by Sosie Frost
And neither was Jude. His eyebrow rose. “I don’t need to use my hand.”
I swallowed. “I don’t think a Jedi mind trick will work.”
“No…but I could use my mouth.”
Oh. God.
The air rushed from my lungs.
Jude.
Between my legs.
Kissing. Licking.
Staring at me with those silver eyes.
I couldn’t. A touch was crazy enough. Stripping even more of a mistake.
“If you want it…” Jude whispered with a growl. “Just ask.”
“But that’s so…intimate.”
“Tell me someone’s done it for you before.”
“Not well.”
“Then it doesn’t count.”
Jude rose to his feet, but he swore as his knees popped. He ripped his shirt off.
The bruises spanned his entire body, tracing dark and purple, just the right color to set off warning bells in my head. This wasn’t good. Every movement agonized him. Jude gritted his teeth as he slipped my pants low. His shudder was not from pleasure.
“You’re really hurting,” I said. “I took an oath that says do no harm.”
“I’m not feeling pain, Doc,” he whispered. “Just the opposite.”
“I can’t make you do this.”
“Who says you’re making do anything?”
His arm looped around me. I hardly recognized the growl in his voice, but it was a welcomed side to a hidden, mysterious part of his personality. His kiss stole my protests, but it couldn’t hide his flinch. There was no way I’d make him bend and move and pleasure me at his expense.
“You need ice, not sex,” I whispered.
“And you need to come on my tongue.” The words shocked us both. “I rather taste your heat than ice myself down…and I know just how to do it.”
Jude slipped my pants lower, lower, lower, until I stepped from the material and stood before him.
Only one set of panties. I should have followed my own advice.
He curled a finger as he returned to the couch. “Take those off and come here.”
I’d follow him off a cliff if he promised to touch me on the way down.
Jude rested on the couch, and the relief coursed through his expression. His eyes darkened as he watched me, impatiently waiting for me to follow his order.
A strip tease?
He stared at me, hungry and waiting. Jude wanted me as badly as I wanted him. I didn’t take my eyes from him. I dipped my fingers into my panties and ignored the swelling low in my once-flat belly. I pushed the material away as quickly as I could without tangling myself in the cotton.
I revealed everything to him
Every fold. Every secret. Every slickened part of me that wetted for him and only him. Jude studied all of me, feasting with his eyes.
He curled his finger for me to approach.
Somehow, my feet moved. I drew near him, but I wasn’t ready. Jude grabbed my waist and pulled me closer.
Onto the couch?
No! Onto him!
I gasped as he laid down and rested me on his chest. This wasn’t what I thought would happen. I straddled him. Jude’s hands tugged me higher.
Towards his face.
“Oh, wait…” I gripped his chest. “I…I don’t think.”
“Easiest way for me to taste you.” His voice almost muffled on my legs.
“But…But I’m…”
“Never done it this way before?”
I untwisted my ankle and plunked down onto his chest.
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
“You want me to…”
Jude grinned. “You want me to take it easy. I want you to come. I’m not gonna disregard a doctor’s orders…not when there’s an easier way.”
“But’s it’s so…”
“Sexy?”
“Naughty.”
Ten minutes ago, I’d never have imagined me naked in front of Jude. Now he wanted me to sit on his face? Where he’d be able to hold me, lick me, taste me, take me without even moving?
“Come here.” His voice was a soft command. “You set the pace. You tell me what you want. I’ll do anything that makes you feel good.”
“But you’ll be…” I swallowed. “Close to me.”
“That’s the best part, Doc.”
He tugged on my hips.
Oh, this was a bad idea.
Thoroughly humiliating. Absolutely shameful. Entirely immodest.
I never had sex with the lights on, and he expected me to spread my legs over his face and offer every last part of me for his tongue?
His hands curled over my waist. He pulled me close, and my knees pressed into the couch on either side of his head.
Was I trembling, or did my heart pound hard enough to cast me off balance?
I couldn’t do this. It was too embarrassing to have Jude Owens near me, staring at me—
Tasting me.
The first swipe of his tongue teased my petals with the broad heat of his mouth.
The second series of flicks batted at the most sensitive part of my clit, unshielded and exposed for the delicate, gentle caress of his kiss.
The third lap of his tongue abandoned pretense halfway through. His lips sealed around my nub.
He suckled.
And my hips bucked forward in utter ecstasy.
“Oh my God.”
If Jude responded, his words were muffled in my own slit. Vulgar. Immoral.
This was, without a doubt, the sexiest thing I had done in my life. He had access to every part of me. My folds opened, and he twisted his tongue within my petals. Shocks of delight thrilled me…and soaked him.
The slurping should have disgusted me. It only bucked my hips harder.
My unmuffled groans should have embarrassed me. Jude clutched me tighter.
And the speed at which my body ached, rolled, and crept closer to that beautiful abyss would have shocked me.
Whoremones be damned. This was all Jude. Every touch. Every kiss. Every word.
