Wild, Hungry Hearts

by Unknown

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She was feeling drowsy and content by the time they pulled up at the B and B. But the second Jude opened the cabin door for her and flipped on a lamp, she found herself perking up.

  “It’s so cute,” she murmured, delighted by the cozy, intimate interior. They stood in a small living room, complete with a real, decorated Christmas tree, a stone fireplace, a deep, comfortable-looking couch and a granite and wood mini bar. “Look—champagne,” she exclaimed, lifting a bottle out of an ice bucket.

  “It’s probably not cold anymore,” Jude said from behind her.

  “Most of the ice has melted, but the bottle is still super cold.” A thought occurred to her and she turned toward him, startled. “Did you order this?”

  “Yeah,” he said casually as he took off his coat. “I asked the owner earlier to send it to our room. I didn’t think we’d be away for so long.” He glanced at her and did a double take. “What’s that smile mean?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in consternation.

  “Nothing. I’m just not used to this new, polished…romantic Jude,” she said, trying to hide her pleased and—shockingly—shy smile. It didn’t help things that he just stood there across the room, looking tall and brooding and handsome as hell, studying her odd reaction closely.

  “It is our first night staying together in a hotel room,” he said quietly. Again, that thrilling feeling swept through her, of him being Jude, whom she’d loved her whole life, and a sexy stranger, as well. It excited her: the paradox.

  “Should I pour us a glass?” he asked, walking toward her. Something about his somber expression and the hard gleam in his eyes made her heartbeat go into double time.

  “I feel kind of grubby,” she said, staring down at herself. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”

  “No. You go ahead. I’ll get the fire going and open the champagne, and then take a quick shower after you.”

  “Okay,” she said breathlessly, realizing they were planning for more than just sharing a glass of champagne in front of the fire. It suddenly struck her full force, how giddy and self-conscious she was acting, how raw and exposed she felt. She shook her head.

  Laughter popped out of her throat.

  “What?” he asked, that puzzled, wary expression returning to his face.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she confessed, unable to stop the urge to laugh. She snorted and covered her mouth, her eyes going wide in surprise at her odd reaction.

  “I mean…it’s you, and it’s me, but it’s this room and the champagne and a fire and…I don’t know!” She paused to wipe a tear from her cheek. “Every time we’ve done it before it’s been like spontaneous combustion between us. But this is…well, it’s hard to wrap my head around it,” she admitted between jags of laughter.

  She thought he’d be irritated at her bizarre show of nerves at the idea of being so deliberately intimate with him. Instead, he smiled, slow and sexy. Abruptly, the last thing this situation seemed like was funny. Her laughter faded.

  “It’s okay, Es. Everything is going to be okay.”

  “I know,” she said quickly.

  “No. You don’t.”

  She blinked at his concise, sharp reply.

  “You’re feeling kind of see through, right? Vulnerable?”

  Her throat too tight to respond, she just nodded once.

  “Yeah,” he said, shifting on his feet. “Me too, a little.”

  His gruff, surprising admission seemed to hang in the air between them.

  “I’m not going to walk away this time, Es.”

  She started at the accurateness of his reply, a little gasp of air escaping her throat. He’d gotten it right, of course. It was like she was sixteen and standing before him with her heart in her hands all over again. She had been feeling like that infatuated girl, wild to open up to him, and yet scared out of her mind of being rejected again.

  He just nodded reassuringly. “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated gently. “Go and take your shower, Es.”

  She felt tears bite at the back of her eyelids. He’d understood. He’d gotten how vulnerable she’d felt, not only on that night over tens year ago. Tonight, too, in exposing that old wound to him…of exposing her heart as a grown woman.

  He really had grown up into an amazing man.

  “Okay,” she said throatily, backing up toward the bedroom door, self-consciousness riding her again. Something about the way he just watched her with a steady focus broke through her uncharacteristic shyness, though.

