she’s up, I’m up. It’s only fair. I’m going to the living room to FaceTime her. Constantine’s room is right next to mine, and you know how he is if he doesn’t get his beauty sleep. Don’t want to keep him up.”

“Well, tell Maria hi, and I’m sorry you won’t be going home tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He shooed me away. “Now go. Don’t stay up too late.”

I smiled. “Roger that.”

Maneuvering around him in a hurry, I rushed to Hudson’s room. The door was unlocked, and the room was pitch black when I opened up.

“Don’t trip.” His husky voice was like a little beacon of light, helping guide me to him after I’d shut the door.

I knelt on the end of the bed, feeling around in the dark, finally locating his leg. He was on top of the covers. Bare legs. No sweatpants.

“I came in my good-girl PJs, and are you only wearing briefs?” I wasted an arched brow since he couldn’t see me as I crawled up the bed, continuing to glide my hand along his leg.

He reached for my wrist. “What happened to your word, miss?”

“I was just trying to find my way to you.”

“Sure you were.”

He pulled me over so I was snug against his side. He was on his back, so I shimmied around and faced him, hooking my leg over his, stretching my arm across his hard chest to hold on to him.

“I can’t sleep in clothes, but you’ll be sleeping in yours. That’s an order.” He lazily ran his fingers under the sleeve of my top and along my arm, up and down in soft strokes. At least he hadn’t pushed me off him. Drawing his other arm around to my shoulder, he completed the puzzle of our perfect hug.

“How am I doing as a substitute for Rugby?” he asked a few quiet moments later.

I lifted my chin to peer up at him, but my eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness. “I think it’s safe to say you’re doing such a good job, I may just have to keep you forever.”

While gargling mouthwash the next morning, I stared at the vanity in a daze, remembering all the deliciously wonderful things that happened in here the night before. After that, I returned to the bedroom just in time.

In the short minutes I’d been gone, Hudson had gone from asleep to having a night terror.

I rushed back into bed, doing my best not to startle him.

“It’s a trap,” he repeated under his breath.

Oh God, was he back in the past and reliving that operation?

It was 6:20 a.m., and while it wasn’t quite light enough outside to illuminate the whole room, it was enough to see him clearly.

The strain in his jaw from grinding down on his teeth. The tight draw of his brows as if in pain.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re dreaming.” I swept my hand back and forth over his forehead in calming strokes. “You’re okay. It’s just a bad dream.”

Hudson’s body jerked. His muscles locked up. And before I knew it, he flipped me over, anchoring himself on top of me. I shot my hands up to cradle his face, hoping to snap him from the past and back to me.

“It’s me,” I cried as he blinked a few times, then finally set his eyes on me.

“Bella?” My name came out like it’d pained him to say it. He didn’t move, just remained staring at me.

I brought my hands down along his arms and over the flexed, rigid muscles. “It’s okay,” I said softly. “You’re okay.”

He angled his head, brows slowly knitting as he finally pieced together where he was and why. “We slept?”

“Passed out pretty fast actually.” We really did just need each other. No sex. Just warmth and safety. “I kept my promise. I behaved.”

“Did I make a promise?” That deep morning voice. Holy hell.

I swallowed. “No.”

He kept himself over me but dipped his chin, dropping his gaze between us. When he slowly rolled his hips forward, and I felt his hard length press against me, I forgot all about his bad dream. And I was pretty sure that nightmare was long gone for him, too.

His briefs weren’t the best barrier. Nor my silk PJ pants. Because as he nudged himself between my legs, it felt like we were naked, and I could truly feel him.

Palms to his slightly damp chest, I felt his heart race wildly beneath my touch. He moved his hips again, forward and back.

I wasn’t sure how he was keeping himself in this position with his beat-up arm, but I also couldn’t focus on much more than the friction he was creating with his movements. Hitting me in the perfect spot with each thrust. Missionary sex without the sex, but . . .

The next time he rubbed his cock against my silk-covered center, I shivered. He must’ve thought I was cold, because he reached back and pulled the covers over us.

Sheltered in place beneath this man, his hips kept a steady rhythm on top of me, moving as if he were inside of me instead.

“Unbutton your top. I want to see your tits.”

The rough order sent my fingers flying from his body to mine. I fumbled with the buttons, and with the heavy weight of his cock resting against me, my breath hitched with anticipation. It was quite possible he was going to get me off without ever physically touching my skin.

The second my buttons were free and the top was open, he pushed upright a bit and briefly shifted the comforter to the side so he could better see me.

