Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4)

by R. C. Martin

  Now, as I lay in bed with Judah, his grey eyes locked with mine as if he’s willing me to crawl all the way out of my dream state, all I want to do is tell him that I love him. I’m afraid he won’t believe me; that he won’t understand that it’s not a decision I made, but a feeling that I’ve simply chosen to embrace. But more than anything, I’m afraid of what he’ll do with it if he does believe me. Will it scare him away? Will he laugh at me? Will he ever repeat the words back to me?

  “Wake up, sweetheart. You’re supposed to be on the road in an hour.”

  I free a groggy groan, tucking my body further into his, wishing we could stay in bed a while longer, wondering why I insisted he wake me before the sun was high in the sky.

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven,” he answers, grazing a hand down my back.

  His touch sends tingles up my spine, making it even more impossible to think about getting out of bed.

  “Tell me,” he begins to say, his sexy morning voice rumbling from his chest. “What time is not too early for you?”

  I’ve never spoken to him so soon after he’s woken up. Makes me think I should wake up with him more often. “Eight,” I reply. “Eight is good. Eight is fair. Eight makes me not want to throw my beeping phone across the room.”

  “Well, you can’t throw me,” he says, smacking my ass. “Up. I won’t say it again.”

  As soon as he speaks the words, he rolls away from me, climbing out of bed. I sigh sadly, instantly missing his warmth. Then I, too, get out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom.

  We brush our teeth together, saying nothing as we exchange glances in the mirror—in between his not-so-subtle peeks at my bare chest. When I’m finished, I start for the shower while he closes himself into his little toilet room. I’m just starting to soak my hair under the hot spray of the water above me when he comes out, walking straight for the second shower head. I wipe the excess water from my face as I look at him in confusion. We’ve never shared a shower before—and right now, I know we don’t have the time.

  “Jude?”

  “Teddy?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a shower,” he deadpans.

  “But—” My breath catches in my throat when my eyes drift down and I catch a glimpse of his erection. I also notice the condom he’s got tucked between his fingers. “I have to leave in less than an hour.”

  “Oh, you’re concerned about this?” he asks with a smirk, holding up the little square package. “This is just in case.” I watch as he stows it away between his shampoo and body wash, propped up in his hanging shower caddy.

  “Just in case what?”

  “In case you can’t resist me.”

  My mouth falls open as he grins, winks, and turns his back to me. For a second, I’m appalled that he thinks I have that little self-control—but then he starts soaping himself down. With his hands—his big hands, with those long fingers that feel amazing no matter where they are on my body. Watching the muscles in his back move as he uses his arms reminds me of just how strong he is, and how good it feels to be at the mercy of his hard body…his hard…body.

  I’m still standing under the hot water, but my nipples have grown hard and my skin is covered in goose bumps. I don’t realize that the small whimper I hear has come from my mouth until he turns and looks at me from over his shoulder.

  “Did you need something, sweetheart?”

  The wicked smile on his face is all the more alluring with the dark stubble that covers his jaw. I wish he would have shaved before he got in the shower with me. Maybe then, I would have been able to resist him.

  Yeah. His stubble. Blame his stubble.

  I take a hesitant step toward him. Then another. And another. He watches me until I’m at his back. Slipping my timid hands around his waist, I feel my way down to his cock, wondering if it’s still hard.

  “It’s yours if you want it, Teddy.”

  I’m wet from the inside out, anxious and wanting and unable to stop myself from seeking the pleasure I know only he can offer. Boldly, I stroke his hardened length a couple times before pressing my lips to the center of his back.

  “Jude?” I whisper against his smooth skin.

  “Teddy?”

  “I want it.”

  I feel it as he shifts, looking at me from over his shoulder once more. I peer up at him from beneath my lashes, waiting for his reply.

  He nods toward the back of the shower and says, “Bend over. Hands against the wall.”

  I stiffen behind him, nervous about his command. While I’m growing accustomed to following his lead—especially during sex—the thought of bending over is a little intimidating. With a deep breath, I let him go and try to relax. I hope that my ass in the air is more of a turn on for him than an embarrassing position for me.

  I arrange myself out of the spray of either shower head, right in front of the back wall, and bend in half—pressing my hands against the smooth stone in front of me. The steam from the shower and my arousal keep me warm as I wait for Jude to put the condom on. I gasp when I feel his hands grip around my waist. Then, without warning, he slams into me.

  It hurts at first—my whole body in shock at his intrusion. I grunt my surprise, stabilizing my arms as he continues to thrust in and out of me with purpose. When his hands roam over my backside, squeezing my ass as he groans, I feel it as I grow even more wet.

