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Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4)

Page 13

by R. C. Martin


  “Dates. Lots of dates. Sex not guaranteed. You got it. I hear everything that’s coming out of your mouth—only, right now, I don’t want there to be any words coming out of your mouth. At least, not ones meant to be understood.”

  I can’t understand how he thinks he’s hearing me. I keep telling him that I won’t have sex with him, and yet he seems fine with that. I know that’s the arrogant asshole in him that’s sure I’ll give in—but surely there must be a small part of him that believes me. I’ve told him no far more times than I’ve told him yes.

  Then it clicks. Judah is a man who seeks pleasure. Just because he’s chasing after me doesn’t mean he isn’t also chasing after other women. While his sex life is really none of my business, I’m not willing to be one in a rotation of women keeping his company.

  “When’s the last time you had sex?” I brazenly ask.

  He chuckles, shaking his head at me. “Something tells me you don’t really want to know the answer to that.”

  I open my mouth to argue otherwise, but then snap it closed when I realize that he’s right. I really don’t want to know. Right now, in his arms, I want to hold onto that feeling he gave me a few minutes ago—like it was just him and me and no one else. Yet, I know that’s not true. And if I’m going to do this with him, I can’t play by his rules.

  “So—you’re telling me that you want to spend more time with me? Without sex?”

  “I’m telling you that I want to spend more time with you—with sex. But I’m a man who can respect your boundaries.”

  “So, you want to date me?”

  “Teddy,” he groans. “Right now, I just want to kiss you. I was enjoying that a great deal. Can we get back to that?”

  I fight a smile, more than a little proud that he likes kissing me as much as I like kissing him. The thought of kissing him some more makes my whole body warm and tingly with want. For a moment, I wonder what happened to the girl who walked into this house? The one still uncertain as to whether or not this was a good idea. Truth be told, I’m still not sure this is a good idea—but I want it so very much. Then I hear Geoffrey in my head…

  Live a little, Teddy—you might enjoy it.

  Turns out, he might be right.

  “Go one week without sex,” I blurt out. He arches an eyebrow at me and I smile at him, knowing that this is what I want. “Go one week without having sex with anyone and I’ll go out with you.”

  “I’m not an animal, Teddy. I can keep it in my pants,” he deadpans.

  “Then it should be no problem, right?”

  He studies me for a moment before he asks, “Why? Why should I do this for you?”

  “Because I like kissing you, too,” I whisper. “But I don’t date often…and if I’m going to do this with you, I have to be able to trust you.”

  He stares at me contemplatively, and I wonder if this is it—the moment he tells me no. But then he nods once before leaning into me, bringing his lips so close to mine that I can practically taste him. “Can I kiss you now?”

  He doesn’t let me answer, his mouth pressed against mine before I can even think of a reply.

  I draw in a deep breath upon waking, opening my eyes as I turn my head to look out my window. The sun looks to have risen not too long ago. When I reach over to my nightstand to tap my phone, I see that it’s only a few minutes after seven. Raking my fingers through my hair, I look to my other side. Teddy is still sleeping soundly, her face turned away from me. I stifle a grunt, dissatisfied with the outrageous amount of clothes we’re both wearing.

  She’s a phenomenal kisser—those full, sweetheart lips of hers just as delectable as I imagined they would be. I kissed them until they were chapped and swollen, until my dick could take no more foreplay and I was in need of a cold shower. The look in her eyes when I finally pulled away, it just about did me in. I tried distracting myself by cleaning up the kitchen, but then she insisted that she help. Having her near me did nothing to ease my hard-on. After a while—I needed some fucking relief.

  I poured her another glass of wine before I excused myself. My intent had been to hop in the shower for just a few minutes—but remembering the way she felt in my arms, the way she wrapped her petite frame around me, the way her soft tits and hard nipples felt beneath my hand through that damn shirt, and the little sounds she made as our tongues became well acquainted—I was so turned on, I came three times before I could get my dick to go limp. Even now, I feel myself growing hard just remembering.

