by Stacey Lynn
“So you proved her wrong by quitting?”
“And staying her friend. She’s crazy smart with a hilarious, sassy attitude. Tara is now engaged to some guy and he had two girls of his own so she has this new, awesome family, and they’re out in Wicker Park instead of their bad place before. She’s doing good, but we still talk, see each other every few months. She’s like the sister I never had.”
“And you loved their family because you got to give them what you never had.”
It’s a guess, but I know I’m not too far off when her eyes fill with tears. She runs her pink-painted fingernail over Nora’s smiling face.
She looks at me, tears in her eyes with her chin wobbling. “I always wanted someone who could stand up for me and help me, I guess.”
She’s so vulnerable. Smiling through her tears and her sadness that the final shred of my self-control snaps.
My hand is at her hair and I bring her to me, kissing her softly as she sniffs away tears.
“I’m crying,” she whispers against my mouth.
“I’ll kiss away the tears, Katie.”
She huffs a laugh again and I press my mouth more firmly to hers. She’s so damn beautiful and strong and scared and I want all of her emotions and fears as well as her heart to help others. There’s something so undeniably sexy about her, so beautiful about this woman who would give so much to others because she knows exactly what it’s like to have so little.
And I want all the parts of her.
I cup her cheeks with my hands and I brush away her tears with my thumbs, sliding my tongue along her lips, hinting at what I want. She opens easily and shifts closer and I kiss her until her pulse is racing beneath my hands and my need for her is so strong I need to feel her against me.
I slide my hands to her hips and give her a firm tug.
“Closer,” I grunt, but she’s already moving, throwing a leg over me carefully and I’m fucking pissed about my knee right now because it means she’s going to be careful with me, that I have to be careful with her, when all I want is to show her how damn much I want her.
I groan as she settles onto my lap, my dick hardening beneath her and her brown eyes widen as she settles her hands on my shoulders.
“Is this okay?”
“It’s not nearly enough,” I admit, right before I push her at her back so she falls to me and she takes my mouth again, moving tenderly and cautiously. It’s not my mouth that’s in pain, though, so I take over and devour the sweet taste of her, the fruitiness of her wine and the flavor of whatever lip gloss she must be wearing.
And then there’s the floral scent of her perfume.
All of it mixes together along with the silkiness of her hair tangled in my fist. I shove back on the couch so I’m sitting up better and drop my good leg to the floor. The move has her sliding against me, and my dick is now rock hard beneath her and thank God she’s only wearing leggings tonight beneath a long, gray sweater because my hands easily slide up beneath her sweater as she rocks against me.
“Jude,” she gasps as my hand slides against her skin. My hand is burning with heat and the need to feel her.
“Shh. We can do this. I can do this.”
“Should we move?” she asks. “We can go to my bed.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” I press my hand to her back and roll my hips. My knee is killing me, but I’m pretty sure I can do what I want with her without damaging it.
Mostly I just want to feel her and I’m not stocked with a condom anyway, but I like the direction of her thoughts. She’s as desperate for me as I am to feel her. She proves it by dropping her hands to the blue and white striped shirt I threw on earlier. Her fingers undo the buttons and I stop kissing her long enough to shift my weight as she shoves it off my shoulders, down my arms. I fling it somewhere behind me and return to her body, sliding both my hands up her sweater so I can undo her bra.
“Oh,” she whispers against my mouth. I move toward her front, to her breasts. It’s been years, too damn long, since I’ve touched her and now that I have her, it’s a miracle I’ve survived so long.
No one compares to the way my heart and body reacts to Katie.
I shove up her bra and feel the weight of her breasts in my hands, toying with her hardened buds, teasing her, reveling in the way she whimpers and her hips buck against me.
“Jude.” She’s all gasps and fingers clinging to my naked chest and shoulders. She makes these needy, wild soft sounds that shoot straight to my balls.
I shove off her sweater and strip off her bra. It joins my shirt somewhere behind the couch and then she’s there, exposed and half-naked in front of me and I stop kissing her and stare because I have no idea what to do with her first.
“I don’t have a condom,” I rasp, because she needs to know. I don’t need to have sex with her tonight. I actually want to wait until I can take her like I want. “But I want to feel you and touch you.”
Her hand drifts down my abs to the button of my jeans. “As long as I can do the same to you this time.”
“Anything you want.”
I’ll give her anything. Forever. I’m pretty sure I was destined to be hers the first time I saw her walking across campus one fall, all that wild hair flying out behind her on a windy day and the sway of her ass as she hurried to class. I saw her again in a crowded hallway bitching about how much athletes sucked. It took me three months to finally get a decent chance to talk to her and I’ve kicked my own ass so many times for not gathering up my balls and approaching her sooner.
“Lean up on your knees,” I tell her. I want my mouth on her tits, my hand down her pants. I want to gather her cries and her orgasms and hold them in all the vivid areas of my memory banks so I can keep them with me forever. If that makes me a perverted sick fuck, I don’t give two shits.
