by Carian Cole
“Then act like one.”
“Oh, like you’ve been? Please.” She rolls her eyes.
“Why are being like this?”
“Why are you?” she shoots back.
“Because I care about you. And I don’t like seeing men put their hands on you.”
Her eyes narrow, then go wide, as if suddenly she had a light-bulb moment. “Are you jealous, Lucky?”
I crack my knuckles and put my hands up. “Look, I’m not doing this,” I say. “This stupid fight shit? Nope.”
“We already are doing it. You can’t just say you don’t do it when you’re right in the middle of it.”
“Yeah, I can. It’s late. Go to bed.” I point to the hallway.
“Don’t tell me to go to bed. Why are you treating me like a little kid?”
I rub my eyes with my palms and blow out an exhausted sigh. “I don’t know, Skylar. I’m tired. I gotta get up in three hours.”
“I know why,” she says matter-of-factly. “You’re trying to convince yourself I’m young.”
“You are young.”
“You want to believe I’m too young.”
“Too young for what?” I ask, even though I know exactly what she’s talking about.
“Too young for us to be more than friends.”
Damn. I can’t believe she’s going there, full force ahead. While I admire her rip-the-Band-Aid-off approach, I’m not ready to get into this right now.
Or maybe not ever.
“We really shouldn’t be having this conversation,” I say.
“Why not? I’m not afraid to say what’s on my mind.” She lifts her chin defiantly, and she looks sexy as hell. “I like you. You make me laugh and I love your sweet side. I like how I feel when I’m with you. And I think you’re hot. I think you feel the same way about me. That’s what put you in a jealous rage earlier.”
“I don’t get jealous, Sparkles.”
And it was hardly a rage.
She slowly shakes her head back and forth with frustration. “I’m being honest with you, Jude. Because that’s what adults do. You’re the one who’s acting like a teenager, not me.”
Frustrated, I take a few steps back toward the bed, then change my mind and turn back to her. “Fine. You want honesty? Let’s do it.” I spread my arms out. “I like you, too. More than friends. More than I should, and more than I fucking want to. I think you’re cute and sexy, and you make me laugh. You make me happy. I love your crazy-ass clothes and your cat with the fucked-up name. I just wish you weren’t eighteen years old.”
“Was that so hard?” she asks, stepping closer to me. She puts her hand on the middle of my bare chest, and fingers my necklace. That simple touch burns through me like a shot of whiskey. “Why does it bother you so much?”
The scent of beach sand and perfume drifts off her. Inhaling it, I struggle with the urge to pull her closer, bury my face in her hair, and roam her body for stray bits of sand clinging to her thighs and ass.
“Because I’m too old for you.”
“I like old things, Lucky,” she says softly. “You should know that by now.”
Her words ignite a fire in my heart and sends a rush of heat through me.
“I’m serious, Skylar.”
“So am I. If we both want more, why can’t we have it? There are no rules here. No expectations. I’m old enough to make decisions about my life and my body. At least we know we won’t hurt each other. Right?” She leans forward and presses her soft lips over my heart. It takes every molecule of self-control I have not to toss her onto my bed and tear her clothes off. “I don’t expect you to date me or marry me.” She lets out a little laugh. “Pun intended. But if I want you to kiss me, why not?”
I touch a lock of her hair hanging just past her breast. I wind it tight around my finger then release it. It falls back against her, still curled in the shape of my finger. “If I kiss you, I’m not going to stop.”
She stares up at me. Her eyes are full of everything that draws me to her. Mischief. Fire. Desire. Honesty.
“Then don’t stop,” she says.
I grab her cheek in my hand and slowly drag my thumb across her bottom lip. She inhales slowly, and her eyes flutter closed in anticipation. The dark tattoos on my hand against her pale complexion are a wicked turn-on.
I feel like I’ve just pulled up to a traffic light, and all the lights are lit up.
Stop.
Wait.
Go.
They’re all blurred together. I don’t know which choice is right.