  By the time I made it back upstairs, I’d been gone for thirty minutes, and she’d fallen asleep. She was so far gone, she didn’t even wake when I scooped her up and carried her down to my bed. Looking at her now, a smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I think of Benjamin. If I told him a woman slept in my bed—fully clothed—he’d laugh and say I was lying. If I wasn’t here to see it with my own eyes, I’d probably respond the same way.

  Though, the simple fact that she’s still here means I can’t deny that I don’t mind her company.

  That truth must be why I agreed to her crazy first-date condition. No sex for seven days? Fuck—I feel like I’ve lost my goddamn mind. And yet, I wouldn’t take any of it back. Not one minute from last night do I regret. Teddy—naked, soaked in sweat, writhing beneath my body with those big, round, light brown eyes gazing up at me in a lust-filled haze, much like the look she gave me last night—that’s what I want. And there’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll be worth the effort. I can hardly wait.

  Knowing that I’ll have to do just that, I crawl out of bed and head for the bathroom. I relieve myself before I wash my hands and brush my teeth. When I’m finished, my eyes catch Teddy’s clothes, now stiff and dry, hanging on the hook next to my towels. I remove them, including her cotton, nude bra and her matching boy-short panties, taking them to my closet to discard into my dry-cleaning bag. I then leave the room, careful to not disturb Teddy as I head to the kitchen to make some coffee.

  Afraid that my coffee grinder will wake her, I opt for the Keurig. It takes less than a minute to brew, and after a single sip, I find myself making my way back to my bedroom. I don’t cross the threshold. Rather, I prop my shoulder against the doorframe and look in on the sleeping figure in my bed.

  Her long, dark red hair is everywhere—fanned across my pillow, the color standing out against the pale green sheets. As I enjoy my view, I realize that I was absolutely right. She’s an exceptionally welcome beauty in my bed. For reasons I can’t quite explain, I have no desire whatsoever to wake her up. I’m not certain what plans she has for her day, or when she’ll need to be getting back to her car, but my morning is free. So, with one last glance and another sip of my morning beverage, I take her in—her gorgeous face, her delicate figure, her wild hair—and then, reluctantly, I leave the room. I head to my office, set on distracting myself with work for a while.

  I wake with a start, immediately aware that I’m not in my own room. Sitting upright, I take in my surroundings. Grey walls, much like the grey eyes of the man who designed this space, a wall of windows, allowing the morning’s sun to shine through, and an unbelievably comfortable bed beneath me. A bed I don’t remember getting into. My eyes grow wide when I look in the empty space beside me and see that the covers are askew, as if someone has recently vacated the spot.

  Holy shit. Did I share a bed with Judah last night?

  I run my fingers through my hair as I try and piece together the last bit of our evening. I only had a couple glasses of wine. I’m sure it wasn’t enough to get me intoxicated. Then again, I’m fairly certain I was drunk on something else entirely. Or, rather, someone. A small, shy smile appears on my face and I’m quick to cover my mouth with my hands, stifling the girly giggle attempting to spill out of me.

  Holy shit. I made-out with Judah last night!

  My sense of giddy excitement is eradicated in an instant when I remember why it is that I’m here in the first place. I look to the nightstand, searching for my phone, and then smack my
palm against my forehead, realizing how stupid it is for me to look for the device I know is not here. Without my mobile, I’m unsure of the time. By the amount of sunshine that warms the bed, I can only assume that it’s far later than I ever intended to stay.

  Before I fell asleep, before Jude kissed me—god, did he kiss me—and before we got comfortable on the couch, sharing stories with one another, I had planned on having him take me to Geoff’s place before it got extremely late.

  That plan had definitely gone to shit the second Jude put his hands on me.

  Now, though, I must have overstayed my welcome. I hurry out of bed and make my way to his bathroom. One look in the mirror assures me that I’ve got to do something about the crazy mess on my head. I manage to finger-comb the thick, wavy strands to one shoulder before I weave them into a loose side braid, securing them with a hair tie at the end. Looking somewhat presentable, I turn to grab my clothes; only, I find that they are missing. I stare at the empty hook before I let out a little whine, in desperate need of coffee and my underwear.