She does what I say, using her hands on my shoulders for leverage and then her tits are in front of me and I cup them before pulling her closer. I suck one into my mouth, take the other in my hands.
Her moans are things that wet dreams are made of as I work her nipples, suck them into my mouth and swirl my tongue around them. I switch back and forth, drinking down every sound she makes as her hips move, searching for friction that I can no longer wait to give her.
I grip her leggings at her waist and yank them down, smiling when I realize she’s been bare beneath them.
Modest and beautiful Katie Carter doesn’t wear underwear and she’s glistening wet, calling for me. She digs her fingers into my skin as I slide my fingers through her wetness, bringing them to my mouth.
“Shit,” she gasps. Her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes are wide as I taste her and smirk up at her. “I will have my mouth on you soon, I swear it, Katie.”
“Oh God.” Her head falls back as I go back to her sex, sliding my fingers through her before pressing one finger and then two deep inside. I curl and twist them, sucking on her nipple while her body goes wild.
It’s so fucking beautiful to see her come undone, as she moans out my name, biting her lip to try to stay quiet, that I want to stay here forever, bring her to climax over and over and over again until her throat is raw from screaming my name.
Instead, I rub her through her orgasm, watching the clench of her stomach muscles, memorizing her pink nipples, her swollen perfect breasts and the slick flesh at her skin as she comes all over my hand.
“Holy crap,” she breathes and her legs are shaking so hard I gently bring her back to my lap while she gathers herself and regains control of her breathing. “You’re incredible,” she whispers into my neck where I can feel I’m sweating from the exertion and I’ve barely done a thing. “And now it’s my turn.”
Her hand goes to my dick and she massages me through my jeans that are so damn tight, one move from her hand and I might come all over myself like a teenage boy who’s got his first hard-on.
“I want to see you.” There’s a beautiful smirk to her lips and gleam in her eyes. I expect her to undo my jean
s, take out my dick and give me a hand job, but like always, Katie is full of surprises.
She wiggles back into her leggings and slides off my lap, gently moves my injured leg to the side before settling on her knees in front of me.
“You might not be able to get your mouth on me yet, but I can.”
14
Katie
He barks out a laugh. I don’t know where this boldness is coming from, but perhaps when Jude rubbed me off, a little bit of him rubbed off on me as well.
“I feel like I should be a gentleman and say you don’t have to, but yeah, I really want your mouth on me.”
My hands are already at his jeans. I undo the button and then his zipper. The scratch of the zipper seems magnified in the quiet of my space. I can still barely hear it over the thundering of my heart. I haven’t been with a lot of men, but I love the rush of power I feel when I’m on my knees, pleasuring a man. He pushes his weight into his palms and lifts his ass, flinching at the jerky movements.
“You okay?” I ask, and glance at his knee. His thigh is trembling and he grunts in pain. “I can take it. I promise.”
It hurts him, but I let it go. I have to trust Jude to know what he can tolerate. And I’m pretty sure most men will live with excrutiating pain in order to get their dick sucked.
Once I get his jeans past his hips, he helps shove them the rest of the way off along with white boxer briefs. Then he’s exposed in front of me, all glorious and so many inches in front of me, my mouth waters. He’s large everywhere, and his dick is no different, pure perfection in girth and length. I remember the stretch of my body, the time it took to accept him into me before, and I grow wet again from the memory of his size.
“You can stare at me all you want, but can you at least put your hand on me while you do?”
His voice is tight and I laugh at his question which is really more like a command. I comply without thinking, readjusting my position so I can wrap my hand around his base and then I bring the tip of him into my mouth.
“Oh shit,” he gasps and his hands go to the side of my head. He digs them into my hair as I finally, for the first time in years, get to do all the things to him I’ve wanted for so long.
I taste him and tease. I swirl my tongue around his tip, drag it down his length before I take him as far as I can into my throat. I find the rhythm that makes his hips arch into me with my hand and mouth, the suction that makes him curse, the twist of my hand at his base he seems to go wild over and I’m loving this moment.
Me. On my knees for Jude. Giving to him while at the same time, I’m driving myself crazy. My own sex is throbbing, so with my free hand, I shove my hand down my pants. He must like the look of what I’m doing to myself and him because his hands at my head tighten and he shoves his dick farther down my throat.
“Oh fuck.”
I hum around him, and gasp as I find my clit swollen and my core soaking wet for him. Never have I gotten this hot giving a man a blow job before. My movement and concentration on Jude wavers as I find my own rhythm and it takes me a moment to figure out how to take care of myself while pleasing him but then he’s gritting his teeth, and I can tell he’s trying to be careful with his hips, but the quick little jerks are too much.
I feel him begin to swell in my mouth, and I slide my hand to his base, gripping his balls and he comes, climaxing with his abs so tight his muscles look like bricks. He moans my name in such a guttural tone torn from his throat, that I come again on my fingers, whimpering around his dick as he empties himself down my throat.
He releases my hair gently and collapses back onto the couch. His hands cover his face as he drops his head to the back of the couch. “Holy shit. I think you killed me.”