I held my breasts, the couch, anything and everything that could give me leverage. Jude encouraged me with his own pleased groans. His fingers dug into my hips, and he growled as I bumped forward, unrepentantly humping against his lips.
My head fell back.
Every muscle in my body ached, tensed, burned.
“Jude…” I arched and offered more of my slickness for his tongue. “I’m…I’m…”
His words muffled. God, it was so wrong but damn if it didn’t thrill me just as much. I quaked. Bounced.
Thrust my hips forward.
And my crest erupted just before the sharp crack echoed from beneath me.
The thrills and tingles, shocks and jolts were nothing compared to the relief that coursed through my core. It was perfect. It was peaceful. It was every release I’d ever imagined, better than any fantasy or silly, naughty daydream.
The crash of excitement soothed fraying nerves and blinded me to any regret that might have overshadowed such a powerful crush of pleasure.
I bent over Jude. My body jerked, swayed, and quivered.
He groaned as I did.
But…his wasn’t a good groan.
I blinked hard, screeching as a spurt of blood sprayed from his nose.
“Jude!” I lurched off the couch. “Oh my God—what happened?”
Jude hauled himself up with a hiss, touching his nose.
His bent nose. His flinched as he touched the tip. “Shit, that hurts…”
The world stopped spinning. I flung off.
“I broke your nose.”
“No, that’s not…” More blood spurted. “Yeah. Okay. You might have broken my nose.”
“Oh my God.”
I repeated it, rushing to my feet. Once. Twice. Nope. It didn’t curb the panic. Or the embarrassment. The suffocating, constricting, nauseating embarrassment.
I launched from the couch and rushed to the kitchen. As much as I hated throwing
up in his sink, it wouldn’t be the first time. He’d forgive me. This was nothing compared to breaking his nose with my gyrating pussy.
I rinsed the sink. Who would have ever thought I was queasy around blood? That was eight years of medical training well-spent.
He needed something to mop up the blood. I grabbed the hand towel wrapped over the oven handle.
Phillip watched the flicking material and thought it made a swell game. He leapt and latched onto the end of it, growling a playful grunt and twisting his head.
“No, Phillip!” I tried to rip the towel back. “I need this! Release. Let go! Heel! Stay! Cookie! Anything!”
The dalmation’s tail wagged harder. He shook his head again.
“No! Phillip! Let go!”
The dog obeyed.
I was not prepared.
He released the towel, and I flung backwards, elbows first.
Into Jude.
One elbow dug into his pecs. The other…
Well, it batted something.
And, like a coiled doorstop flicked with a finger, Jude yelled once more as nine solid inches of flesh boinged inside his gym shorts.
Unfortunately, the padding underneath his slug of meat caught the brunt of my elbow.
Jude went down.
Phillip grabbed the towel with a victorious bark.
And I resolved to mop of the blood spilling from Jude’s nose, pack my bags, change my name, and escape into the night. I’d find work under an assumed identity. Hell, I’d open my own private medical practice. Apparently I was damn good at drumming up business.
I handed Jude a paper towel. It wasn’t his nose that concerned him. Jude curled, against the wall, and grabbed at his boys. He hissed, but he seemed to be in one piece.
Mostly.
I awkwardly shifted my weight. Of course I was still naked. God forbid I retain any dignity.
I gave him a weak smile. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
Jude groaned. “I’m gonna hope yours felt better.”
“Would it help if you knew that it was very nice?”
Jude chuckled, letting me tilt his head slightly forward to check his nose. “Then it was worth it.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why, planning to break my leg if we sleep together?”
The thought of a night with him nearly stole my voice. “Don’t ruin the surprise.”
“How’s my nose look, Doc?”
“Like we should go to the hospital and call the Rivets’ trainers.”
“Won’t we have a story to tell?”
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“And I told you, Rory.” Jude didn’t let any crippling pain stop him. “You’re worth it.”
Was it wrong to think he was being sincere, or was I just being foolish? Who was I kidding? I wanted to believe him as badly as I wanted another touch.
This was a mess. I’d just made everything more complicated…and bloodier.
One selfish moment was enough to ruin a friendship. What would happen if I admitted my feelings?
How many lives could I destroy with the truth?
11
Jude
The team listed me as questionable for the game—because of the broken nose.
I’d survive, but Rory nearly died of embarrassment. At least I’d be there to kiss her awake if she went down. Then again, if she went down on me, I’d be the one dying and going to heaven.
If she gave me the chance.
If she’d ever talk to me again.
If she wouldn’t hide from me at the field, in the house, and in the locker room.
I shouldn’t have been thinking about Rory, not while suiting up for an important game so early in the season. My pads were on. Jersey stretched over my chest. I bundled my hair in a ponytail and swiped the black under my eyes. At this point in my career, the only way I’d stay in step with the younger guys was if I focused entirely on the game.
But, fuck, the locker room made it hard to concentrate.
Too much noise. Hooting. Cheering. Yelling. Lockers slammed. Equipment thudded. Water ran. Life buzzed into a grating hum, and it set me on edge.