  Deciding that if I find Judah, there’s a chance he might offer me the former and have an explanation as to why I can’t seem to locate the latter, I take a breath and go searching for him. As I make my way out of his bedroom, I try not to freak out that there is a very real possibility that he’s seen my extremely unsexy bra and panty set. When I reach the hallway, I pause, trying to decide where he might be. I’m not sure what’s in his basement, but there isn’t much to do upstairs, unless he’s in the kitchen or reading. I listen for a moment, and when I hear nothing, I make my way toward his office.

  My breath catches in my throat when I see him, sitting behind his desk with no shirt on. I curse myself for not getting a glimpse of all of that before I fell asleep last night. The wall of muscle I was sure existed underneath his clothing is exactly that—abs for days, pecs covered in the thinnest bit of dark hair that’s really sexy, making it hard for me to pull my eyes away to admire him more. There are, of course, his strong arms; and underneath his desk, his long, lean legs.

  Geoffrey is going to kill me when I tell him I shared a bed with this man and don’t remember a single moment of it.

  When Judah looks over at me, catching me as I ogle him, all I can do is smile nervously. If I had any idea of what I was doing with this man, I might be able to think of something witty or cute to say. However, I have absolutely nothing.

  “Good morning,” he murmurs.

  I sigh inwardly, wondering why I always forget my manners with him. “Good morning,” I manage.

  “You can come in, Teddy.”

  “Um, actually,” I begin to say as I take a step toward him, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I was wondering if you knew where my clothes went?”

  “I put them in with my dry cleaning. I’ll have them returned to you within the week.”

  “Oh,” I mutter, tilting my head as I stare at him, at a loss for words. Again. “You—I—I wasn’t, I mean, you didn’t—”

  “It’s no trouble,” he says before I can figure out what I’m trying to say.

  “Uh…thank you.” This time I sigh audibly, knowing that no matter how well we got to know each other last night, it’s stupid of me to think that I can be anything other than a stuttering fool when I speak to him before coffee. “By any chance could I get one of those?” I ask timidly, pointing at his mug. “Unless you need me to leave. Shit. I’m sorry—should I get my things?”

  He chuckles as he stands, and the combination of that sound with the sight of that body is so deadly, I can only handle one at a time. I look away from him, trying to take in the details of the room, and failing miserably—my body fully aware of his approach.

  “There’s time for coffee.” He stops when he’s standing right beside me, but he doesn’t speak or move. When I look up at him, he offers me a lopsided smile before he leans down and plants a solid kiss on my lips. “There’s always time for coffee,” he whispers before exiting the room.

  I follow after him, my shy smile from earlier returning to my face. This time, I don’t try and hide it. As he makes me a cup of coffee, he asks me if I’d like anything for breakfast. I decline on account that he has done far too much for me already. Honestly, I’m surprised by the lengths that he’s gone to show me such genteel hospitality. He did tell me that he considered himself a gentleman, and I admit I’ve seen glimpses of it before, but this is not at all what I expected when I called him last night.

  We chat idly about breakfast foods while I enjoy my morning brew. I tell him about my small obsession with Brandon’s blueberry crumble muffin. When he informs me that he’s not tried it, I make him promise me that he will. He does, which makes me happy for some reason, and then he tells me he’s going to get dressed. When he returns, in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt, he carries my purse and my favorite yellow heels. I can’t even begin to describe how ridiculous I feel when I slide my feet into the shoes and look down at myself—still swallowed up by his shorts and t-shirt. I can only hope and pray that nobody other than Geoff sees me like this.

  “I’m practically a PSA announcement, showcasing how real the walk of shame is,” I mumble.

  Jude laughs, which makes my lips twitch in a small smile.