  “Fuck, yes,” he growls. “Goddamn, your cunt is perfect. So fucking perfect, Teddy.”

  I don’t understand why, but his words spur me on even more. Now, I’m not the slightest bit uncomfortable. Instead, I relish in the feel of his hips slamming against me, his balls clapping against my clit with every thrust. He feels so good. So powerful. So possessive.

  I moan, his every move pulling my orgasm closer and closer to the surface. I start to feel overly warm, my body on fire as he fills me up, the steam from the shower making me sweat. My hands slip, but Judah is quick to grab hold of my hip. He squeezes me so tight, I know I’ll have a bruise, but I don’t mind. All I can think about is coming. I want so badly to come.

  “Jude,” I cry. “Jude, I’m close—oh, I’m close!”

  “Does my shy girl want to come? Huh?” he grinds out, pumping into me harder.

  “Please. Please!”

  Without another word, the hand that’s not holding my hip slides around my front and down between my legs. His fingers graze my clit and that’s all it takes before I detonate. My insides flutter around him as I mewl, my whole body feeling weightless as pleasure seeps through my veins. Again, my hands slip, but Judah pulls out of me and spins me around. As I stand upright, I lose my balance, my eyes drifting closed of their own accord.

  “Teddy? Teddy!”

  I reach for him, trying to gain control of my equilibrium, but it’s not working.

  “Shit—Teddy. Stay with me, sweetheart.”

  I don’t understand his words, or the tone in which he’s speaking. Frantic isn’t the term I would use, but there’s a sense of urgency I can’t quite fully understand as I crawl my way out of the aftershock of my orgasm.

  “That was intense,” I murmur. I open my eyes and find Jude scowling at me. It’s then that I realize I’m no longer on my feet. Instead, I’m cradled in his arms against his chest. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Are you okay? You just blacked out for a second.”

  “I did?” I ask with a chuckle. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to laugh, but the situation seems to beg for it. I feel fine now, if not a little overheated, and that I blame entirely on he hot man holding me now. “Damn. You’re good.”

  “Teddy, that’s not funny.”

  I grin at him, catching the way his lip twitches as if he’s dying to bask in his ability to fuck me unconscious. “Come on—it’s a little funny.”

  “Yeah, you think so?” he asks, still fighting his amusement.

  “Mmmhmm,” I reply with a giggle. “I mean, you tol
d me you were good—but I had no idea. Your dick is dangerous.”

  He looses his fight against his smile as he laughs. The sound makes me unbearably happy, and I reach for his face, needing to kiss him. The instant my lips touch his, the moment shifts again. When he runs his tongue along the seam of my mouth, I open up for him, inviting him to kiss me deeper. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling my body as close as I can get.

  “Hold on tight, Teddy,” he instructs, speaking directly into my mouth, our lips never parting.

  I do as he says and he drops my legs before grabbing hold of the back of my thighs, spreading them open and guiding them around his hips. Slowly, he eases his cock back inside of me before pressing my back against the wall. I whimper, holding him tighter still. My breasts ache, my longing for his touch making me feel needy.

  “Jude—” I reach for his wrist and he follows my tug, his hand sliding up my side. “Jude, touch me—I want to feel you everywhere.”

  He takes over, cupping my breast in his hand, massaging it softly at first. His touch gets a little rougher as his thrusts grow a little harder. When he pinches my nipple, he squeezes it hard. I don’t know what to make of the sensation, but before I can figure it out, his mouth is latched onto my opposite breast, sucking my other nipple. He bites me, and it hurts, but then he soothes the soreness away with a gentle stroke of his tongue. He repeats the act and my body is soon overwhelmed with all the different ways he makes me feel.

  When he pulls away and crushes his lips against mine—nibbling and sucking on me as his thrusts gain momentum, I assume he’s on the cusp of his own orgasm. I hope he hurries—because I think I’m on the verge of coming again.

  “Are you going to come for me, sweetheart? Are you going to strangle this dangerous dick with your tight pussy?”

  “I think so,” I whisper with a nod, my gaze locked with his.

  He takes both of my hands in both of his, lacing our fingers together as he lifts my arms up above my head. Bringing his mouth to my ear, he whispers to me, telling me how good I feel wrapped around him. His words make me moan and he pushes himself into me deeper, his pelvis grazing my clit with every stroke. It’s all too much, it’s all just enough, and I squeeze my legs around him as my hands grip his tighter, my second orgasm making my whole body grow stiff.