  She crossed the room to him in four long strides, went up on her tiptoes, and kissed him with all of her unguarded heart.

  When she stepped back a moment later, he looked a little stunned.

  “Okay,” she said breathlessly, pointing in the general direction of the bedroom. “Shower. Gotta…gonna. You know. Shower.”

  Jude made no comment on her temporary inability to speak coherently. He just watched her from with beneath a lowered brow with that intoxicating focus as she stumbled out of the room.

  She stared up at the showerhead, bidding the hot water rushing over her body to wash away some of her anxiety and excitement. It was so hard to keep it cool, given everything that’d been happening between Jude and her in the last few days. During her adult life, she’d never really specifically imagined details of what it would be like to open up to him, to express even a portion of her true feelings. But even if she had envisioned details, the reality would have made her fantasies pale.

  Jude had been beyond understanding. He’d been sweet and funny. More than that, he’d been concerned for her. He’d wanted to comfort her. He’d even admitted to his own awkwardness, given their evolving relationship.

  It was almost too much to take in.

  She’d always loved him. But she was just starting to get how little she’d actually known him…how little she’d credited him.

  She started at the sound of the bathroom door opening. The soap she held in one hand nearly slipped through her fingers at what she saw through the frosted, steamy glass of the shower door.

  The door slid open, and a naked Jude stepped in.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” he said, closing the door after him.

  “No,” she said, turning toward him.

  For a few seconds, they just stared at each other. Absorbed each other.

  Then he was coming toward her, his arms open, and her hands were going up to his shoulders. He brought her against him, his big, opened hands on her hips. Esme shuddered in pleasure at the contact of his naked skin against hers. He bent his knees, and his mouth seized hers, his kiss forceful and demanding from the first.

  His hands moved to her lower back, bracing her, and he stepped closer still. Water sprayed down over them. Her back bowed as they consumed each other. He felt so hot that her head swam. He cupped her ass and rubbed her wet hips lasciviously. She felt his response to touching her, his growing erection springing against her belly. Dizziness assailed her. She reached out blindly, thumping her hand hard against the shower door.

  He broke off their kiss.

  “Es?”

  “Sorry,” she said, wincing at her aching knuckle.

  He chuckled and stepped back an inch, reaching for her hand.

  “No. I’m sorry,” he said, lifting her hand. He glanced up at her with her knuckle still pressed to his mouth. Water ran down over his face and made his dark bangs fall straight on his forehead. His eyes looked warm.

  Wanting.

  “You’re right,” he said, lowering her hand to her side but keeping it enfolded in his own. “About the spontaneous combustion when it comes to this.” He looked down at her naked body. Her breath froze at the unguarded longing and lust she saw on his face. “It’s just…you’re so pretty. So damn perfect,” he said distractedly. He reached out and pressed his opened hand to the curve of her hip. He rubbed her ever so slightly, like he was appreciating the way she fit into his hand. “It’s hard to go slow
with you. So hard,” he muttered, sliding his hand up to her waist. His gaze jumped to her face, making the breath hitch in her lungs. It slayed her, having all that fierceness targeted directly at her.

  “But I want to, Es. I want to take my time with you.”

  She just stared up at him, too mesmerized by the nearness of his wet, hard naked body and gleaming eyes to speak.

  “Here,” he said, and she realized he was touching the hand that clutched at the soap, urging her to give it to him. She relinquished the scented soap. She glanced down, entranced by the vision of him spinning the soap in his large, masculine hands.

  She felt herself go wholesale wet, just at the erotic sight.

  He reached for her with soap-lathered hands, resituating her so that the spray of water didn’t immediately rinse her. Setting aside the soap, and standing several inches away, he began to lather her up with warm, slippery hands. He washed her hips and then her ribs, lowering slowly to her belly. Frissons of excitement shot through her, causing the warm, achy feeling in her sex to amplify.

