“Turn over, Cory.” His voice sounded low and gravelly and when I looked into his face, I saw so many conflicting emotions there. I couldn’t pinpoint any one of them, except maybe affection and lust.
I propped my elbows on the cushion and then flipped myself over. “Is there a part two in this magic remedy?”
His hip was now touching mine and my shirt was partially lifted over my abs. His gaze swept over my skin and then to the front of my pants, which tented painfully. Now that my hands were no longer at an awkward angle, I couldn’t help touching him. I slid my fingers to his knee. “Thanks for taking care of me again.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that how you see me? As a caretaker?”
“Docs are caretakers,” I said smugly. “Figured that was your thing.”
“Only with you,” he leaned down and whispered.
“Nice to hear.” Heat climbed it way up my neck to my cheeks. “Bet your mom would’ve said you were. It’s in your nature.”
His eyes became glassy and his fingers reached out to grasp at mine so that now, he was holding my hand. It felt so fucking perfect.
“Guess so,” he said, looking away as if embarrassed. “The next thing that I’m going to have you do is to slip these tennis balls beneath your back. It creates a pressure point.”
“So I’m supposed to lay on them,” I said, my thumb absently gliding over his knuckle as if holding on to him was the most natural thing in the world.
“You could also do this up against a wall, I suppose,” he said, looking over my shoulder. “But I kind of like having you defenseless like this.”
“Yeah?” I said. “Why is that?”
He placed the tennis balls beneath my back and I adjusted my position over them. I could feel my muscles stretching but I was more interested in keeping Jude talking.
“Because you have a hard time not moving around. Same thing with zipping your lip,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
“Now who’s being a cheeky bastard?” I said and he laughed. “So you like holding me hostage?”
“I do.” His gaze ensnared mine and it was like we couldn’t look away from each other without some effort. “You’ve been a good little prisoner.”
“I think I’ve done really well putting up with all your silence.” I smirked and then grew serious. “I’ve been able to live in all that quiet a little better lately.”
His eyes turned to a dazzling liquid jade and I could’ve swum in them eternally.
“How do your muscles feel?” he asked, adjusting his fingers.
I hummed. “Relieved.”
He reached under and pulled the line of tennis balls from beneath my back. “Enough stretching for one night.”
I could’ve gotten up at that point, but I didn’t want to for anything. It felt so good lying there with my pain temporarily abated and as reprieve ballooned in my chest, I shut my eyes, nearly growing drowsy.
I felt Jude’s arm inch forward and something urged me to stay still no matter how much I wanted to reach for him. I kept my eyes closed as his warm breath fanned across my chin.
My cap was tugged from my head and then his fingers burrowed in my hair. It felt so amazing, I could’ve groaned out loud. But I remained motionless because I didn’t want to ruin the moment.
I blinked open my eyes and his face was so close that I could practically taste his minty breath on my lips. I didn’t dare inhale as he studied the line of my lips, the curve of my neck. The tips of his fingers hovered over my eyebrow, and his knuckles grazed my cheek.
His lips slipped dangerously close to mine. I couldn’t risk frightening him away, even as my heart was clawing its way out of my chest. I begged and pleaded and prayed that he’d slant his mouth across mine.
Instead he ghosted his lips directly above, mere centimeters away, as if we were mirror images. And as he stared into my eyes while hovering over me, I was gone. Dead. Dying of hunger. Thirst. To finally sip from his lips, taste from his tongue.
His lips changed course by glided to my cheek and then dragging to my ear. His breath was hot and I moaned, unable to contain my longing any further. I swallowed in large gulps as my hands fisted and trembled.
His fingers travelled to my pants, palming my erection, and I let out a harsh breath. In one swift move he unbuttoned my jeans and tugged down the zipper, allowing my engorged cock freedom from the tight confines of my pants.
“Jude,” I said in a labored voice.
“I never got to finish at the quarry.”
