The Second Coming: Rogue Academy, Book One

by Aarons, Carrie

  I’m out, in a major city, with the boy I have a major crush on, full of fruity liquor and dancing in a mini-dress that costs more than one month of our mortgage. If this isn’t a time to celebrate, I don’t know when I’ll ever get one again.

  “Are you twirling?” Jude smirks as he catches me around the waist.

  The world takes a moment to right itself before I can answer him. “And what if I am?”

  “I’d say that it’s adorable.”

  Sucking my lower lip in, I pout. “I don’t want to be adorable. I want to be sexy.”

  Now he leans in, nipping the lobe of my ear with his teeth, and whispers, “Oh, love, you don’t need to worry about that. I’ve never seen a sexier creature in my life.”

  Well, that’s one way to get a girl between the sheets. Lord, my body erupts in goose bumps as I press myself to him. Suddenly, the fur coat he also bought me is way too warm, and I wish there weren’t a crowd of people around us. Because I feel the distinct need to be alone with Jude at this moment.

  “I got one!” Kingston yells from the street, cars narrowly missing his burly form.

  Slowing down, as not to crush Jude’s friend under its two-decker weight, a bus comes to a stop in front of England’s future left back.

  “Why aren’t his lights on?” I ask daftly.

  Jude lets his hands graze over my bum. “He’s off the clock. Watch this.”

  He winks back at me as he and Kingston saunter toward the bus.

  “You know who we are, mate?” Kingston says to the driver of the bus as the doors screech open.

  The bloke, a frumpish man who looks like he’s had a long day of work, seems as though he might have swallowed his tongue. His eyes bulge out as he takes in Jude, Kingston, and Vance, plus the assortment of a dozen other flashy partiers.

  “Um … well, of course …”

  Vance pulls out a wad of money, pound notes further than the eye can see. “We’ll give you all of this up front, plus a bonus after, if you keep your lights off, drive us around the city, allow us to play music and imbibe, all while keeping this quiet and out of the papers.”

  Wait a second …

  “We’re going to commandeer a double-decker bus for our own party?” I blink up at Jude.

  “Welcome to the posh kid’s club.” Those dazzling green eyes wink at me once more.

  Everyone piles onto the bus after Vance completes the deal with the driver, and off we go.

  The lights shut off as he winds the big double-decker around the corner of a building, and then the behemoth vehicle picks up speed, zooming by the electric energy of downtown London. I can’t help but climb to the second level and feel Jude’s hands come around my waist as he assists me up.

  The newest Beyoncé song starts to vibrate through the bus, and someone must have convinced the driver to let them hijack the sound system. As we reach the second level, several people come up behind us, handles of alcohol rattling in their fingers as they climb. Drinks start to flow, with our companions taking swigs right out of the bottle.

  I press myself into a seat at the front of the bus, staring out the window as my sloshed mind tries to keep up. I’m sitting on the edge of the world, or so it seems, with no barrier between my body and the glass.

  “Wild, isn’t it?” Jude slides in next to me.

  The colors catch his face as we drive through the city on our pirate vehicle. He’s intense and beautiful, staring at me as if I could be his last meal.

  “Nothing is ever tame when I’m with you,” I tell him truthfully, the alcohol loosening my tongue.

  And as if it isn’t loose enough, Jude bends his head to mine and makes our mouths tangle in an impassioned kiss. The kind of kiss that can only be had when drinks are involved and you’re doing something reckless.

  The way our lips stoke the fire burning deep in my belly only further flames the hellion in me.

  Making out with Jude as we race through the city in stolen transportation, a party going on all around us, is easily the most insane thing I’ve ever done.

  And if insanity has overtaken me, I am going to let it. Jude Davies makes it too addicting to be stable.

  27

  Aria

  “You lot aren’t coming to Praise?”

