Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4)

by R. C. Martin

  “Jude,” she breathes.

  “I hear you, sweetheart,” I assure her, sliding a hand up her side and over her breast.

  She squeezes her legs around my hips and my dick jerks.

  Swear to god, she’s going to kill me.

  “Jude? Jude—will you touch me again?”

  I pull away from her, surprised by her request, and shake my head. “We don’t have to. Not tonight—it’s okay.”

  “But I want you to,” she murmurs, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. “I ruined it before. I got scared and I—I over thought it and I assumed…I assumed wrong, and I know that.”

  “Teddy—”

  “Please,” she begs, tightening her grip around me. “No one has ever made me feel the way you do. I don’t want that taken from me, too. Please, Jude, please.”

  I don’t answer her right away, caught between the decision of disappointing her or indulging in what we both want. “Are you sure?”

  She nods, but as I free my fingers from her hair and cup my hand around her pussy, I know that this will never be enough. My craving for her is too much. I’ve waited too long. Upstairs, on the couch, I was a starving man offered a single bite, and I need more.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  I hook my fingers over the top of her panties and start to pull them down, my intentions from earlier resurfacing. “Do you trust me?” I ask again.

  “Yes,” she whispers, her eyes locked with mine.

  She wiggles in an attempt to help me remove her lacy undergarment. When I’ve got them as far as her knees, I ask, “Do you trust me?” She nods, but it’s not enough. I need her to hear the words just as much as I need to hear them. “Say it,” I demand.

  “I trust you.”

  I sink to my knees, tossing her panties over my shoulder before spreading her legs open wider. She gasps, but she doesn’t speak a word of protest as I admire her pussy. Then, my patience completely eradicated with one whiff of her arousal, I drag my tongue up the length of her slit. She jumps with a cry, and I smile up at her before repeating the action.

  “Judah!” she moans, gripping the edge of the counter as she throws her head back.

  Hearing my name on her lips like that, it jars the beast in me—the animal she’s turned me into, and I can no longer hold back. I devour her, thrusting my tongue in and out of her center before swirling it around her clit. I don’t stop until her whole body is quivering and I feel her pussy pulse around my tongue. I lap up every ounce of her desire, in awe of just how fucking delicious she truly is, and then I stand to my feet and crush my lips against hers.

  She wraps herself around me, and it’s all I can do not to pull my dick out right now. I don’t. As much as I want to, I know that I can’t. Not tonight. Tonight is about her. Tonight is about trust. The things I want to do to her—the things I will do to her—neither of us will enjoy them if she doesn’t trust me. So I ignore my throbbing dick and I lift her off of the counter, carrying her into my room before laying her across my bed.

  I settle myself between her legs and look down at her, checking to make sure she’s okay. When she reaches up and cups her hands around my face, I know she’s telling me something. She might not know it, but I do. The look in her eyes is a promise. My patience will soon be rewarded—and my wait will have been worth every damn second.

  I wake up in bed alone. Upon spotting the empty space beside me, I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. By the looks of the sun shining down on his backyard view, I assume that the morning is well on its way. I search for my phone only to remember that I left it in my purse, which is upstairs. I frown, realizing that my toothbrush is also in my purse, and then I climb out of Judah’s big, comfy bed.

  After using the bathroom, I wash my hands, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a mess, which makes me groan, and I’m being swallowed by another one of Jude’s t-shirts. Last night, he told me I couldn’t go to sleep in more clothing than I had on when I was first deposited into the bed. With only a two-piece allotment, I was as conservative as possible. I know it’s silly, considering the man has had his face in between my legs, but my I don’t care mantra doesn’t eliminate my shyness. I’ve never slept completely commando before, so I opted for my panties and went without a bra.