  “All those years you lived just yards away from me, but I never really knew you,” he murmured, appearing very intent on his task as he circled around her belly button with his palms.

  “That’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  He met her stare as his pleasure-giving hands swept along the sides of her waist, then to her back, where he massaged her firmly. She groaned at the feeling of him rubbing tight muscles.

  “We’ve got a lot to learn about each, don’t we?” he asked quietly.

  “Do you want to know something about me? I like that, what you’re doing,” she said, her entire focus on his massaging hands, her mouth hanging open. She groaned. “It feels so good.”

  “I like it too.” His hands swept down the length of her back, rubbing her deep. “God really knew what he was doing when he made you, Esme.” He cupped her ass cheeks in his hands. She felt his cock brush against her lower belly and glanced down. He stood deliciously firm and erect, the flaring head pressing lightly against her skin. Her palms itched to touch him.

  “Keep your arms down,” he said, the harshness of his quiet demand taking her by surprise. Her gaze flew to his face. His expression was rigid. He’d read her mind and knew she’d been about to reach for the delight of his cock. “For now,” he added. “Let me play with you for a bit. Let me appreciate you, Es.”

  She stood still, their gazes locked, her consciousness narrowing to the sensual feeling of his moving hands as he washed and massaged her shoulders, neck, back, and the entire length of her spine. He stepped closer, the shaft of his cock sliding higher up on her soap-lathered belly. His hand strayed down between her thighs.

  “So warm,” he said thickly, the tip of his forefinger sliding erotically, but elusively against the opening of her sex.

  “Jude,” she whimpered, arousal flaring high in her. She leaned forward, rubbing her mouth hungrily over the wet, smooth skin covering a dense pectoral muscle. Loving the way he felt, she licked, and then bit at him gently. His cock surged between their pressing bodies.

  “I told you to wait,” he scolded without any real heat.

  She spun in his arms. Jude had turned her, seemingly without effort on his part. She opened her mouth to protest, but then he pressed her backside to him, and his warm hands were sliding across the front of her. He cupped her breasts from below. She lost all ability to speak, let alone complain. He soaped up her breasts languorously, rubbing and plucking the nipples until she thought she’d scream. She moaned loudly, twisting her hips against him.

  He urged her forward with his body.

  “Get under the water,” he said, his voice husky and very sexy, resounding near her ear. He followed her, his larger, longer body curving around her smaller one. Warm jets of water struck her chest. He massaged her breasts in both of his hands while he nipped at the shell of her ear with firm lips…and then gentle teeth.

  “Jude,” she managed in a strangled voice. He was holding her breasts up with the palms of his hands while his wet fingertips teased and taunted her nipples. It felt divine. He planted a kiss on the opening of her ear.

  “Hmmm?” he asked, sounding very preoccupied.

  “Let me touch you,” she implored. His cock was sandwiched between their bodies. His firm testicles pressed against the top of her buttocks, and the long, hard shaft strained against her spine. He merely massaged her breasts more briskly, and then pinched firmly at the aching crests. She gasped and pushed her ass against him tighter, writhing uncontrollably. He responded by grabbing her hip and grinding her against him. For a few seconds, they gave into the heat, their lathered bodies surging, pressing, and twisting together.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Esme couldn’t take it anymore. She had to touch him.

  “Jude,” she rasped. She reached between their bodies, but he abruptly grabbed her wrists. He turned her toward him. She stared up at his tense face, disoriented. Fevered.

  “Get out and dry off,” he said.

  “But—”

  He gaze dropped down over her. She panted hard, her breasts rising and falling. His jaw hardened.

  “Just do it,” he said. He grimaced slightly, as if he’d heard the edge to his tone. “Please, Es,” he said, releasing her wrists. “Go and get on the bed. I’ll be there in a few seconds. Okay?”

  She bit her lip hesitantly, but the sternness in his expression didn’t break. “Okay,” she whispered. “But hurry up.”