  Kingston asks as Jude and I enter the kitchen, still in our pajamas. Vance is sitting at the table, eating porridge and eggs, next to some brunette he brought on the bus last night, and she’s wearing an enormous T-shirt which I can only guess is his. She’s scrolling through her phone over the coffee cup pressed to her lips, as sunshine streams through the hotel suite.

  I blush thinking about the definite possibility of them having sex last night and wonder how she’ll get home this morning. I’m not completely daft, I know what a one-night stand is and how girls do walks of shame. But … I’ve been living under a rock trying to save my father’s life for almost two years and gossiping with friends about shagging has not been on the agenda. I’m just not used to this casual kind of interaction.

  “No, we’re not coming. You’ll have to worship without me … some of us played a huge match and recorded a song yesterday, and we’re knackered,” Jude answers for us.

  “Kingston … you go to church?” I’m thoroughly confused at this.

  I’m sure it’s something his parents expect of him when he’s home, but for Kingston to put on his Sunday’s best and venture into a religious building this early in the day is … well, shocking.

  The brunette at the table snickers. “Praise isn’t a church. It’s a club. Only open on Sunday mornings, from seven a.m. to noon, and it’s epic. We tagging along?”

  Her question is directed at Vance, who regards her with what I’d say is almost zero interest, but he nods anyway.

  “A club? That is only open on Sunday? Blimey, how do they make any money?” The concept of this is so foreign to me, I almost can’t believe it.

  “Because there are about a thousand people there a week, and they’re running all kinds of illegal drugs through it. Every person in the club is either high or rolling,” Kingston answers, pouring himself some orange juice.

  I watch in awe as he adds champagne to it, and I can’t fathom how these people can still be drinking, let alone thinking about going out to a club within the hour.

  “Rolling?” I look up at Jude.

  “High on ecstasy,” he answers.

  And suddenly, I’m glad he asked me back in our room if I just wanted to stay at the hotel suite for a few hours by ourselves. Yes, our room. Jude wouldn’t hear of it last night when I suggested sleeping in the fourth room in the suite. He dragged me to his bed, wrapped me in his arms, and we fell into the kind of peaceful snooze that only a lot of alcohol can bring.

  We have to go back to Clavering around three p.m., and I have been looking forward to some downtime, or maybe a nice bath in the big porcelain tub in the en suite bathroom. To hear that Praise is a place where a lot of drugs are being taken doesn’t make me feel comfortable, and I am appreciative that Jude wants to avoid it.

  I lean into him as he juts a hip onto the marble island of the hotel kitchen, loving the warmth of his shirtless skin. The soft pajama bottoms that hang low on his hips are tantalizing, and suddenly, I’m not very hungry for breakfast.

  Holding me to him, we walk in tandem to the electric kettle where he pours hot water into two mugs and places tea bags in them to steep.

  “Milk?” he asks, leaving me at the counter and walking to the fridge.

  I blush, seeing him walk around shirtless. “Yes, please. And a bit of honey.”

  Asking someone how they take their tea is such an intimate act. The fact that Jude is making mine means he wants to memorize it. That notion makes my stomach and heart flip at the exact same time.

  Behind us, Kingston snorts. “All right, you ready? Let’s get out of here before I choke on my tongue from all the dishy ridiculousness.”

  Vance clears his breakfast plates and follows Kingston out the door, with the
girl right on their heels. The two of them don’t even ask as if they care if she accompanies them, and I roll my eyes at their disinterest.

  And then it’s just Jude and me, alone in this big hotel suite.

  “Hungry?” he asks me.

  Why can he only seem to speak in one-word sentences this morning?

  I shrug, the air between us growing heavier with electricity by the second. We shared a bed all last night, and yet both of us had an unspoken agreement that nothing should happen. We were pissed, tired, and mentally exhausted from the debauchery of the night. While it was impossible not to feel along the silky crevices of Jude’s ab muscles as he held me close, there had been some trepidation. I know I’m was ready to sleep with him, but not when something was altering my mind.

  “I could eat.” I throw it out to gauge is mood.