He licked his lips, eyes pinned to my breasts. “Perfect. So fucking perfect.” He moved to his forearms, bringing the comforter back over us as his chest met my heated body. His hard muscles to my soft skin. And then he did what I hoped. He slammed his mouth over mine.

I worked my arms outside the cage of his position so I could touch him. We were both bruised and still injured, so I wanted to be gentle, but it was hard to restrain from running my hands all over him. To his back muscles. Rigid abs. Broad shoulders. Tight triceps.

My hand wandered beneath his briefs next, and he went still the second I wrapped my hand around his shaft. I swept the pad of my thumb over his crown, catching his precum.

“What are we doing?” I asked between kisses.

“Acting like teenagers.” He licked my lips open, commanding control and owning my mouth the way he already owned my body. “Being reckless.”

Reckless just became my favorite word if it meant having our limbs tangled together and his tongue in my mouth.

It was also too hard to jerk him off from this angle, and since he wouldn’t free me from the prison of his arms, I wasn’t sure how to make it work.

“You’re not going anywhere until you come, sweetheart,” he ordered between kisses. “So move your hand so you can rub that pussy against my cock. Just keep your panties on so I don’t wind up inside you.”

“Oh, but wouldn’t that be a happy accident? You pushing your cock inside me instead of just playing pretend.”

“Want me to stop this, miss?”

His threat was empty; he knew I’d never say yes to that.

I’d take dry humping over nothing every day that started with T. You know, today and tomorrow. And there was always one of those.

“Right now this is the only way I can . . .”

His cliffhanger hurt my heart. It scared me he still wasn’t quite on board despite the overwhelming evidence there was “more” between us.

“Don’t stop.” I decided to get out of my head and enjoy this moment. “But I’d very much like to get you off, too.”

“Not right now.” He nudged his nose against mine and kissed me. “Now, do what I said and move your hand.” He locked eyes with me, waiting for me to nod yes to his command.

I did as he requested, then arched my back to shift my PJ bottoms down to my thighs, creating less of a barrier between us.

“That’s my girl.” He brought his mouth over mine, and I moved my hips in circles while holding on to his arms, chasing relief only he could give me.

I neared my orgasm, desperate to feel this man inside me.

“One day. Just not now,” he gritted out, reading my thoughts, giving me hope with his promise there’d be another time.

And those words sent me over the edge.

Breathing hard, my stomach muscles clenched, and I let myself go and came.

I barely registered the sound of the door flying open, but Hudson went dead still on top of me.

“Wake up, we⁠—”

Constantine.

Because of course of all people to come in, never expecting for me to be here, it’d be him. Why didn’t I lock the freaking door?

“Fuck.” Constantine cursed again but in Italian, slamming the door shut.

At least we were mostly concealed by the comforter, but Hudson hung his head and swore as well before rolling off me.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Not your fault.” He lowered his legs to the floor and stood. The bulge in his briefs wasn’t close to being killed as he went for his sweatpants. “I chose to be reckless.” He’d kept his voice so low I barely heard him as I buttoned up my top.

Constantine knocked. “You decent?”

Still here? Really? I sat taller, clutching the bedding to my chest.

Hudson adjusted the waistband of his sweats, then faced the door, tearing a hand through his messy hair. He was still shirtless, but called out, “Yeah, you can come in.”

The hall was lit up behind my brother. His broad, muscular frame filled the doorway where he remained. He didn’t look at me and kept his attention on Hudson.

“It’s not what it looked like,” I stated quickly. “I didn’t want to be alone last night, and he was having a nightmare, and I⁠—”

My brother lifted his palm, a plea for me to stop talking as he swerved his gaze my way. “You’re both adults. I’m”—he scowled—“sorry I didn’t knock first.”

Okay, not the reaction I’d expected from the grump.

Constantine focused on Hudson, clearly not wanting to see his little sister in his best friend’s bed. “We have some possible news from Marc.”

“Something happen in Arlington?” Hudson picked up his shirt and held it at his side.

“Yeah, Clarke met with someone in a park at zero five hundred. Come down to the kitchen so we can fill you in before your dad arrives.”

Right. The governor would be showing up at seven a.m.

Constantine quietly left and closed the door without saying another word.

Hopping out of the bed, I went over to Hudson and offered to help him with his tee, but he stopped me from assisting.

“That didn’t really happen, did it?” he asked, brows drawn tight.

“Which part? Him walking in on us while I was getting off, or the fact he didn’t kill you?”

“Both.” He dropped his forehead as if fearing that despite what just went down, he’d lost his best friend. “Fucking both.”