  “Teddy, I’m sure you don’t know the meaning of shame. I look forward to teaching you,” he says with a wink. He jingles his keys in his pocket, tilting his head toward the stairs. “Ready?” I swallow, ignoring the accelerated beat of my heart at his implication, then nod and follow him to his Porsche.

  We don’t talk much as I give him directions to Geoffrey’s place. When we arrive, I assure him that he doesn’t have to wait on me. It’s ten in the morning, and I’m fairly confident I’ll find Geoff inside. Besides, I refuse to ask him to do another thing for me.

  Just as I’m getting ready to climb out of the car, he reaches over and gently grabs hold of my thigh. “I haven’t forgotten our arrangement,” he says once my eyes find his. “I’ve already got one day under my belt, as you know I didn’t have sex with anyone last night. Six more days, and then you’re mine for the evening.”

  I smile, feeling reassured by his declaration, like his words make last night more than a dream. “It’s a date.”

  I rap my knuckles against Geoffrey’s front door, looking down the hall to ensure that there is no one around to see me. My focus shifts back to the door when I hear a string of expletives coming from the other side as the deadbolt slides unlocked and the barrier between us swings wide open.

  “Jesus, Teddy! Where the hell have you been?” I open my mouth to respond, but all the wind gets knocked out of me when my Viking pulls me into his arms and crushes me against his chest. “I swear to God, I was ten minutes away from coming over to your apartment and kicking the damn door down. Andy and I have been trying to get a hold of you since last night. You scared the shit out of me. What the fuck happened? Are you okay?”

  I close my eyes and breathe him in, wrapping my arms around him to return his crushing embrace. Moments like this, I’m reminded that while my circle of friends is quite small, I’ve got the best people imaginable looking out for me and loving me just the way I need. I’m so incredibly blessed to call this man my best friend—especially when he’s being over-protective like he is now.

  “I’m fine, babe. I was a bit of a ditz last night, and I locked my phone in the gallery. Then, like an idiot, I locked my keys in my car. You have my spare, and I didn’t know how to reach you, so I was kind of stranded.”

  “Freckles, it rained half the night,” he says in a huff, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me away from him. He doesn’t let me go as he looks me up and down. “What did you do? More importantly—” He stops, his brow furrowed as he gives me a proper once-over. “Whose clothes are you currently swimming in?”

  For a fraction of a second, I try fighting my smile. I lose, of course, knowing that he’s going to flip his shit as soon as the truth is out. “They’re Judah’s,” I answer softly.
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  I watch as his blue eyes grow wide in pure shock. “Get your skinny, little ass in here, baby girl. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” He turns and marches his way into his condo, and I follow, shutting the door behind me. I discard my purse on the table he’s got just beyond the door, kicking off my shoes in the process.

  Being inside of Geoffrey’s home after spending a night in Judah’s feels like night and day. Where Jude’s style is more rugged chic, Geoffrey is very modern and sleek—lots of white, light grey, and navy. It’s cool in comparison, but it’s the man who lives here that makes it inviting and comfortable. Though, the absence of Reeve is still felt as I make my way through the living room toward the kitchen.

  “Have you eaten? Now that I’m sure you’re alive and well, I’m famished.”

  “I could eat,” I tell him. Making myself at home, I go to the cabinet that houses his mugs and grab one for myself. His pot of coffee is still half full, so I pour myself a cup and then pop it into the microwave while he goes about making his signature breakfast dish—spinach, Swiss, and mushroom omelets. Without fail, if he’s making breakfast, we’ll be having omelets. He never gets any complaints from me. They are always quite tasty.

  “That coffee ain’t free, baby girl. I want details,” he demands, looking at me from over his shoulder as I take my piping hot brew and lean up against the counter beside him.

  After my first sip, I decide to add a little cream. Geoff always has the good stuff, so as I begin to tell him about how I ended up at Judah’s house, I doctor my coffee until it’s just right. I’m sure to include the fact that my evening began with no flower delivery, which contributed greatly to my reluctance to call the gorgeous man. Then, for the most part, I divulge all Geoffrey could want to hear. I even gush about Jude’s closet.

 

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