by Chelle Bliss
“I’ve missed you,” I mutter against her mouth, barely taking a breath before I cover her lips with mine again.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, holding her mouth to mine as her tongue tangles with mine. Our hands move feverishly against each other, needing and wanting the connection. I’m almost breathless when she finally pulls away.
“Hey,” she whispers and rests her forehead against mine.
“Hey yourself.” I breathe her in, relishing the smell and feel of my wife after so many days.
“I wanna talk before we get lost in bliss for the next however many hours I have you.”
My gaze never wavers from her as she speaks. The last thing I want to do is talk, especially when it involves a topic that may lead to another fight. If she didn’t think it was going to be an issue, she would’ve waited to bring it up. That much I know about my wife.
I carry her to the bed, still wrapped around my body, and sit on the edge. She straddles my legs, fidgeting with the ends of my hair near my neck.
“So, talk,” I tell her, slipping my fingers under the hem of her dress shirt and stroking the soft skin near her waist.
“Before we go any further, I really want to take this job.”
“Okay.” I slide my hands up her back, toying with the dip of her spine as she shivers in my arms.
“The good thing is, I don’t have to be in Washington as much.”
“That’s a bonus.”
Earlier, when I was only a senator, Reagan being in Washington was great. Now, I’m barely there, but that hasn’t cut down on her trips to the city. More than anything, I want more time with my wife. There’s a fine line, though. She needs to work, and somehow, I need to learn to accept her absence even if it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“So, you’ll be home more?” I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her response.
She bites her lip and lowers her gaze. “Well, not exactly.”
I take a deep breath, knowing she’s about to tell me things I don’t want to hear. “Go on.”
“Well,” she says as her fingernails trace my shoulder blades, sending goose bumps across my skin. “Andrea needs help. She wants someone she trusts and is reliable to help take some of the workload off her shoulders.”
I close my eyes and bury my face in the crook of my wife’s neck as she continues talking.
“It’ll require more short trips, but I’ll be able to be home more than before.”
“How many trips?” I ask, pressing my lips to her neck near her collarbone.
“One a week at least.”
I pull my lips away from her skin and lean back, staring into the eyes of my wife. “You’re going to be gone every week?”
The realization of what that means hits me as I repeat the words back to her. As it is, Reagan travels once or twice a month to DC, but she’s gone for a week at a time.
“Well, yeah, but they’ll be short.”
That’s always the promise at first. I’ll only be gone a few days. But days turn into weeks, and time slips away as the hours and workload become more demanding.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
She pushes against my chest, sliding backward off my lap as I try to hold on to her. “Excuse me?” she asks, folding her arms in front of her chest as she stands in front of me, looking down with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t say that to you when you said you wanted to be the governor.”
“Baby,” I say, reaching out and trying to wrap my arms around her again, but she steps backward. My muscles tighten and my agitation swells. “I didn’t make the decision to run for governor by myself. We made it together.”
“But I didn’t stop you.”
“I know, but if you had any objections, I wouldn’t have entered the race.”
“Bullshit.” She pulls at her hair and starts to pace. “You were going to do whatever you wanted, even if I didn’t like it.”
“That’s not true.” I believe the words as I speak them, but if she had said no, I’m not sure exactly what I would’ve done. I’d like to think I would’ve done whatever necessary to keep my wife happy and maintain my career. But would I have gone against her wishes if it was my biggest dream? “This next year is supposed to be about us, Reagan. About starting a family.”
“You want me barefoot and pregnant, don’t you? Forget about my job and dreams as long as I’m popping out babies for you?”
My body jerks back as she grows angrier. There’s a fire in her I haven’t seen in a while.
“Don’t make me sound like a macho pig. I just want my wife back.”
“Why don’t you give up the race and join me on the road? We could see the world together.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. My work is important.”
She points her finger at me with her lips set in a straight line. “That right there is the problem.”
Fuck, I wish I could take every word back and stop the shitstorm that has already started to brew in this room like an out-of-control hurricane barreling right for us.
I fucked up. I said the wrong thing, and I now I have to do everything in my power to make that shit right.
“Reagan,” I say as she turns her back to me. “Baby, come on.” I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my lips to her neck. “I don’t want to fight.”
She turns her face, looking at me over her shoulder. “I’m taking the fucking job, Jude, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
11
Reagan
The air in the room goes still for a few seconds. I can feel Jude’s chest moving in and out against my back as he breathes.
I’m surprised he hasn’t fired off a comeback yet—he’s usually quick on the draw when we’re fighting.
He sighs deeply, his hot breath against the skin of my neck sending a tingle down my spine.
“This doesn’t need to be decided this instant,” he finally says, tightening his hold on me. “We talked about me running for governor for months before deciding.”
He takes me by the shoulders and turns me to face him, cupping my cheek in one of his massive hands.
“Tonight, let’s celebrate the offer and not get out in front of the headlights. Let’s just be a husband and wife savoring our time together, okay?”