“Kiss me,” she whispers, pulling on the chain of my necklace.
I can’t resist anymore.
Grabbing her waist with my free hand, I pull her hard against my body and crush my lips down on hers. Her gasp of surprise fuels the fire she’s already stoked with her inviting touches and perfect words. I move my hand over the curve of her ass and down to the back of her bare thigh, lifting her until she hops up and wraps her legs around my waist.
Kissing wildly, I kick the bedroom door shut with my foot, then push her back up against it. Breathless, she snakes her arms around my neck. Her nails graze over the back of my head as she shoves her fingers through my hair. Our tongues wrestle and caress hungrily.
I grab her hands in mine and pin them against the door above her head. Her thighs tighten around me and her eyes go wide as she meets my gaze. She’s already breathless and I’ve barely touched her.
“Have you done this before?” I ask.
“Been kissed against a door by the hottest guy on the planet? No.”
Smirking, I touch my lips quickly to hers. “I mean are you a virgin?”
If she says yes, I’m out. That’s a place I won’t go.
She swallows and raises her chin a little. “No,” she says. “Is that a disappointment?”
I shake my head. “I want a woman, not a little girl.”
A teasing smile dances across her lips. “Does that mean I’m getting more than a kiss?”
I kiss her again, long and hard, pushing my tongue past her teeth to meet hers. Tilting her head, she opens her mouth to mine, deepening the kiss. Her heels dig into me, pulling me in.
As her breath quickens, I pull away. I rub my thumbs along her hands, still captured in mine against the door, and grind my cock against her through our clothes.
When she moans, I kiss her throat, loving the vibration against my lips, then raise my head to look into her eyes.
“You tell me, Sparkles. Do you want more than a kiss?”
“Yes.” Her tongue peeks out to lick her lower lip, and she nods. “Much more.”
My heart thunders and my dick throbs in response as I slowly lower her to her feet, then touch her chin, angling her face up to mine. I plant a kiss on the tip of her nose.
“Get on that fucking bed,” I whisper.
Chapter 31
Skylar
Get on that fucking bed.
My God, his voice is so incredibly sexy with that deep, raspy edge.
Are aural orgasms a thing?
Because I’m pretty sure I just had one.
He comes up behind me as I stand at the foot of his bed and puts his hands gently on my shoulders.
“Having second thoughts?” he asks.
I shake my head without turning to him. “No, just trying to decide which side is going to be mine.”
He lets out a laugh. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. Your bed is right down the hall. I have a no-staying-the-night rule.”
“You stayed the night last week,” I point out.
“Only because you had surgery and I didn’t want you to be alone.”
I’m glad he can’t see the smirk on my face. He may have left my bed before I woke up, but I distinctly remember him holding me all night, and softly kissing my temple when he thought I was asleep.
More accurately, Jude has a no-getting-attached rule. I recognize all the signs because I also have that rule. However, it doesn’t seem to be work
ing for us. Our rules are breaking themselves. Although, a little voice inside tells me maybe they’re breaking a little more for me than for him.
I just have to keep reminding myself that I’m here for the happily for now and not the happily ever after.
And right now, all I want is to get on that bed and let his touch banish the stress from all the bullying, my eating disorder, and all my various other worries about how my life is going. Jude is like a magic eraser. When I’m with him, it all fades away.
Turning around, I unknot my T-shirt and slowly lift it over my head. He steps back a bit and watches me with insatiable hunger. I’m definitely not ready to give a sultry, pole-worthy strip tease, but I refuse to let myself look nervous, shy, and awkward. All those things will throw up the she’s-too-young red flags.
He looks insanely hot as he comes toward me, and I soak it all in. The messy hair. Those sterling eyes. Muscular arms and washboard abs; the sweatpants slipping down his hips, showing off a bulge big enough to have its own zip code.
