“How’s your therapy going, man?” Maxwell asks Jude. “Any easier now?”
“It’s actually going well. Really well.” My roommates slides a grin my way. “Iris has been very helpful.” Jude gives me a secret look and I’m trying hard to keep from blushing because now, all I see is our limbs tangled up on my living room floor. Jude continues. “It’s early, and I haven’t told anyone else yet. But my doctor thinks there’s a chance I could play football again.”
Faith gasps next to me, and Maxwell claps Jude hard on the back. “Holy shit, man! That is awesome,” Maxwell says before turning to me. “You keep doing what you’re doing to get this man on track. I need him back on the field.”
Sometime later, Jude leans toward me with a bite of cheesecake hanging off his fork. “You’ve gotta taste this, Petal. It’s incredible.”
I give a subtle head shake even though I’m almost drooling for a bite. “I really shouldn’t. I’m on a diet—”
He must read the lust on my face. He leans close to my ear. “Iris, one bite of cheesecake won’t make you any less beautiful than you are. So if you want the cheesecake, eat the damn cheesecake.”
We lock eyes and I know he’s right. On an inhale, I open my mouth and he slides the dessert against my tongue.
I. Almost. Die.
With an eye on my expression, Jude chuckles. “You’re fucking adorable, Merlini.” Then the big, burly football player leans in. And he kisses me. Right there, in front of his friends and a room full of strangers. He puts his lips on mine and he sensually tastes my mouth. My heart flutters hopelessly, swelling within my chest.
As we’re leaving the restaurant a while later, Faith huddles near my date and I hear her whisper. “I love this one, Jude! I’m begging you…please don’t fuck it up!”
He gives her a wink. “Trust me—I won’t. I plan on keeping her.”
God. So much for not blushing.
30
Jude
Y’know, I never really thought I’d be a double-date kind of guy. But one night showing Iris off to my friends and I already know I want more of this.
More watching her insta-bond with my friends’ wives.
More whispering in her ear in between bites and grabbing her sexy thigh under the table.
More taking her home with me at the end of the night.
I know she’d been nervous about coming to dinner tonight. She tried backing out of our plans a half dozen times. But as I predicted, Maxwell and his wife loved her. How could they not?
At this point, I’ve decided that anyone who doesn’t like Iris Merlini can just fuck off. Just like my dumb ass in college.
She and Faith hit it off like they’ve known each other for years, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t affect me. Maxwell had a subtle nod of approval for me every time he caught my eye. Made me feel proud of my girl.
My girl…
It’s mighty presumptuous of me to claim ownership of the woman. But I don’t know…It sort of just feels like she belongs on my arm, by my side.
We drive back to her home with my fingers tracing her exposed thigh nearly the entire trip. A real man is comfortable showing his affection, and with a woman like Iris, I just can’t keep my hands to myself.
It’s late and the neighborhood is quiet, as usual. When I park in the driveway, I open the passenger door for her, helping her out of my ride. We head up the flagstone walkway, lit only by the torch lights lining the path. My hand lightly grazes the line of her back, the dip of her waist, the curve of her ass.
As we’re walking, I get this prickly feeling that has the hair on the back of my neck standing. I try to chalk it up to the electricity I experience each time my skin meets Iris’s, but this feels different. While she unlocks the front door, I discreetly look around, surveying the dark street behind us.
Once inside, Iris immediately heads upstairs to change out of her dress. She’s been complaining that her feet have been killing her since we left the restaurant.
I head to go grab some bottles of water from the fridge, but before I make it to the kitchen, the doorbell rings. I’m sure that’s not usual for this time of night. Iris doesn’t normally host a whole lot of visitors. I move cautiously. In a few large steps, I’m across the living room and opening the front door.
I halt when I see who’s standing under the glow of the porch light.
Kirk Bunting.
I haven’t laid eyes on him in years, and I have to say that time has been a bitch to my old friend. He’s not aging well. And he looks disgruntled. Irate.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he hisses into my face.
