by Unknown
“Who taught you how to do that,” he grated out. She didn’t answer, but he didn’t really expect her to. He was drowning, going down under the waves gladly with this incredible woman he’d known practically his whole life. It was a strangely moving experience for him, shockingly more intimate than it’d ever felt before with another woman…not to mention sexy as hell. His fingers made a fist in her hair. “Whoever it was, I wouldn’t know whether to kick his ass or thank him daily,” he muttered. He flexed his hips instinctively, needing to be buried in her warmth. She welcomed him gladly, taking him deep again, her forceful suck making his eyes roll back in his head.
He lost track of time, existing at the white-hot core of pleasure for several minutes. He found himself gripping onto the grab handle at the top of the SUV, desperate to steady himself, no doubt, while his other hand remained on her small head, his fingers tangled in her mane of hair, the feeling of her bobbing in his lap feeling intensely good.
At one point, she surfaced for air, licking at his teeming cock. Jude wouldn’t be surprised if steam was rising off him.
“Are you watching for Z?” she gasped.
He glanced up through the windshield, a tiny whisper of guilt penetrating his lust. Of course he hadn’t been watching for Z. There wasn’t a sign of life in the snow-covered parking lot.
“Fuck Z,” he muttered. He brushed back her long hair, so that he could see the outline of her pale face. He wrapped his own hand around the damp shaft of his erection. Cupping her skull, he watched as he inserted the tip of his cock between her lips. Ah God. It was incredible. So sweet. She sunk him deep, her low moan vibrating into his flesh.
Chapter Twenty
Jude wanted to let go. He craved coming in her warm, milking mouth.
But he wanted inside the hot, liquid core of her even more.
“Jude?” she asked breathlessly when he urged her off his cock. She sounded bewildered, her voice sexily rough from taking him so forcefully and so deep. It drove him crazy.
“I want in you,” he said, too far gone to be anything but blunt. “Take off your pants, and come over here.”
“But—”
“You can face the damn windshield and look out for Z if you’re so worried about it. Just get your bare ass over here, Esme.”
He regretted sounding so harsh—so reckless—but what the hell? He was desperate. Surprisingly, she didn’t argue. While she took off her boots and unfastened her jeans, he moved back his seat into a more accommodating angle. Not soon enough, she was shoving her jeans onto the floorboard and straddling the console, coming toward him. He reached for her hips, coveting the feel of silky smooth skin and the sweet, feminine curve of her ass. She’d stripped bare from the waist down, all except for a pair of white ski socks. He found those sturdy wool socks next to her satiny skin to be sexier than the slinkiest lingerie he’d ever witnessed.
“Turn around,” he urged, helping guide her with his hands. He grunted when her knee sunk into his rigid thigh muscle. She apologized hastily. “It’s okay. Just grab onto the steering wheel…”
She settled finally, still gripping on the steering wheel and leaning forward slightly, him leaning back in the car seat. Her pale ass hovered over his crotch. Unable to get a full breath of air into his lungs, and sweating from the strain, he caressed her smooth buttocks before cupping one cheek tautly in his hand. With his other hand, he reached between her thighs and penetrated her with his finger.
She let out a muted shriek.
It was like dipping his finger into warm oil.
Steeling himself with the thought of how frigid the air had been when he walked out of the café earlier, he held up his erection and guided her down onto his length. He heard her muted scream rattle in her throat. He pulled her hips firmly, seating himself in her.
She was a tight, teeth-grinding squeeze.
For a few seconds, everything went black. The only sound he heard was his own heart pounding in his ears. If Z chose that moment to enter the bar and drink himself blind, then heaven help him because Jude certainly couldn’t.
He came back to himself at the sound of Esme saying his name plaintively.
“Shhhh,” he soothed without thought, reaching beneath her sweater to stroke the silky length of her back. Her vaginal walls clenched, making him wince in agonized bliss. His hand lowered, now outlining her heaving, delicate ribcage, tiny waist, and the graceful slope of her hips. Mesmerized by the beauty of her, he grasped her hips, urging her to move. Esme gripped onto the steering wheel and complied.