He tugged my jeans down and gripped my erection through my underwear. “Oh fuck.”
His knees sank to the floor and he positioned his shoulders between my legs. What the hell was he doing?
And then his hot mouth enveloped my dick straight through the material of my briefs and I nearly burst through my skin. His lips were soft and full and holy shit, I was already on the brink.
My fingers reached for his hair. His dreads were coarse and stiff, a direct contrast to his soothing and forgiving mouth.
He moved his lips away and his hands reached for my waistband, yanking the material down my legs.
“Jude you don’t have to—”
“You have an amazing cock.”
Before I could respond, his lips engulfed the tip and the air departed my lungs. For a guy who claimed he hadn’t been with anybody in a long while, he certainly remembered what to do.
I let out a long hum. His tongue found the slit, brushed across it, and my hips arched off the couch. If his tongue felt like that on my cock, then what would it feel like in my mouth?
His lips suctioned my head and I squirmed, prodding inside his mouth so that I hit the back of his throat.
“I think I found just the thing to shut you up,” he murmured as he licked me from root to crown, more than likely tasting the growing desperation in my thrusts.
I let out a muffled laugh. “If I learned how to close my mouth I’d never get anything out of you . . .” A low growl emitted from my throat as he licked and sucked and nuzzled, his tongue circling and dragging lengthwise across my most sensitive vein. The sensation was completely overwhelming, as pinpricks of heat twined along my skin.
I could feel him smile around my girth. “I didn’t take you for a quiet moaner.”
“Quiet or not,” I said gasping, my fingers clutching his head. “You keep doing what you’re doing and I won’t last.”
“Good. I want to make you come,” he said, his lips bathing the slit again. “I want to taste you on my tongue.”
And that sentence in his British accent did fucking amazing things to my groin. I could feel the pyrotechnics building in my balls as they tightened and lifted.
There was a tingle in my spine that had nothing to do with tennis ball therapy, and my legs felt mind-numbingly weightless.
I knew I was about to blow.
“Jude, if you don’t move . . .”
But he sucked me deeper and swallowed me whole. And I fucking came down his throat.
My release went on for minutes or hours and I collapsed against the couch, breathing heavily and completely spent.
He laid his head atop my abdomen, looking smug and gratified. My fingers slipped across his gorgeous lips. “Goddamn, Jude. That mouth is amazing.”
Right then we heard a noise outside the door. It was probably just somebody walking by the bar that had tripped over a trash can. But it was all it took to snap Jude back to reality.
“We need to go,” he said, springing up.
Jude walked to the front of the store and I hastily followed behind buttoning up my jeans. He searched in all directions out the window as I pulled my cap back over my head.
“You think he’s out there somewhere?” I asked. “Is that what this is about?”
“You should leave,” he said quietly, urging me with his eyes.
And then I got it. He was definitely trying to keep me safe, even if he wasn’t directly saying how or why. Obviously this guy was dangerous. Fuck.
“Jude
.”
He didn’t answer, merely stepped to the back door.
When I caught up to him, I pulled him against me, my fingers gripping the front his shirt.
“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear and he sucked in a shallow breath.
When I emerged to the lot, Smoke was on his bike near the bar’s back entrance. Though I felt uneasy, I didn’t feel scared, and that in itself was alarming to me. The Disciples might be intimidating but I didn’t feel like they were out to hurt Jude or me. Not unless I hurt them first and I sure as hell wasn’t planning on it.
I have nothing to hide, I reminded myself as I strode to the side street where my bike was parked. I lifted my helmet to my head, just as Smoke came roaring by. When I looked up, he tipped his chin toward me.
Chapter Twenty
“You seem distracted, darling,” Grandma said while pouring some of her peach tea in a tall glass. “Who is he?”
I rushed my hand over my face. Somehow she always knew.
“I haven’t seen you this bad in a long time,” she said, a smile pulling at her lips.
“Yeah?” I said. “How long?”