For a moment, I’m frozen with a flash of guilt. But then Iris’s pain comes back to me. Pain caused by the man in front of me. I decide that he can go fuck a bag of rocks for all I care. “I’m renting out a room from Iris.”
Kirk’s dark eyes narrow. “What I witnessed outside between you two looked like a lot more than just a landlord-tenant situation.” He watches me with a calculating gaze, challenging me to argue. Before I have a chance to confirm or deny the accusation, he growls. “Are you fucking my wife?”
His words leave me seeing red. Where the hell does he get off? How dare this man think he has any fucking right to show up here after all this time and make claims on a woman that he deserted?
I step forward and position myself in his face. I tower over him by several inches. “I may not be a legal expert, but here's the way divorce works. You decide to be a dickhead, and you call up a lawyer. He charges you a whole lot of money to draft up some papers. You sign said papers, and you force her to sign them too even though you know it's breaking her heart. A judge signs off on the whole thing. And then, guess what? You don't get to call her your wife anymore."
Kirk’s jaw twitches, and I wonder if he’s about to put his fist in my face. I would like to see him try.
Instead, he tips up his head, eyeing me with disdain. “You're supposed to be my friend,” he spits.
This is rich, coming from the guy who ignored my calls for weeks then downright ghosted me when he realized my NFL career might have been over completely.
“Lost all the hot football groupies and now you’re scraping the bottom of the barrel, huh?” He shakes his head. “How are you liking my sloppy seconds, Kingston? Iris always did taste a little…rancid. I can only imagine how awful she tastes now.” He bares his teeth.
I swear to god I’m going to kick his ass right this minute. I bump my chest with his, hard enough that he stumbles a bit. “There is nothing sloppy about that woman, dickhead,” I roar in his face.
His skin pales right before my eyes. I lower my voice because I don’t want Iris to walk in on this fiasco and get upset. Not when we’re having such a good night.
“If you don't back away from this fucking house right now, I will be scraping the porch with your face tonight.”
From the top of the stairs, I hear Iris call down to me. “Jude, is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” I shout back. “Some stranger got lost. They're just asking for directions.” I turn back toward Kirk, leveling him with a look and deadpanning, “Get. Lost.”
“This isn't over, Jude,” he seethes.
I shake my head, like I would at a child who’s a disappointment to their parents. “For your sake, it better be. Don't come back here.”
Standing tall, arms crossed, feet planted wide, I watch as Kirk stalks off the porch and down the street to whatever hole he crawled out of.
Good fucking riddance.
That idiot never deserved Iris anyway. And now, I’m going to make her mine.
I pound my way up the stairs and I’m on a mission. I’m going to climb in that bed that should have been his and I’m going to kiss that woman he was too stupid to love and I’m going to fuck her until I chisel every last memory of that asshole out of her brain.
She’s going to be mine.
When I reach the top of the staircase, I see her. Standing there. At
the end of the hallway. Completely naked.
I trip on the top step.
“Iris…” I croak. My voice sounds like there’s a bucket of gravel in my throat.
Moonlight coming in from the picture window creates a starlike glimmer off her womanly silhouette. I swear I can hear her heart pounding across the distance, or maybe that’s mine.
God, her whole body is perfect. Soft and curvy and perfect.
The woman makes her way toward me with tentative steps. Her breasts bounce gently, her hips hypnotize me with their sway. Pins and needles dance up and down my legs and I grip the wall for balance.
Iris places her delicate hands on my chest. I have to remind myself to breathe. “Jude, I…”
“What do you need, baby?” Right now, I’d do anything she asks.
Her stormy eyes lock on mine and it's like falling off a life raft, headfirst into an ocean of blue. “I’ve never had a man look at me the way you do,” she tells me with quiet, raw honesty. “And the way you touch me. The way you kiss me…I haven't felt beautiful in a really long time. You say that I am—”
“You are…” I step closer, our chests touching with her hands trapped in between. Protectiveness surges inside me and I want to hurt everybody who’s ever made this woman doubt herself.