They groaned loud in unison, the sound of their desperate ecstasy echoing in the cab of the SUV. She began to rise and fall.
“Jesus,” he muttered, wave after wave of pleasure beating into him. Esme was small and compact, but damn, she was strong. And she was right about one thing: she was every bit as focused and determined as him when it came to sex. Caught up in a whirlwind of lust, he stilled her bobbing ass inches above his lap. She fought him some, groaning and trying to continue to pump her hips.
“Keep still, Es,” he ordered bluntly, popping an ass cheek briskly with his palm.
She whimpered, but kept in place. He flexed his hips forcefully, his pelvis striking her ass in a series of rapid, lewd slaps. Her disbelieving cry filled his hears. He couldn’t agree more. It felt sublime.
He couldn’t restrain her for long, though. Soon, she was using the steering wheel to power her return strokes. Everything turned into a hot, straining, sweaty battle for the finish. Since she was riding him like an expert broncobuster, he took the opportunity to slide his hands beneath his sweater and cup both of her breasts. She groaned and pushed down extra hard, seating him deep. She ground down on him, making tiny circles with her hips. He could have sworn the tip of his cock had he’d reached the very limit of her. A powerful tremor went through her body. He felt that familiar hot tickle at the base of his spine. He pulled down the flimsy bra she wore, pinching at her erect nipples.
“Come on, baby. You go first,” he grated out.
“Damn it Jude, quit telling me what to do.”
He didn’t mind her snappy tone. Not a bit. Because as she spoke, her entire body convulsed. Her heat rushed over him. He ground his teeth together. God, she was coming, good and hard. She began pumping her hips, frantically and unevenly this time, tiny cries skipping out of her throat.
He reached between her thighs, finding her clit. She was wetter than he remembered ever finding a woman. It drove him mad. He rubbed her firmly, soaking in her incredulous cries as her climax amped up a notch.
At his limit, he circled her waist with one arm, hugging her to him. He took her weight, pounding her down on him.
It was raw, no holds barred, fucking fantastic.
His head fell back against the headrest. His eyes opened wide as he came, but he saw nothing. His entire being was in that explosion, all of him detonating…fusing with Esme.
She hung limply against the steering wheel, listening to her own panting in her ears. Behind her, she felt Jude lift her sweater, exposing her back. Her panting halted at the exquisite sensation of his lips running along her side. He scraped his teeth gently at the indentation of her waist, and then planted a firm kiss.
“You’re beautiful,” she heard him say before he grasped her hips and seated himself more firmly. He still felt very full inside her, a warm, delicious pressure.
“Thanks. That was—”
“Unbelievable,” he finished for her.
“Yeah. It was.” He cupped both of her butt cheeks and kneaded them gently in his big hands. His actions struck her as both lazy and deliberate at once. Miraculously, she felt a pang of pressure in her sex.
He probably could arouse a dead woman.
“I’m not going to like it,” he said from behind her, his voice rough and thoughtful.
She turned, trying to see him, her long hair tickling the skin of her exposed back. It was very dark in this corner of the parking lot, but she thought he was staring at w
here they were joined…at her ass in his lap.
“Not going to like what?”
“Going back to D.C. after New Years.” She swallowed thickly and turned to face the windshield again. She felt the coolness of the air on her skin; something she hadn’t even noticed while she’d existed in the center of need. He squeezed her ass cheeks tautly.
“Not being able to see you. Touch you,” he added.
“I…I could come and visit you?” she suggested cautiously.
He leaned forward, completely wrapping her waist in both of his arms. He rocked her back against him, pressing his face against her back. She closed her eyes, steeling herself against the divineness of his all encompassing embrace combined with the fact that their bodies were still fused. She felt the slight stubble of his whiskers as he brushed his cheek against her exposed back.