  Something about Jude makes me want to abandon all of my principles. I’m not the type of girl who would have sex with a boy she’s only known a few months, much less in broad daylight in a fancy hotel suite. I’m also not the type of girl who’d leave her sick father at home to go gallivanting in London and get sloshed on a double-decker that said boy basically hijacked. Yet, here I am.

  My heart begins to beat double time as Jude strides toward me, closing the small gap between us. Every ounce of saliva in my mouth disappears as his bare chest and arms press my body into them, and my knees are trembling I am so nervous.

  Looking up into his blazing green eyes, I speak the thought that’s overwhelming me. “Jude … I know that you know I’m not a virgin. But, I’m also not … as experienced as you.”

  One big hand comes up to palm my cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth on the bone there. “Good. Because when I take you into that bedroom, I want to leave my mark on your body, and your mind. One you’ll never be able to scrub off. You’ll never be able to forget the first time we came together.”

  Now, instead of worrying about his past trysts, all I can see is red. Warm, hot, pulsing, the color of passion and hearts and sin. Jude paints my world in it, and all of my anxiety is replaced by scarlet arousal.

  Taking my hand in his, Jude leads me back to the bedroom we shared the night before. The shades and curtains are still drawn, with muted light falling onto the carpeted floor and bed. It’s the perfect Sunday morning hue, and the tightening between my legs trumps any self-conscious thoughts about getting naked in front of him without all the lights off.

  Jude sits down on the edge of the bed, his legs spread lazily, his naked chest dancing in front of my eyes, begging to be explored. Still grasping my fingers in his, he drags me gently to nestle in his thighs and put my hand on that perfect torso.

  There are no questions in his eyes or on his tongue, and I remember that he said he wouldn’t ask me if I was sure. I know that once we start this, he won’t stop. He knows, just by gazing at me, that I am ready and don’t need to be checked upon like a child.

  My fingertips trail over every inch of muscle and raw maleness, tangling gently in the smattering of jet black hair that disappears below the waistband of his pajama pants. The place where ego lives in my chest swells with pride when a groan springs free of his lips as one of my thumbs hooks in the elastic of the flannel.

  “Not just yet,” Jude murmurs to himself before pulling me in and crushing our lips together.

  Falling backward onto the mattress, he pulls me with him so I have no choice but to straddle his waist as his tongue invades my mouth. In long, slow kisses, Jude coaxes the fire he started within me to rage and burn at an impossible level. After only a minute or two, I am writhing on top of him, grinding myself into the erection pressing into the most sensitive part of me.

  Skillfully, Jude pulls my top over my head, my moan echoing between us like a relieved thank you. The simple sports bra I’d donned beneath comes off next, and my nipples harden to tight peaks with anticipatory longing.

  “So gorgeous …” Jude trails off, turning all of his attention to the objects of affection dangling in front of his face.

  It’s all I can do to keep myself upright and my elbows locked as he takes each rigid bud in his mouth. As his tongue traces the trail of his saliva over my breasts, I am rendered helpless, mewling on top of him as my head tips back and I rub back and forth on his steel arousal.

  “Pants … off …” I can’t even form a sentence as I beg him for relief.

  It has been so long since I’ve been touched like this, and never in my life has it been this deftly. Jude knows secrets about my body that even I don’t, and my one and only experience with sex had been a fumbling attempt with puppy love folded into it. I almost forgot how to be physical with a boy, because it has been years.

  Jude is catching me right back up to speed and surpassing all the fantasies I had about him leading up to this. Flipping me over, he tosses me up the bed, at the top near the pillows, like I weigh two kilograms. Following me as I scoot back, the man looks like some kind of natural-born predator about to take a bite out of his prey.

  His eyes are blazing a dark shade of emerald that don’t seem fair to possess. All of that dark hair on his head is mussed and crazed, and all I want to do is tangle my hands back in it. Those big hands grip my ankle, and then my thigh, reaching for the hem of my sleep shorts and pulling them off in one fell swoop.