“You say that I am, but I need you to show me.” She licks her lips nervously. “I need you to put your hands on me and show me, Jude.”
My hands fly out and grip her by the waist. My mouth finds hers as I rush her backwards. She tastes sweet and sinful at the same time. Kissing her is a crime I’ll never regret. Fuck all the reasons I let keep us apart. None of that matters. The only thing I care about is making this woman see the angel she is.
I push her against the window seat, my tongue plowing into her mouth to tangle with hers. My hands are in her hair, gripping her jaw, trailing her collarbone. I bend and drag the flat of my tongue up the center of her chest. Iris mewls when I take her hard pink nipple in my mouth. She cries out again when I give her other nipple equal attention.
With her ass propped up against the window, I slide my hand down her stomach. “Spread those sexy thighs for me, Petal.”
My touch moves lower, lower, lower and then her clit is a tight, pulsing knot beneath my fingertips.
“Oh god, Jude…” Her thighs clamp around my hand, halting me.
Immediately, I freeze. My eyes search her face. I see the hesitation there. “What is it, baby?” I flatten a palm on the cool glass of the window.
She’s flustered. I see a hint of her blush beneath the moonlight. “It’s just…I…It’s been a long time…”
I lean down and kiss her lips. “I know,” I say softly. “And I want to fix that. I want to make you feel good.” I give her another soft kiss. “But if you want me to stop, I will…”
Her eyes flicker across my face like it’s a book she’s reading. Finally, she reaches up and hooks an arm behind my neck. “Make me feel good, Jude…”
That’s all the encouragement I need. I kiss her hard and I’m rubbing her little bead. She’s so fucking wet on my fingers, pulsing and quaking with each stroke. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, Iris.” I’m groaning against her mouth. “I’m gonna make you come so hard.”
“Please, Jude. Please.” Her tongue slides into my mouth and dances.
I squeeze her breast, brushing a finger back and forth on her nipple then I band my arm around her waist. “Are you ready for me?”
She laughs. It’s soft and full of desire. “I’ve been picturing this for weeks. I’m ready.”
Her words send a shot of lust to my cock. “You’ve been picturing this?” I ask, as I breach her with one finger. It’s like sliding past the gates of paradise. She’s soft and hot on the inside. Silky. Tight.
My poor knees quiver.
“God, yes,” she whispers. Her skull falls back against the cool window. “I’ve been picturing this.”
I slide another finger into her. Her stomach clenches. Her pelvis curls upward. Her whole body shouts for more. I oblige with a third finger.
“Fuck, Baby. I’ve been picturing us, too.” I pump my fingers inside of her. “At night, when I would lie in my bed, I would wrap my hand around my cock and dream about doing this to you.” Her eyes squeeze tight as I finger-fuck her deeper. Slick honey drips from her slit, down my fingers, onto the window pane. “Did you touch your pussy when you were thinking about us together?”
She brings her feet up, soles flat on the window seat. She widens her thighs. “Yes…” she says breathily.
I almost lose it, right there in my pants at the idea of us both thinking about each other, yearning for each other, touching ourselves at the same time under the same roof with only a few sheets of goddamned drywall between us.
I should have taken this woman a long damn time ago.
And I’m ready to take her now. I curl my fingers inside of her and it takes her by surprise. She bucks and screams, chest arching toward the heavens. I do it again and this time, she fucking shatters.
Her limbs close around me and her face contorts into a gorgeous mask of pleasure. I feel like a king as I watch this perfect creature coming hard on my fingers.
“Jude, yes. Jude, yes. Jude, yes.” I keep working inside of her through her orgasm. I don’t stop until she’s falling limp against the arm I’ve banded around her back.
Through the glass, the full moon sits behind her head like a fucking crown. Appropriate ‘cause this woman is a queen.
31
Iris
Come closer, Petal.” Jude’s voice comes from between my thighs. “I’ve been dreaming about eating this pussy. Don’t make me wait.”