  Now, as I pull my hair up into an extraordinarily messy bun, I decide to be bold in morning’s light—leaving his room in nothing but a cotton T and my lacy undergarment. I pass by his office and find it empty before I head upstairs. When I reach the second level, I spot him in his dining room. He’s in a pair of gym shorts, his torso bare, and his sculpted back in full view. He’s standing bent over the table, working on something I can’t see from where I stand.

  I take advantage of the fact that he hasn’t noticed me yet, and tiptoe my way toward the end table that still holds my camera. I pick it up and turn it on, holding my breath as I inch just a little bit closer, angling myself so that I can get a portion of his profile in the shot.

  Click.

  He turns his head, looking over his shoulder at the sound, and I capture the moment that his eyes find me.

  “Good morning,” he says in greeting.

  “Morning,” I reply, lowering my camera.

  As he stares at me, my body buzzes in remembrance of his touch. Last night was not at all what I planned, and yet, it far exceeded anything I could have imagined. Granted, my melt down had been humiliating, but Judah was wonderful; every bit the gentleman that I’ve come to expect from him. He treated me with such care, and then took my body to a place that it has never known.

  I watch as his eyes travel up and down my body, and I acknowledge that his gaze is welcome—as are his hands and his lips and his tongue. Then, out of nowhere, I hear Geoffrey’s words from the other night resound in my head.

  You’re falling for him.

  While I might have had reason to silence my denial before, now I know without a doubt that I’m most certainly falling for the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s more patient and kind than I originally gave him credit for—more than he would allow me to give him credit for. I know that there are still parts of him that he keeps hidden, parts of him that are guarded against the likes of me; I know that my admitting to my feelings for him might be dangerous, but he’s a risk I can’t turn away from. Not anymore.

  “Come ‘ere. I promise I look better from over here.”

  I smile bashfully before closing the distance between us. When I reach his side, he guides me in front of him, putting me between his hot, bare chest and the table. I realize that what he’s got spread out across the surface is a blueprint.

  “What are you working on?”

  “Sometimes it’s easier for me to start my design here—with the skeleton of the room,” he says, curving his body to fit around mine as he locks me in his arms. When he presses his lips against the side of my neck, I have to set my camera down, afraid I’ll drop it if he continues.

  “Do you ever just sleep in? Do you always bring work home with you?” I have to actively force the words out as he runs a hand down my stomach, past my hip, and over my thigh. He applies a hint of pressure, cluing me in to what he wants, and I widen my stance. My breath hitches in the back of my throat as he pulls up the hem of his t-shirt before slipping his fingers into my panties.

  “I’m a busy man, Teddy,” he replies, speaking softly in my ear.

  His response doesn’t exactly answer my question, but I’m too distracted to call him on it. He traces his way over my entrance and toward my clit, and my knees grow weak. He notices, and his grip around my waist tightens.

  “Hold onto the table, sweetheart—and don’t come until I tell you to.”

  I whimper, thrusting my hands out in front of me. I almost come hearing him call me sweetheart—I have no idea how he expects me to practice such restraint. Nevertheless, I refuse to argue. For him, I will try. Even just knowing that he desires to bring me to an orgasm makes my hear
t race and my stomach tingle.

  When he dips a finger inside of me, my body acts of its own accord and I arch my back, pushing my ass against his crotch. He grunts, pressing his growing erection against me as he glides two fingers inside of my center. I can already feel the warm sensation of a budding release deep inside, and a soft moan spills from my mouth.

  “Do you feel what you do to me, Teddy? Hmm? Do you feel how damn hard you make me?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  His fingers pick up speed and I drop my head between my shoulders, the sound of my ragged breaths mingling with the resonance of my slick arousal coating his skin as he pumps in and out of me.

  “You’re so wet. Fuck—you feel good.”

  “Jude,” I sigh, sure that if he keeps talking, I’ll come any second. “Oh, Jude—”

  “What’d I tell you, sweetheart? Not until I say.”