He knows how to defuse tension when he wants to. It’s not just his carefully chosen words that soothe me, but his deep, sexy tone and the way his other hand is cupping my ass.
Without using words, Jude’s telling me we’ve got better things to do tonight than argue. Half of me wants to give in, and half of me wants to tell him he can’t distract me with his sex appeal.
“If I want to take this job, I will,” I say firmly. “You’re not going to fuck me into compliance.”
His eyes darken, and the corners of his lips twitch. “Says who?”
“I’m not your little woman,” I remind him.
Jude’s expression turns serious again. “I never said you were, love. You’re so much more than that. You’re my sun, moon, and stars. My whole world. You know that.”
“Then show me. Support me.”
He traces his index finger across my jawline. “I do support you, Ray. But I also need you. I can’t hire anyone to take your place in my life. If I make it to the governor’s mansion, it won’t mean shit if you’re not there with me. We’re a team.”
I sigh softly. “I know. I haven’t gotten the details on this job yet, though, so I’m not ready to say no.”
“I understand. As long as you aren’t ready to say yes, either.”
“Not right now,” I concede. “But I’m very interested, and if it’s what I’m hoping, I will want to say yes.”
He looks up at the ceiling for an instant, seeming to summon divine intervention.
“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says.
“Uh-huh. After you’ve gotten off a few times and you’re feeling less tense?”
He arches a brow. “I was thinking the same fo
r you, babe.”
“A few times, though?” I give him a mock skeptical look. “You think you can make that happen?”
“Oh, little girl.” His laugh is low and sexy. “I’m gonna make you so sorry you said that.”
He rests his hand on my throat, his thumb stroking my jaw as he kisses me. He’s soft and gentle at first, but when I moan into his mouth, he slides his hand down to my breast and squeezes it as his other arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against him.
His mouth is hot and hungry against mine, like he’s trying to make up for all the kisses we’ve missed giving each other in our time apart.
I force myself to pull away from him, licking my lips as I step back and say, “Too bad we don’t have the ropes.”
“That is a shame, isn’t it?” He steps forward and puts his hands around my hips, his eyes swimming with desire as he looks down at me. “You could use a night tied to the bed with your ass in the air.”
“Maybe next time.” I put my hands on his hard, broad shoulders, squeezing the muscles there.
“Maybe this time.” He nods over at the king-size bed where the red nylon ropes stand out against the white bedspread.
A thousand butterflies flap their wings wildly in my stomach. Just the sight of those ropes makes my body respond. I’m warm all over, and I get even warmer when Jude walks over to the bed and picks up the ropes.
Seeing his big, powerful hands holding the restraints reminds me why I’m so turned on by this game we play. I have to trust him completely to let myself be tied up and left helpless. Before Jude, I never trusted any man that way.
But Jude never disappoints me. He pushes our game to the edge of my comfort zone, but never steps past it.
“I could take a nice, long shower first.” I glance at the bathroom. “Or soak in the tub for an hour or so.”
He shakes his head. “Come here.”
I swallow hard, every nerve in my body dancing with awareness as I slip out of my heels and walk over to him.
When I’m right next to him, he turns me around gently, laying my long, dark hair over one of my shoulders to expose the zipper on the simple black dress I’m wearing.
I don’t just hear the sliding down of the zipper, I feel it. Cool air hits my bare skin, dancing down my back as Jude unzips the dress almost to my waist.
Then his warm hand slides over my shoulder as he slips the dress off of me. It pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my lacy red bra and panties.
“One of my favorites,” he murmurs, dipping his face to my neck.
His lips are tender as they caress the skin of my neck, his tongue barely grazing my collarbone. My breath comes out in a shaky exhale, all the stress and excitement of the past few days of work melting away.
I can’t think about anything but Jude right now. It’s nights like this, where he owns me, that I’m free to just feel. No thinking. No power plays. No worries about the future. I just give in to the sensations of now, which always threaten to overwhelm me.
“On your back.” He speaks into my ear, his tone deep and insistent.
I oblige, feeling powerful as his gaze sweeps over me. Jude would fall to his knees for me if he needed to. He’d walk through fire, slay any dragon, for the sake of our marriage. I know this without a doubt, and that’s why I regularly fall to my knees for him.
“I need this so fucking bad,” he says as he winds the thin nylon rope around my wrists, binding them together. “You’ve made me horny as hell with those late-night phone calls.”
He ties my wrists to the bed’s headboard, and then slides out of the bed, giving me a wolfish smile.
“Spread your legs wide for me, baby.”
I do, and he carefully wraps a rope around each of my legs above the ankle, then ties those ropes to the metal bed frame beneath the bed.
I’m breathing hard as he stands up and looks at me.
“You drive me to the edge of sanity, Reagan Titan. I didn’t think there was any person I couldn’t live without until I met you.”
“I could say the same for you.”
“You probably shouldn’t, though, since you’re the one tied up.”