Cupping my face in his hands, he kisses me long and slow. I think he’s caught on to the power his touch has over me. I’m a rag doll—my insides turning to mush, my limbs weak. I lean my body into his and hold on to his huge biceps to keep from swaying. As we kiss, he moves his hands slowly down the sides of my neck, his thumbs grazing over my throat, then over my shoulders, to my back. He unclasps my bra, then slips it off and tosses it on the floor. Effortlessly, he lifts me up and lays me down on top of his puffy charcoal comforter. I lie back and watch him as he removes my shoes, then stands between my legs as he unzips my shorts and tugs them down, along with my panties.
“I think I just want to stand here and look at you all night,” he says, inching his hand languidly up my thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. His eyes sweep over me and he gives his head a little shake. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I peek at him through my lashes. “I could say the same about you.”
He grins, and I sit up on the edge of his bed and grab the waistband of his pants. This time, he doesn’t stop me. He lets me pull them down, and his stiff cock springs free.
“Commando?” I inquire. He’s already hard as steel, pulsing with heat right next to my face.
“Only when I sleep.” He touches the side of my head, gently weaving his fingers through my hair. “I thought I was going to bed, but someone was being a bad wife by staying out too late.”
“You better not say you want to spank me,” I warn, only half-joking. I’m not into the Daddy thing. If he is, I might just pack my bags and my cat and leave tonight.
“Hell no,” he says, moving his hand down to caress the back of my neck. “I want to see your lips wrapped around me like a good little wife.”
My pussy clenches, letting me know my body is totally on board with all these things, even if my mind has totally just hit a brick wall.
I can’t put his cock in my mouth.
OhGodOhGodOhGod. I can’t do this. It’s too big. I can’t even swallow vanilla pudding yet. There’s no way I’m going to be able to swallow cum.
I was so close to being normal.
I’m totally defective. Abnormal. Damaged. Not good enough.
My hand trembles as I stroke his smooth shaft. He’s long, hard and thick, throbbing with heat and desire in my hand. I can feel myself getting wet just touching him, thinking of him inside me. I want this man so bad, I just can’t do that.
Above me, he sucks in a breath.
“Jude…” My voice wavers. I stare up at him and wait for him to open his eyes and look at me. “I can’t…”
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.
“I can’t do the blowjob thing,” I whisper. “Because of my—”
“Shit… I’m sorry. My mind’s like mush right now. I’m not thinking.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, I—” My voice catches in a tight ball of embarrassment and shame.
“Shhh…” He moves his hand from the back of my neck to my cheek, and with his thumb, brushes away the tear that spilled there. “It’s okay.”
His voice is soft, but there’s a tinge of disappointment riding on it, and I don’t blame him. I can only imagine what’s running through his mind. Not only does he think I’m too young, but now I’m a tease who had a meltdown once his cock was in my face.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, flushing with humiliation and releasing his still-hard dick from my hand. “I’m gonna go.” I start to sit up, but he pushes me back down.
“You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think that’s a deal breaker, babe.”
Grabbing my hand in his, he wraps it around his cock and guides it along his length.
“Touch me,” he says, his voice hoarse with desire.
I stroke him slowly, gripping him in my palm and caressing the hot, damp tip. His head bows down, his hair falls over his face, his eyes close. My heart swells with adoration and lust for him. Leaning forward, I put my lips against his flat stomach. His ab muscles flutter deliciously as I rain a slow trail of kisses from hip to hip. I feel like a little kid on Christmas morning, getting an amazing gift in the form of sexy tats and an incredible body all wrapped up with a big red bow of sweetness on top. He groans and grabs my shoulders, pulling me up to meet his lips, kissing me with such hunger I can’t breathe. His hands travel roughly down my body, his fingers dig into my skin. He cups my ass in his hand, squeezing it hard, and slips his other hand between my thighs. I whimper against his mouth when his finger slides into the slickness of my slit and traces slow circles.
My knees weaken. It feels so good.
“Lay down,” he whispers in that deep, rough voice that makes me clench tight around his finger.
I do as he asks, and my heart pounds as he crawls over me. The way his muscles flex as he moves is jaw-droppingly sexy. I can’t believe I get to be with someone so beautiful.