She thought about it a moment. “I think you know as well as I do what my answer is going to be.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” I said, sipping the sweet concoction. “But this time, it’s way more complicated.”
“Talk to me, darling.” She sat down and pulled out her deck of cards. She always played solitaire at the kitchen table. She said it helped get her thoughts organized.
My grandmother had always been the one person I sought out for heart-to-hearts. She was also the first person I came out to as a teenager. I just knew she’d understand. She always gave good advice and I figured I had nothing to lose.
“There’s this guy who came into town a few months ago.” I took a deep breath. “He works at the Board Room and skates at the park.”
Grandma’s eyebrows lifted. “Jude York?”
“How did you—” I stopped myself. Stupid question. Not only did those ladies get together for their weekly game of cards but they knew all the town’s gossip as well.
“Anyway,” I said and she smiled. “He’s been coming into the shop. I’m inking a large tattoo on his back so it’ll take a few appointments to finish.”
“And you like him more with each visit,” she said.
“Something like that,” I said, pausing. “It was a struggle to get him to talk at the beginning, still is.”
“Do you think he feels the same way about you?” she asked, looking down at her row of cards.
I shrugged. Then I decided I needed to tell somebody. Or I would lose my mind.
“Thing is, his past seems pretty messy and I’m not sure what his story is. I’m afraid I’m in over my head.”
She looked at me thoughtfully. No judgment. No fear. “He does seem to have plenty of rumors swirling around him.”
I nearly choked on my tea. “Guess you’ve heard all of that stuff, too.”
“Take the time to understand Jude. And maybe give him the benefit of the doubt,” she said, patting my hand. “Sometimes things aren’t always as they seem. Just . . . be careful, especially with your heart.”
“I will,” I said.
***
It was Thursday night, so after visiting with my grandmother, I met the Raw Ink crew up at Zach’s Bar. I only considered heading to the Hog’s Den for a split second before giving up on the idea. Besides, I needed to connect with my friends.
Keeping my distance from the MC was the right decision even though it was killing me to figure out what had Jude so freaked. But it was like coming upon a locked door time and again with no solid way inside.
Besides, I didn’t want the Disciples to think I was heading to the bar for the wrong reasons. At least I thought my logic was valid. It had become so twisted in my brain that I couldn’t even think straight.
“Hey, man,” Dex said, and I could already tell he was a pitcher deep.
“Good to see you,” Jessie’s boyfriend, Nate, said. I settled into a seat across from them. Emmy was nursing a drink next to me and gave me a small smile.
“You seem off lately,” Jessie said after scrutinizing me across the table. “You okay?”
God, what was with everybody? Couldn’t I be a little more quiet and introspective without people getting on my case?
“Yeah, sure,” I said.
“Still having issues with your back?” Jessie asked.
“Actually, it’s been better the last couple of days.” I thought about Jude and the tennis balls and tried hard to hide my smile. “But still think I’ll call the holistic center.”
Jessie nodded. “They’ll hook you up. They have plenty of patients with messed-up spines.”
“Why do you have problems anyway, bro?” Bennett asked. “Something happen to your back?”
“From his accident,” Dex slurred into his beer and I stiffened. I probably should’ve guessed the day would come when he’d blurt shit out about me.
For the life of me I couldn’t get my mouth unstuck, so I just narrowed my eyes at him. He was oblivious, though, and when Bennett continued to look confused he said, “It happened before we came to work at Raw Ink. His boyfriend, he . . .”
Even in a drunken state it was difficult to say the words, apparently. His gaze swung to mine and right away he realized his mistake. “Fuck, Cory, sorry. Can’t take my drunk ass anywhere.”
The whole table grew silent as if they knew this was something big. But things felt different now. I was different. So I just shrugged and let it out. Besides these guys were like an extension of my family, I should’ve told them a long time ago. “Nah, it’s cool, man. It was a motorcycle accident. My boyfriend at the time . . .”