  He just nodded once. Reluctantly, she turned away from the mouth-watering sight of his wet, very aroused male body and brilliant eyes.

  A minute later, she peeled back the down comforter on the bed. The sheets felt cool and delicious next to her sensitive, overheated skin. She started to pull the sheet up over her naked body.

  “Don’t. Leave it down.”

  She started. He hadn’t made a sound as he exited the bathroom. She froze with the sheet clutched in her hand, watching him as he stalked toward her, gloriously naked and using a towel to casually dry off his hair. He paused by the side of the bed, his gaze running over her. He carelessly tossed aside the towel at the same moment he jerked the sheet out of her grip. It slipped out of her numb fingers. For a few seconds, the silence pulsed in her ears as she stared up at him, absorbing every inch of his male beauty while he studied her.

  He flung away the sheet. He dropped his hand, touching her just above her knee.

  “Open your thighs, baby.”

  His voice sounded low and rough in her ears. For a few seconds, nothing but the sheer sexiness of his command penetrated. She finally soaked in his serious expression and the determined set of his mouth.

  “What?” she asked breathlessly, propping herself up on her elbows and unconsciously clamping her legs together even tighter.

  He shut his eyes briefly, as if in frustration, and exhaled. He sat on the bed, his hand sliding between her knees.

  “Let me see. The tattoo,” he added when she just stared at him with open-mouthed disbelief. He raised his eyebrows with calm expectancy. “Open your thighs, Es.”

  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. “You know about that?” she asked numbly. “You saw?”

  He shrugged slightly. His warm hand moved at the inside of her knee.

  “Kind of,” he said. “I saw you had a tattoo, but I couldn’t make out exactly what it was.”

  “When?” she asked in a strangled voice.

  “In Beverly Hills, you kept insisting I couldn’t take off your pants. It made me suspicious. Then the other night, in the clubhouse, I was about to get a closer look at it, and you faked that leg cramp.”

  She fell back on the pillow, clamped her eyes shut and made a sound of sheer self-loathing. How could she be so transparent to him? Panic started to churn in her belly. She felt shockingly embarrassed and vulnerable. I mean, sure, I was going to have to let him see it sometime soon. It was kind of unavoidable. But everything’s happening so fast.
I haven’t had time to prepare for the embarrassment.

  I should just tell him the whole humiliating truth now.

  Not just about the tattoo.

  Everything.

  She groaned.

  She felt him shift on the bed, and guessed he’d leaned down over her. His fingers furrowed through her hair. His mouth brushed against her cheek.

  “What is it? What’s the big deal?” he asked. She opened her clamped eyelids. He looked perplexed. Concerned, too. “It’s just a tattoo, right? Lots of people have them.”

  “It’s not just a tattoo.” She barely got the words out of her throat. To her horror, she realized tears had filled her eyes.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  She turned her head away. God, this sucked. Emotion swelled in her, making her feel like she was about to burst. She didn’t know if she wanted to release it, or run away and hide. She felt his fingers on her chin, gently rolling her head on the pillow until she faced him again.

  “You’re freaking me out a little, Es. Just tell me what’s going on. It’s going to be okay.”

  For a few seconds, she just studied his familiar, handsome face helplessly. She was up against a wall.

  Nowhere to hide.

  But another voice inside her head was much more bold. Don’t be such a baby. He’s so much more fantastic and understanding than you’ve ever given him credit for.

  “Es—”

  “I never stopped loving you,” she confessed shakily.

  He went very still. The words had left her throat at the same moment several tears tumbled onto her cheek.

  “I told you earlier that I had a crush on you when I was a teenager. But it’s worse than that. So much worse. I’m one of those stupid, lame people who can’t let go of a teenage infatuation, I guess,” she said miserably. She looked up at the ceiling and gave a sharp bark of laughter, more tears spilling out of her eyes. “Other guys, they’ve come and gone. But at the center of things…” She gave him a wild glance.