  I close my eyes tight, attempting to shift the focus of my concentration. I try counting my breaths, but I lose track after four. “Oh, please—Judah! I can’t—”

  “Teddy—wait.” I whine, biting down hard on my lip, pressing even harder against his erection. “God—you’re so sexy. I love every little sound you make when I touch you. You like it when I touch you, don’t you, Teddy?”

  “Jude—shit—please!”

  “Answer me.”

  “Yes! Yes!”

  “Now,” he commands, his thumb pressing against my clit.

  I free a loud cry as my climax causes me to pulse around his fingers, pleasure washing over me like a tidal wave. I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t hold myself up, and I sag in his arms. After he pulls his hand from my panties, he turns me around, and crushes his lips against mine in a bruising kiss. He forces his tongue between my lips, and I sigh into his mouth, gripping hold of his strong arms. He tastes like coffee, which reminds me that I’ve yet to have a cup this morning.

  When he pulls away from me, I feel so wired, I wonder if he could be my caffeine fix from now on.

  “I think that should hold you over until the next time I see you,” he says, pulling me from my lust-filled daze. It isn’t until I replay his words that I realize what he’s implying.

  “Oh. I’m intruding on your day,” I mutter, glancing over into his kitchen to note the time. It’s almost ten a.m.

  “You’re not intruding. If that were the case, I would have woken you hours ago. But I do have things I need to get done today.”

  “Yeah—yeah, of course,” I reply, gently pushing myself out of his arms. He lets me go without a hint of hesitation, and my heart sinks. It’s silly and I feel stupid for being disappointed that we won’t be spending more of the day together; it was never a part of our Friday night plan. Even still, I can’t help the way that I feel. “I guess I’ll go get dressed.”

  “Teddy?” he says, lifting a curious eyebrow at me when I turn to face him once more. “No coffee?”

  “Well, I just thought—I mean, do you need me to—? Um,” I sigh, the high of my most recent orgasm already depleted, leaving me the usual blubbering mess I am before coffee. “Do you mind? I know it’s getting late.”

  A crooked smile spreads across his face and his soft chuckle stirs a longing in my chest.

  “Teddy—” He walks toward me, plants a firm kiss against my lips, and then enters the kitchen. “There’s always time for coffee.”

  I wake up with the dawn on Sunday morning, sporting an erection I simply cannot ignore. I’m so hard, I ache. As I lazily slide my hand down my chest and under the sheets, it’s Teddy who spurs me on. I grip my shaft, squeezing from base to tip before I rub my thumb over the head. A grunt spills out of me as I smear my pre-cum over myself. Mine is not the touch I crave, but I use it to chase after my much needed relief.

  As I pump my hand up and down my length, I picture Teddy in my mind—her legs spread wide open for me. I remember the way she tastes, the way it felt to run my tongue over her warm, wet pussy. I think of the sounds she made and the way she called my name. I squeeze harder and stroke faster, imagining how it’ll feel to finally sink my dick into her tight cunt—how it’ll feel when she orgasms around me, strangling my dick.

  “Uh, fuck,” I mutter, even just the thought making me harder.

  I’ve seen her face when she comes, and it’s exceptional. I know that what I’m capable of with my fingers doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I’m capable of with my dick. She thinks she knows what pleasure feels like, but she has no fucking clue. I’ll make her scream louder. I’ll make her beg harder. And when she comes—

  My orgasm hits me with little warning, and I spill my release all over my sheets. I groan, stroking myself until I go soft, wishing I wasn’t in bed alone. Yet, even after the chore of having to get myself off, I know it’s not an easy lay that I want. It’s been twenty-three days since I’ve had sex. While I’m dying for some pussy, I don’t miss the steady flow of women whose names I don’t even try to remember. It’s been so long since I’ve chased after only one woman, and I’ve forgotten how much I appreciate the challenge.

  I know there is an expiration date on this relationship with Teddy. I’m no fool. I refuse to allow myself to believe that there won’t soon be a day when I’m back to looking for a lay at the bar of my choosing; but for now, Teddy is the only woman I’m after. And when I’ve conquered her, I’m sure it’ll be the most magnificent victory I’ve had in a very long time.