“The love of his life,” Dex mumbled and his beer spilled down his shirt. Dumb fuck.
“David,” I said, his name rolling off my tongue. It sliced my gut a little less this time. “He died.”
Emmy gasped and immediately threw an arm around me. “Cory, we didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
Jessie looked stricken and she reached out her hand.
“It was over three years ago, guys,” I said, eyeing each one of my friends. “But thanks.”
Bennett’s eyes softened. “So your back hasn’t hurt since then?”
“It has, just not like this,” I said. “But it’s all cool.”
I could tell they all had more questions but I had shared enough for tonight.
“Who’s up for a game of flip cup?” I said with a goofy grin on my face and everybody laughed.
Jessie shook her head. “Guess your back isn’t that sore.”
I had always played the role of the jokester in this dysfunctional family, but I didn’t think I could pull it off anymore. It was no longer effective anyway. Maybe it never was. The only benefit has been warding off dealing with my feelings for a short period of time.
But now everything seemed to mean more, weigh more. Like a heavy blanket that doused the light, but still created warmth.
After one round of that idiotic game, I noticed Emmy fidgeting next to me.
I nudged her and arched my eyebrows. Her gaze darted toward the door and I saw Tristan from the shelter enter the bar. He looked around anxiously so I lifted my hand and motioned for him to join us. Emmy smiled appreciatively at me.
“Hey, dude, glad you could come.” I gave up my seat so Tristan could sit near Emmy. She introduced him to the gang and I ordered him a beer.
After a while he seemed to settle in and I heard the two of them talking about classes and animal rights shit—in that regard, they were the perfect fit.
Jessie kept flashing me goofy grins because of how much Emmy was blushing. We were on the same page about another thing: If Tristan hurt her he’d better hide his ass, because we had a whole crew willing to take him out.
After a while, Emmy snapped out of her Tristan bubble and grinned at me. “Have you been trying that technique with C
hopper?”
“What technique?” Dex asked, before I could shake my head to swear Emmy off the topic.
I wanted to pound Dex good tonight. But what did it matter anyway. Jude was only a friend. A friend who’d given me the most erotic blow job of my life. And whose lips I would’ve died to have anywhere on me again.
If only he wasn’t so afraid to allow anybody to get too close.
“Cory didn’t tell you?” Emmy said and I knocked her leg beneath the table. When she threw me a clueless look, I decided to be the one to explain.
“No big thing. Chopper was being a pain in the ass the other day at the new park, getting aggressive with the other dogs.”
“Actually he was trying to dominate Patch,” Emmy said.
“Patch from the shelter?” Tristan asked and then looked at Emmy. “Your Patch?”
Her eyes practically melted and I looked away from their moment. Too sugary sweet.
“He won’t be mine for long,” she said, pouting. There had been a pre-visit with a new family this week, but I didn’t have a good feeling about them, either.
“So what’s this about a technique?” Tristan asked.
“So Jude York hopped over the fence from the skate park and saved the day,” Emmy said, transporting me back to that moment when Jude had scaled the railing. His instincts had been innate and I could almost picture him on that farm. Almost. It didn’t exactly jibe with his city-boy skateboard persona. Confusing.
The whole table grew silent and stared at us.
“What am I missing?” I heard Tristan lean over and ask Emmy. Seems not everybody was in on the town gossip.
“Jude York?” Nate said. “Emo skater dude?”
Jessie burst out laughing and I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Oh here we go,” Dex said into his beer, remembering all too well how I snapped at him a couple of weeks back.
“He’s not emo,” I said, and I realized how defensive I sounded, so I toned it down. “He’s just quiet.”
“Does he talk in your sessions?” Bennett asked and I shrugged. I could tell he was just curious but it felt difficult to explain.
“Or do you talk his goddamn ear off?” Dex said, smirking. “Because dude, you can talk.”
There You Stand Page 12