  The only thing that stands between me and complete nakedness is the simple cotton underwear I’m still wearing.

  Jude curses under his breath as he takes me in. “You may not be a virgin, but bloody hell are you virginal. I can’t wait to defile that.”

  They’re filthy, his words, and I shock myself realizing that everything below my waist flushes at them. Who knew I’d be so turned on by dirty language, but for some reason, the sentiments Jude is growling out make me wetter than I’ve ever been before.

  In a split second, my underwear is off, joining the rest of my clothes on the floor. Jude sucks in a ragged breath as my own lungs struggle to keep functioning. The molten lust in his eyes would knock me off my feet if I weren’t already lying down, and when he begins to lower himself to the apex of my thighs, my consciousness threatens to give out.

  With a testing swipe of his tongue across my most private parts, Jude smiles a devilish grin up at my wide eyes. “The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  And then, he feasts on me.

  His mouth and tongue do things to my anatomy that I’ve never even heard of before. I can do little more than grip the sheets and cry out with pleasure. No one has ever done this to me before, and I squeeze my eyes shut as sensations assault me.

  Tighter and tighter, the coil within me twists until I’m almost blind with the need for release. Sensing it, Jude stops, and I whine my protest.

  “Easy, love. I want you to come around my cock,” he soothes, removing his pants and briefs in one effortless move.

  I’m stunned as I look at the size of him. I’ve popped my cherry, but I’m not sure he’ll fit with how large he is and how long it’s been. Without having a conversation about it, Jude grabs a condom from a bag on the floor and rolls it on, hissing as he pinches the tip.

  My legs spread instinctively as he joins me again in the center of the bed, and I’m so wet between my thighs that I can’t stop rolling my hips in search of relief.

  “Has a man ever made you come before?” he asks in a deadly quiet whisper as he lines himself up to my entrance.

  I shake my head, too wound up with nerves and a split second away from an orgasm to speak.

  “Good. I want to be the one to give that to you.”

  Jude drives into me in a fluid stroke, seating himself deeply. The pain and pleasure mix and I throw my head back into the pillows. There are no more words between us, just moans and the sounds of slapping flesh. Sex noises, the kind that are animalistic and primal.

  My hands grip his back as he invades me, pushing in over and over again with torturous speed. Slow enough that I feel every ridge of his huge organ against my folds, but fast enoug
h that I can’t catch my breath.

  When I lost my virginity, and the couple of times my secondary school boyfriend and I had sex after that, I hadn’t experienced an orgasm. I’ve only ever given them to myself a handful of times, the result of living in a small row home held together by paper-thin walls, with my father not to mention.

  I’ve never experienced a climax at the hands of a partner. It’s the second to last thought that occupies my brain before Jude strokes in deep, the blunt pad of his thumb pressing sharply against my clit.

  And then I am floating, high up in the clouds where my limbs feel every nerve ending imaginable and my brain goes numb. This feeling, this pure bliss that only vibrates out to every cell as Jude pounds into me, is unlike any other I’ve felt before.

  I register Jude stilling as a tremendous growl rips from his throat, and he buries his face in my neck. Inside me, his member twitches and I know he’s joining me in my stages of euphoria.

  As the effects wind down, and my mind settles into the post-coital haze, the last thought before my orgasm hits me once more.

  Jude is the only man I ever want to make me feel this way.

  28

  Jude

  My mind is blown.

  Utterly and completely destroyed.

  Even hours after I’d been forced to leave the bed where Aria lay naked, I can’t seem to assemble my jumbled thoughts.

  The smell of her lingered on me even as I drove to the location Barry insisted I meet him. My mind got lost thinking about how I’d explored every inch of Aria’s body, and the ways she enchanted my heart.

  It’s true, I’ve been with plenty of women before her. She even said as much when that shy, innocent face was trying to convey explicitly how inexperienced she is.