“You say it like it’s a question,” he murmured. “You are coming to visit me. And I’m coming to visit you.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, her mind spinning off into unimagined realms. It was weird to think about it. Jude in her life, not just in her mind and in her dreams. Jude…walking around in her familiar world in L.A.
Weird, but wonderful.
“That’s okay, right?” he murmured, his lips rubbing lightly against a patch of skin, sparking every nerve he touched.
“Yes,” she assured rapidly. “I was just thinking…”
“What?” he prodded when she faded off.
“That I’ll really have to clean my loft.”
She felt a burst of air against her skin. A warmth unlike anything she’d ever experienced surged through her at the sound of his rough laughter.
Nearly two hours later, Esme watched as a group of three left the Moto Café and headed toward a white SUV. They’d observed members of the band leaving around an hour ago, and the crowd had been steadily thinning out since then.
“There’s only four cars left in the parking lot,” she observed. “And those have to belong to the staff. They’ve got to be closing soon—” She halted abruptly when someone—she thought it was the leather-wearing bartender—flipped the sign on the front door to CLOSED.
“Well, that’s it,” Jude muttered, checking his watch. “Z’s not coming.” He turned on the headlights and pulled on his seatbelt. Esme followed suit.
After they’d gotten dressed earlier, they’d attacked the food from the café. Jude had kidded her about her ravenous appetite, and she’d told him the truth. “It’s not just because of the phenomenal sex. This pulled pork taco ought to be patented. Everything’s so fresh and yum.”
She studied Jude’s profile when he pulled back onto the road that led into town. “Why do you look so serious?” she asked him quietly. “Shouldn’t we be glad Z didn’t show up at a bar? Maybe he hasn’t relapsed, after all. Maybe all the stuff about Stephen and Mom was just too weird for him, and that’s the only thing that set him off.”
“Maybe,” Jude said noncommittally.
“But you don’t really think that, do you?”
“I’d put my bet on the idea that the bartender called him and told him about our visit. I caught her looking out the window once.”
“When?” Esme asked, frowning.
“Just after we finished,” he replied wryly, probably guessing she was imagining the bartender spying on them fooling around.
“You don’t think anyone could see much in that corner of the parking lot, do you? It was awfully dark.”
He gave her a swift glance. “I don’t think she—or anyone—could see any details. But I think she could tell there was a car parked way back in the lot. Maybe she saw movement inside.”
“Hmmm,” Esme mused. “So you think Z and the bartender have a thing? And she called him to warn him off from coming to the bar?”
Jude shrugged. He reached out and grabbed her hand, placing it on his thigh. He seemed to like doing that, and Esme liked it in return. She squeezed his hard thigh muscle, memories of their heated, charged tryst in the parking lot parading across her brain. They’d ridden in vehicles together a thousand times, but Jude’s small gesture of physical, intimate contact between them symbolized nothing was the same.
“I’m not going to worry about it anymore tonight,” Jude said. “Tomorrow is Saturday, but I saw a sign at the garage that said they were open. Chances are, one of the mechanics won’t be as loyal to Z as his girlfriend is.”
Esme let her head fall back on the headrest, lost in thought as she stared out at the darkness and the empty stretch of highway.
“Jude?” she murmured.
“Hmmm?”
“How are you feeling about Stephen? The fact that he’s related to you, and that he kept that fact from you? I mean…are you as mad as Z seems to be, and just dealing with it better than him?”
“I’m not mad at Stephen. Not anymore, anyway. He lied about being our uncle all these years, yeah. And I wish he’d told us. But I get that his mother didn’t want the truth known. Just because I don’t know, love, and respect Stephen’s mom doesn’t mean Stephen doesn’t. And…”
“What?”
“That one lie of omission about his being our uncle doesn’t cancel out the fact that he’s always been there for Z, Grandpa Joe and me, day and night for twenty-two years.”
“Yeah. You’re right, it doesn’t,” Esme said quietly. “Stephen would have done anything for you guys. He’s such a fantastic guy.”
His hand tightened on hers where it lay on his thigh.
“Fantastic enough for your mom?”