We’re in my bed now. He’s on his back, his palms spreading my thighs as I hover above his face. I’ll admit that I’m a little self-conscious, reserved. But this man is ready to devour me.
He guides my ass, lowering me onto his mouth. The first touch of his lips to my clit is electric. Back arched, I shout at the sensation.
He tenderly strokes a palm down my spine. “You okay?”
Too choked up for words, I nod.
And now, he just can’t stop. He tongues my pussy. He licks me top to bottom. He enters me with hard thrusts before circling the bead of my clit.
My hands come down on the wall above the bed, fingernails digging into the drywall. My nerves sizzle like faulty power lines beneath my skin. What is this man doing to me?
“Oh, Jude. Yes, yes. Jude. Yes.” I’m panting. Frantic. My hips rocking on his face.
He pulls back for air and his thumb flicks the bead of my clit. “Fuck, I could suck this beautiful pussy all day.”
I mewl.
And then he goes straight back to work.
Waves of pleasure rise and fall within me. I move and twist and beg on his mouth. And he just keeps probing me with that velvet tongue, exploring me with those big hands. He’s not intimidated by my curves, by all that fluff I consider extra. He fondles and caresses every part of me like it’s right where it’s supposed to be.
When I feel his tongue probing the pucker of my anus with a slow patient stroke, every muscle at my core tightens. “I’m coming, Jude.” I grab one tit, pinching my nipple between my fingers. “I’m coming.”
His tongue drills into my pussy then his lips clamp down on my clit and he sucks sucks sucks until something snaps. The flood of pleasure knocks my knees from beneath me and I fall. Headfirst. Gasping, flailing in the grips of the orgasm.
When I collapse onto the mattress, Jude’s arms swallow me up. He holds me against his strong chest until my breathing evens out. I feel his cock twitch against my thigh. He brushes sticky blonde curls from my forehead. “Petal, I want to fuck you now.”
“Please…” is the only word I can say.
He reaches for his pants on the floor beside the bed and grabs a condom. I watch his muscle-carved body in awe as he sheathes himself. I never thought this would actually happen. Yes, I’ve fantasized about it but now,
it’s about to come true. Jude Kingston is about to fuck me.
The man is hovering above me, kissing me. There’s nothing romantic about this kiss. No, this is messy. Fast. Desperate.
Tongues and lust. Moans and need.
I let out a small animalistic sound when his teeth accidentally nip my mouth. So he does it again, purposely this time, gently biting down on my bottom lip.
He grins against my mouth.
I speak against his. “Please, Jude.” I grip the back of his neck. My hips roll into his, begging him for more.
Not breaking the frantic seal of our mouths, he opens enough space between our hungry bodies to guide his rockhard erection inside me. We groan in unison at the sensation of joining together.
He’s rocking down into me and I’m thrusting myself up into him. Working together, we’re hunting down pleasure in the dark.
Jude starts moving faster, going deeper, fucking me harder. We’re both frantic, out of control.
And then he grunts. His knee gives out.
He tumbles into me and rolls, pulling me as he goes. Now, I’m on top of him.
Concern crackles inside me. “You okay?” I whisper, brushing my fingertips along his sweaty hairline.
He responds with a hungry groan. “Ride me, Petal. Make me feel good.”
Normally, I’d be so aware of my body, everything exposed in this position. But the man’s desperate plea goads me on. The only thing I’m aware of his his pleasure. And mine.
The feeling tick-tick-ticks inside of me, like a countdown to an inevitable explosion. Pleasure flashes before my eyes in blinding red neon throbs.
We pump into each other, without any goddamned grace. Pace uneven and jerky and desperate. Our lips never part. I feel the vibration of his every groan, the shudder of his every heartbeat.
The timer runs out. The pleasure hits its peak. And our bodies explode into each other like dynamite.
Fire flashes in every color behind my closed eyelids as Jude’s perfect body tenses beneath mine. I grip the feeling until there’s nothing to hold onto but the aftershocks.
Mister Baller: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Sports Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 2) Page 17