I can’t believe I’m married to someone so beautiful.
Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him down on me, so we’re flesh-to-flesh. We kiss slower this time, savoring and tasting each other. Our bodies meld together, hot, hard and soft. I never knew being with someone could feel this way—so perfect and completely connected.
When we part for air, he gives me an adorably mischievous but sexy grin. “I have to find a condom,” he says with a little laugh.
“Okay.”
He kisses my forehead and holds his lips there for a few moments, inhaling slowly, as if he doesn’t want to leave me. “I’ll be right back,” he finally says.
I’m breathless as I watch him get off the bed and rummage in his nightstand, then his top dresser drawer. Then his closet. My eyebrow rises when he starts fishing through his wallet.
I’m not sure if I should be glad he doesn’t have an endless supply of condoms at his fingertips, or worried that he’s sexually unprepared.
“Fuck,” he mutters, throwing his wallet on the floor. “I don’t believe this.”
“I think I might have one,” I say meekly.
“You do?” His tone is part relieved and part suspicious.
“I keep one in my purse just in case. I’d rather have one than not have one,” I reply, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “Like now.” I pull my shirt over my head and tug it down to my thighs.
“You don’t have to get dressed…”
“I’ll be right back,” I say as he playfully smacks my ass.
When I get to my room and see the two stuffed animals on my bed—one my grandparents gave me when I was little, and the other the teddy bear Jude gave me the first time he came to my house, I suffer a moment of crushing anxiety.
Jude’s friendship has become a lifeline for me.
What am I doing?
Is this going to wreck us forever?
What if he’s disappointed in me as a lover? I’ve already denied the guy any kind of oral sex. Don’t men live for that? What if he never wants to go near me again after this? What if it gets so
awkward, he doesn’t even want to spend time with me anymore?
If that happens, I’ll miss our couch cuddles, our movie nights, our goofy talks, and our handholding. Those little intimate moments are everything to me, and I’ll be devastated if it stops.
I take a few grounding breaths, then dig through my purse until I find the condom I threw in there a year ago. My therapist said I have to face my anxiety, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m not going to let it get in the way.
“Thought you ran away,” Jude says when I return to his room and shut the door behind me. He’s sitting on the middle of the bed, still with an erection.
Impressive.
“Took me a minute to find it.” I hold up the silver packet and climb up on the bed with him.
He immediately pulls me down on top of him and kisses me like he hasn’t seen me in a year, wrapping both his arms around me. “Are you still okay with this?” he asks when we come up for air, his eyes searching mine. “It’s okay if you aren’t.”
“I don’t want this to ruin us,” I say, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. It surprises me how comfortable I feel lying in his arms, especially with him naked and his cock pressing into my thigh.
He nods slowly and brushes the back of his fingers across my cheek. Of course, I melt. “As long as we’re honest with each other, that won’t happen. I promise, Skylar. You mean too much to me.”
“I promise, too.”
Pulling me to him, he kisses me so softly and gently that my heart aches with the overwhelming feelings he stirs in me. He’s total whiplash—sweet one moment, and raw and sexy the next.
He lifts my shirt off, rolls me over onto my back and kisses me from my lips down to my belly button, then back again, driving me wild with every nip and suck along the way. His teeth graze over my nipple and tug it into his mouth until I squeal his name. When he spreads my legs wide and lowers his head into the apex of my thighs, I thrust up against his face and thread my fingers through his long hair.
Spreading my folds open with his thumbs, he laves his tongue over me, tantalizingly slow, from my wet hole up to my clit, pausing to suck it between his full lips and lap it into a buzzing frenzy with the tip of his tongue. I dig my nails into his scalp when his thumbs push inside me, stretching me wider. My pussy pulses and clenches when he plunges his tongue deep inside, swirling it around my walls in slow, deliberate circles. My entire body trembles with desire as he fucks me with his tongue and fingers. Wetness drips down my inner thighs.