He laughs and I kiss his stomach. He’s still hard, and I lick his tip as he shivers before covering himself with one hand.
“Sensitive. Be nice,” he mutters and he cracks open one eye and smiles down at me.
“I should get cleaned up. I’ll be back.” I kiss his stomach again, his thigh, and then I pull up my leggings that will need to be changed. “Can I get you something? Or help?” I gesture to his jeans.
“I’ll take care of it, I just need a second to remind my legs how to work.”
I laugh with him. I’m just a girl, but I like knowing I can affect this big strong famous guy like this.
I hurry down the hall and once I’m in my room, I rip off my leggings. Chucking them into the laundry basket, I then dig into a basket in my closet where I keep the rest of my leggings. I’m still naked on top so I grab a sweatshirt, an old Chicago College sweatshirt that’s three sizes too large but comfortable. I pull it on, and I’m yanking my hair out from beneath the collar when I hear a scream.
Something frightened or in pain and I run down the hallway.
“Jude! Are you okay?”
I reach the living room of my small apartment and collapse against the wall, doubled over with laughter.
Because Whiskers has decided to join us, and Jude looks terrified as she stands on the couch, back arched, tail high in the hair and she hisses at him. He hasn’t been able to pull up his jeans and he’s frozen, hands up. His cock, now slack, rests against the juncture of his thigh and hip, still impressive. I smother another laugh as he drops one of his hands to cover it. Barely.
His head whips toward me as I enter, clenching my stomach and hiding my laugh.
“She’s going to eat my dick, Katie. Come help.”
“She’s not going to eat any part of you.”
Whiskers hisses again and paws at the couch, but her head swivels toward me. I swear she’s smiling.
“You like that, Whiskers?” I ask, and Jude still hasn’t moved. “I do too.”
“Not funny,” he grumbles and he slowly bends down and grabs his jeans. I go and help, but he’s able to pull them up high enough where he can stand. He tugs his jeans over his hips while keeping his attention on the cat.
“She always looks like she’s going to kill you right before she snuggles,” I say. “I promise, I think it means she likes you.” I wave a hand at his crotch and smirk. “Although, really, what’s not to like.”
“Not exactly the kind of attention from a pussy I enjoy getting,” he grumbles and buttons his jeans. “And I think she clawed my back.”
“Let me see.” I turn him around and flinch. On his shoulders are moon-shaped cuts. I run my fingertip over one. Before seeing the three slashes from Whiskers. “She’s not the only one who got a hold of you.”
I don’t think I’ve ever marked someone before and the way Jude smiles at me over his shoulder, one brow arched and his lips lifted says he doesn’t mind. “Really?”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Your marks, I’ll happily wear.” He points to Whiskers who’s now curled up exactly where Jude was just sitting, happily and lazily licking a paw. “It’s hers that scared the shit out of me. She came out of nowhere.”
“Well, in her defense, this apartment is really sort of her domain and she just allows me to stay in it. She was probably pissed we woke her from her thirtieth nap of the day.”
“Fucking cats,” he gripes and spins so his hand is at my back. “I haven’t kissed you properly yet to thank you for well… that.”
He stumbles over his words and I rise to my toes, brushing my mouth over his. “No thanks necessary. Want a fresh beer or anything?”
“Maybe some water?” He looks out the window and a line pinches between his brows. “It’s getting late. I should be heading back home.”
“Or you can stay?” I squeeze his hand as I walk by, acting like me asking him to spend the night isn’t any big deal, but we both know it is. I’ve left his place twice now, scared of what might happen between us if we actually sleep together.
“Yeah? You want that?”
I grab a bottled water from the fridge and he limps toward me, one hand at the counter of my island to help steady his weight.
“Yes, I want that.”
/> “Then I’ll stay.” He reaches out for the bottled water, but at the last moment, yanks me to him. My hands slap against his still bare chest and then his mouth is on mine. It’s hard and fast, full of tongue and groans and I’m dizzy when he pulls back. “Mind if we find a game and watch? I think Vegas is playing.”
I gesture for him to go ahead and he does indeed find Joey’s game where his team is playing out in California.
“Do you need ice or anything for your knee?”
“I’m good. Maybe some ibuprofen if you have it?”
That’s not a problem, so I grab the bottle, refill my wine, and then I spend the next two hours peppering Jude with questions about the rules of hockey and the players he knows. He spends the time patiently answering my questions and alternating that with yelling at the television and cheering his brother on.
And when the game is over, I hand him a crutch and take his hand. I guide him to my bedroom. I get ready for bed first and dig through a drawer to find a spare toothbrush. Once he’s gotten ready, I lay next to his good side and curl into him with one of my arms draped across his expansive chest and stomach holding myself to him.
He kisses the top of my head and I’m already half-asleep when he says, “Goodnight, Katie. Thanks for a great night.”
And by his deep, rumbling and satisfied tone, I know he’s not only thinking about the blow job he got—that’s not the only thing that made the night so great—which means I fall asleep on his strong and warm chest with a smile on my face.