This wasn’t me. I never used to hate this part. I lived for the high-stakes atmosphere. I loved the sweat and the hits and playing under the lights. Night games were intense. We played late tonight, 8:30, a nationally televised game against the Atwood Monarchs.
It’d be the first time I faced Eric since the disaster dinner with Rory’s family.
What might have been a chance for a little friendly competition became another source of stress. It throbbed my headache even more, blitzing me like the noise of the locker room. My blood pressure rose without stepping onto the field. I tried to find a quiet place to think before kickoff.
That was impossible.
My headache got worse.
“J-u-u-u-de.” Lachlan howled. He encouraged the guys to mimic the cry. Somehow, Lachlan even had the fans doing it, chanting for me every time I touched the ball. “You feeling good, All-Star?”
No, but that was normal for me anymore. “You know it.”
“Got you listed as questionable,” he laughed. “Couldn’t believe it until I saw the shiners myself.”
The black eyes came with the broken nose. Not terrible, but enough that Rory couldn’t look at me without her mood flinging past humiliated and crashing into the weepies.
Which she adamantly denied, of course.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I don’t need my nose to run the ball.”
Jack slapped my shoulder pads. “Still not gonna tell us how it happened?”
“I already explained it.”
“Run it past me once more.”
I wasn’t in the mood. “Rory bumped me while we were cleaning…vacuuming.”
Cole snickered. Jack raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” Lachlan said. “You fell headfirst into some kind of carpet.”
DeSean and the linemen overheard. “You’d think the honeybuns would break the fall.”
Jack laughed. “Oh, she gave the man a thorough physical after that one.”
“And a sponge bath for good measure.” I dropped the smile. Took too much energy to fake it.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Maybe I needed to hit something. Get on the field and smack into a defensive lineman or linebacker. Once I stepped on the grass, I’d calm down.
I had to.
My heart thudded too hard, and the noise in the locker room pierced into a single note of pure aggravation. I hated this. My temper never got the best of me.
Except for now.
“Jude?”
Her voice was a tinkle of bells in a locker room of braying jackasses.
Rory had joined the team during the games, remaining on the sidelines with the other medical staff. She donned the same polo shirt as the trainers, but she was going to need a bigger size if she wanted to hide the bump.
“Jude.” Rory beckoned me over with a quick wave. “Come here!”
Lachlan laughed as he tied his shoes. “Careful she doesn’t snap a finger this time.”
I responded with a perfectly in-tact digit.
I didn’t like how quickly Rory ran, or how her expression twisted. The tunnel wasn’t a good place for a conversation, not when the stadium shook with seventy thousand screaming fans waiting to cheer on their Ironfield Rivets.
She stared at me, and my mood improved. Maybe she couldn’t look me in the eyes, but Rory’s lips parted as she surveyed the uniform.
She liked what she saw.
And, if she said the word, she might have had all of it.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice raised.
Rory said nothing and took my hand. I froze as she pressed it hard against her belly.
No.
The stadium fogged into silence, and I nearly dropped to my knees.
The thought of anything happening to her or Genie crushed me. I was supposed to be her protector. I
swore I’d help her. I’d promised—
And then I felt it.
The thud.
Even through my gloves.
Rory smiled brighter than any of the lights over the field. “Do you feel her?”
I did.
And it was…
“Wow,” I said. “That’s…”
“I thought I had felt her kick last week, but it was so faint! This though! This is a real kick!”
“Hell yeah it is!” I grinned. “She’s got one hell of a punch on her!”
And not a moment too soon. Genie might have been the only reason Rory wanted to talk to me, but I’d take all the help the kid could give me.
“She’s cheering you on.” Rory giggled. “Must know it’s a big game.”
“Glad to have another fan.”
Rory touched her tummy too, but her hand traced over my fingers. “Eric’s playing tonight.”
“I know.”
“You shouldn’t mess with him.”
The crowd cheered. I leaned close to hear her. Rory still had to shout.
“He wouldn’t answer his phone last night,” she said.
“I texted him too. He…blocked my number.”
“He’s angry. Don’t try to approach him during the game.”
That’d be hard. I’d be clashing with him head-on tonight. But I’d been friends with him for twenty-six years. That was a bond nothing could break.
“I’ll handle your brother,” I said. “It’ll be fine. But I gotta focus now.”
Rory understood. “Good luck.”
“Got that in the form of a kiss?”
She smiled. “You want me to get that close after what happened?”
“Everyone’s watching.”
I’d lied. Only a couple guys waited outside the locker room. It was enough to convince her though.
It might have made me slime. At least it made me happy.
“Don’t want to risk a bad game, do you?” I asked.
Rory stood on her tip-toes, afraid to touch me even though I sported twenty pounds of gear to protect me from her worst.
Her kiss was light, sweet, and just the sort of motivation I needed to get my ass on the field.
And then back to the penthouse.
To bed.
What did I have to do to make sure she’d be there?
And how the hell was I supposed to concentrate on the game when the baby was kicking, Rory was finally smiling, and Eric wanted to knock my goddamned head off?