He slips his T-shirt off over his head and tosses it to the floor, climbing back onto the bed. Then he leans down to my stomach, his lips grazing over my skin so feather-soft I moan and hold in my breath.
Jude is a patient man, and he takes his time covering every inch of my skin with his mouth. He kisses and caresses with his lips and his breath.
I’m so turned on I’m panting and writhing, twisting against the ropes binding me. It’s bliss and agony at the same time.
When he gets out of the bed and stands next to it, his hands slowly pulling his short down, I bite my lip and force myself to stay silent. His lips quirk with a smile.
“It’s hard for you, isn’t it love?” he says in a teasing tone. “You want to tell me to hurry the fuck up and give you my cock, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I admit, staring as his shorts fall to the floor, followed by his boxer briefs.
My husband is nothing short of glorious naked. He’s hard in every possible way. When he wraps his hand around his shaft and strokes it, I groan in frustration.
“Feels so fucking good.” He returns to the bed, on his knees beside me.
All I can do is look up helplessly, my body screaming with arousal, as he strokes himself all the way up and down right next to me.
“I should come on your tits and leave you like this all night,” he says in a low growl. “Just to remind you who’s boss.”
“Jude…no.”
He shakes his head and strokes himself faster, groaning with pleasure. “Wrong answer, sweetheart. When we’re in bed, there’s only one word you need. What is it?”
“Yes.” I spit the word out quickly, desperate for him to stop touching himself. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He smiles and slows his pace. “That’s right.”
When his free hand slides between my legs, stroking me through the lace of my panties, I moan loudly and arch my back.
“You want me right here, don’t you?” he says in a low tone. “Buried in your pussy.”
“Yes. God, yes.”
“Can’t get your panties off, though, with the ropes.” He shrugs and returns to stroking himself. “And I need to come now.”
“Jude!” I pull against the ropes, my arms and legs rising a couple inches off the bed.
“All right, baby.” He climbs between my legs. “I’ll give your cock-starved pussy what it needs.”
He reaches both hands toward my panties, and I feel the lace ripping as he shreds it. Two seconds later, he’s inside me, groaning as he sinks every inch in.
His mouth covers mine as he fucks me, kissing me with both reverence and lust. One of his hands wraps around the headboard, and the other cups my cheek as he pounds into me.
Nothing turns me on like being completely at his mercy this way. He’s relentless, never slowing down or asking if it’s too hard.
Because he knows. After five years of marriage, he knows I love being fucked with everything he’s got. And he gives it to me, his expression strained as he holds back when I start to come.
He always makes sure I don’t just come, but come long and hard, before he lets himself. Only when I’m giving him a blow job does he let himself come when he wants to.
I yell his name several times and tell him not to stop, though I know he won’t. His teeth sink into my shoulder, making me come even harder.
And finally, when he feels me coming down, he slams into me with all his strength and holds himself there, groaning against my ear as he comes.
He takes a couple seconds just to breathe before kissing me softly. We’re both panting and sweaty.
“That was intense,” I say softly.
“Yeah.” He kisses my brow. My cheeks. My nose. “And much better than fighting, don’t you think?”
I laugh as he reaches up to untie my hands.
“Yes. B
ut it’s your fault we were fighting, so you should have this conversation with yourself.”
He looks down at me. “In the morning, Ray. Tonight, I just want to fall asleep with my wife in my arms. For once.”
“Oh, poor Jude Titan.” When he frees my first wrist, I reach up and touch his scruffy cheek. “With a wife who doesn’t give him his way every time.”
He shakes his head as he frees my other wrist. “Don’t be surprised if you get woken up by my hand smacking your ass.”
I lean up and kiss him. “Don’t be surprised if I enjoy it.”
He finishes untying me, and I slip into his T-shirt and crawl into bed, snuggling against him.
“Tyson better not come into this room in the morning,” I say. “I’ll lose my shit if he does.”
Jude kisses my forehead. “He’s not coming in here, love. He knows better than that.”
“I hope so.”
“I told my staff that any man who sees you without clothes on, inadvertently or not, will be dick-punched and fired.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely serious. They can come in and out of my room when I’m alone, but not when you’re here.”
I close my eyes and settle against his warm, solid chest. “I love you, Jude.”
“I love you too.”
After a few seconds of silence, I say, “I think I should take the job.”
“Go to sleep, Reagan,” he growls.
I try to, but it takes me a while, because I’ve got a bad feeling about the conversation we’re going to have in the morning.
12
Jude
I sip my coffee at the small table near the window as Reagan sleeps. She looks so peaceful stretched out across the bed, the sheets tangled around her body as she snores softly. A few times I reached out, ready to wake her, but I let her be. We seem to fight more than anything else anymore, and I’m not ready for a battle at seven in the morning.
I’ve gone over her job offer a million times in my head. I’m not happy about the entire thing, but she’s my wife, and if she’s excited, I should be too. I’m greedy, though. I want Reagan at my side and in my bed every night. I don’t want her traveling around the world, gone for weeks at a time because Andrea wants time off.