“It’s not that I don’t think Stephen isn’t good enough for Mom.” When Jude didn’t reply, she felt the need to defend herself. “It’s not, Jude. It’s just—”
“He’s not your dad.”
“Yeah,” Esme whispered. She sniffed and stared out the passenger side door, averting her face from him. He chafed the inside of her wrist with his forefinger.
“I don’t think Stephen has any thought of taking your dad’s place, Es.”
“You don’t?” she asked hesitantly.
“I think he and your mom fell in love over the past year or so, and that they make each other happy. But come on…we’re talking about Stephen here.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning more fully toward him.
“Stephen’s always stood on his own. Look at us—at Z and me. You know what little shits we were for years after we got to Grandpa Joe’s…after…”
“Your parents passed,” she finished for him gently.
“Yeah. We were living terrors. Skipping school to go to the skate park. Mouthing off to teachers and Stephen. And when we got a little older, drinking and smoking. Or getting caught sneaking onto the ski resorts instead of paying.”
“Causing that avalanche when you and Z went freeriding on backcountry up by Mt. Rose,” Esme added.
Jude grimaced. “Stephen skinned us alive for that. We deserved it. Thank God no one was hurt in that avalanche. My point is, did Stephen ever play the trump card of being our father’s half-brother to haul us into line when we acted out? Did he try to step into my dad’s shoes? No. He just kept at us, day after day, helping us with homework, spending time with us playing football or boarding, or helping Z build his bikes in the garage, giving us consequences and punishments when we screwed up, and never backing down. He became a father figure to Z and me, not because of his blood relation to us. Because of his actions. I have no doubt he’ll want to build his own relationship with you girls. He’d never try to assume the role of another person. That’s not his way.” Jude exhaled heavily, his expression going hard. “Fact is, Stephen was a better father figure to us than our own father was. Much better,” he said quietly.
Her hand tightened on his thigh. “I never thought I’d hear you say something like that,” she said in a hushed tone. He shrugged.
“It’s the truth. Getting mad at Stephen for all his virtues isn’t going to decrease my dad’s faults any.”
She saw the hard line of his m
outh, and understood he didn’t want to enumerate his father’s faults: the fact that Jude’s dad had been too busy with his work to spend a fraction of the time Stephen had dedicated to Z and Jude, or that he’d treated Grandpa Joe very coldly after he became wheelchair bound, or that he’d selfishly and foolishly lost the family fortune. It may be the truth, and Jude may be mature enough now to admit it now, but that didn’t mean confronting his father’s shortcomings wasn’t still painful. She rubbed his thigh, trying to communicate her compassion silently.
“You’re right. About Stephen I mean,” Esme mused. “Stephen would never want to replace my dad. He’s too much of his own man. I guess it’s just weird, seeing him in this new light.”
“For me, too.”
“It’s twice as bad for you. Now you have to think of him as your father’s brother and Grandpa Joe’s son, as well.”
“Yeah. It’ll just take some time, I guess. For everyone. Maybe when we get back, we should try to spend more time with Stephen and your mom. Start to see what they’re like…as a couple, I mean.”
She exhaled heavily, suddenly sharply disappointed in herself.
“What?” he asked, noticing the face she made.
“They tried to do that. Mom and Stephen. Last night, Stephen came over, and we were supposed to all do something together. Like a family. But instead, Ursa disappeared to her room, Sadie faked being fascinated by some ancient Christmas movie, and I…”
“What’d you do?”
“I just avoided them by pretending to read a book and waiting for you to come out of the Lodge,” she said, frowning fiercely. She looked over at the sound of his rough laughter.
“Like I said. Just give it some time, Es.”
She studied his profile in the dim light, a strange feeling of wonder going through her. She squeezed his thigh.
“Stephen did bring you up right, Jude. You turned out amazing.”
In the dashboard lights, she saw his flashing glance at her. He lifted her hand.
“You turned out pretty damn brilliant yourself,” he murmured huskily before he pressed her hand to his mouth.