  I’m closer now than I’ve ever been before.

  I can practically taste it.

  As I get out of bed and begin stripping the sheets, I’m struck with an idea. I pick up my phone to call Benjamin, but then I note the time. I decide to give it a few hours, going about my morning to pass the time. After dressing for a workout, I spend a good amount of time in my gym. I go at it hard, still needing to find a place to expend more of my sexual frustration. When I’m finished, I take a long shower, and then make myself breakfast. I read the Sunday paper over coffee. At ten o’clock, I decide I’ve stalled long enough. I pick up my phone and I dial my brother.

  “Hello?” he answers on the third ring.

  “Benjamin, good morning.”

  “Same to you, brother.”

  “Are you busy?”

  “Yes, but I can take a minute. What’s up?”

  “What can you tell me about Theodora Day?”

  “What?” he asks with a laugh. “Are you not the boyfriend of the woman for whom the day was dubbed?”

  I frown, not at all amused. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “When’s the last time you bought another woman a drink, Jude?”

  With a sigh, I run my fingers through my hair. I called with very specific intentions, and arguing about my relationship status was not one of them. “That’s beside the point, Ben. Now, are you going to answer my question or not?”

  “Fine. Someone’s in a mood. Look—I don’t know much, outside of the fact that I’m working my ass off this weekend so that I can be ahead for the week in order to make it in time for Thursday night’s festivities.”

  “You’re going?” I ask, surprised by the news. I figured Harper would have filled him in on her plans, but I never imagined that he’d be tagging along.

  “You’re not?”

  “That’s yet to be determined.”

  “She’s your girlfriend—how could you not go?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend. And I wasn’t exactly invited.” I think back to The Tap Room a few nights ago. When her friends mentioned her birthday, I was genuinely caught off guard. Then, when Teddy extended an invite, I could tell it was an uncertain one. “I don’t think she was sure that I would come,” I admit.

  “Well, you’ve got to be there. Harper insists that it’s a big deal.”

  “Yes. I know. Why do you think I’m calling? Though, you aren’t being very helpful.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. Here’s what I know—Harper’s heading up to Fort Collins in the morning. They’re going to do whatever girls do for occasion
s such as these, and then they’re meeting up with all of her friends for dinner. After dinner, they’re going to go to some club up there and go dancing.”

  I mull over the information he’s just shared with me a moment. Teddy isn’t my girlfriend, but she’s most certainly the object of my desire. As the woman I’m after, her birthday seems like an opportunity that cannot be wasted. However, to simply show up is not what I had in mind.

  “I need Harper’s number.”

  “Okay,” he says, dragging out the word. I can hear the smile in his voice, and I roll my eyes. “I’ll text it to you. What exactly are you thinking?”

  “I’ll let you know after I’ve spoken with Harper.”

  “You mean, you’ll let me know what you’ve got up your sleeve for your girlfriend after you’ve spoken with my girlfriend?”

  “I’m hanging up now. Text me her number.”

  His laughter is the last thing I hear before I disconnect the call.

  I’m roused from my sleep by a banging on my front door. I shoot upright, suddenly feeling alert. I’m instantly aware that my alarm clock didn’t go off and that the morning has begun without me. Then the banging sounds again, only there’s a rhythm to it. I smile, realization shattering my frantic thoughts. As I climb out of bed and make my way to the door, I’m sure of two things: the person on the other side will be none other than my sister; and her incessant knocking has the same beat as Happy Birthday.

  “You’re still in bed?” she cries once I’ve opened the door. “Your birthday started eight hours ago!”

  “And my gift to myself was an extra hour of sleep,” I reply with a giggle.

  “Fair enough.” She grins before barreling toward me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. “Happy fucking birthday, Teddy Bear! I’ve been looking forward to Theodora Day all week!”