  “Fuck—fuck, yes!” He cries out as he grows still, his dick pulsing inside of me.

  He buries his face in my neck, as our bodies begin to relax and we work to catch our breath. He doesn’t let me go right away, and he doesn’t pull out, either. His desire to stay near me for just a while longer makes my heart swell.

  “I think, maybe this once,” he mutters, his lips grazing the skin, “that there is no time for coffee.”

  I laugh and then kiss the side of his stubble covered jaw. “I’ll choose you over coffee any day.”

  Judah and I are in the shower for another fifteen minutes. He shuts off his shower head and joins me under mine, insisting that our only option, if we want a hot shower, is to share what little there is left. So, while I wash my hair, he washes my body, and then I wash his. When we’re finished, I’m turned on again, but I try my best to ignore it. The two orgasms he gave me earlier have already put me behind schedule—and I know he’s got plans for his morning, too.

  I wrangle my hair into a long side braid before I get dressed. I wiggle my way into my favorite pair of tight, holey jeans and then slide into a red flannel shirt that I roll up my forearms. I don my puffy green vest, sure that the weather where I’m going will call for it, and then I gather all of my things in my bag. After I’ve slipped my feet into my canvas flats, I’m set to go.

  Just as I’m getting ready to leave, Judah appears—still in only his boxer briefs—and hands me a traveler mug full of coffee. Now, more than ever, I want to tell him I love him, but I don’t say a word. I simply kiss him with all my might, and then I tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.

  It takes approximately two steps off of his front porch before I start to miss him. I know it’s ridiculous, I know it might be borderline obsessive, but I really don’t care. That man makes me happy, and I wish I could be with him all the time. Though, our time apart this weekend is probably my fault entirely. I didn’t invite him up to meet my parents. I haven’t met his parents yet, and I really wanted to wait until he brought it up before I introduced the idea.

  Even though I didn’t feel comfortable asking him if he wanted to come with me this weekend, I have thought about whether or not I am interested in bringing him home. Given my history, introducing any guy to my parents is a huge deal. Truth be told, I’m not afraid of introducing Judah. I know we’ve only been together for a couple of months, but what we have is really significant to me. The personal hurdles I’ve leapt over just by being in a relationship with him are proof that I’m completely serious about him. What worries me more than how I would handle it, or even how Jude would handle it, is how my parents would handle it.

  I haven’t really told them too much about my mysterious man. I’m still getting to know all of his intricacies myself. There’s far more to him than what meets the eye, which is why I’ve come to care so deeply for him. He’s amazingly complex—but that’s not something he shows to everyone. I haven’t quite decided what kind of boyfriend he would present himself to be when being introduced to my parents. He’d be a gentleman, I’m sure; but would he feel comfortable around them? Would he be sweet to me in front of them—or would he save that for when we are alone, like he does so often now?

  I’m abruptly pulled from my thoughts when I start my car and it makes that horrid screeching noise again. It’s been doing it all week, for reasons unknown to me—as I am car illiterate. Nevertheless, she’s been running just fine. I just let her idle for a minute, giving Agatha a chance to get used to the fact that I’m about to drive—whether she likes it or not.

  I send a quick text to my parents, letting them know that I’m running a bit behind and I’m just now getting on the road. Then I blast my tunes as I back out of Judah’s driveway, preparing for the hour long drive up to one of my all time favorite towns. Our family moved to Estes Park, Colorado when I was thirteen. Up until then, we lived in Wyoming. When an opportunity came along for dad to transfer units on the force, offering him more pay, our family packed our bags. Mom, who has worked in the school district my whole life, didn’t have too much trouble securing herself a position at the local middle school working as a guidance counselor. Now, I doubt they’ll ever leave the quaint little town.

  I’m just beyond halfway there when my car suddenly feels different. I can’t say what it is, but I’m losing momentum and I can’t get it to accelerate. I try not to panic, but I don’t do a very good job. The lanes are now only one in each direction, and I can’t even imagine how horrible it’ll be if I’m stuck right in the middle of the road. I manage to drift onto the narrow shoulder, and I thank God that my car is little, but I still don’t feel particularly safe stopped where I am.

  There’s no point in me getting out and popping the hood. I know all I’d see are a bunch of parts I have no idea what to do with. All I can think of are ways to get my car home. I’ll need a tow, that’s for certain—but I don’t know if I should have it towed to Estes, or back to Fort Collins. If it requires more than a kick and a jiggle to fix whatever is wrong, I’ll be stuck in Estes for who knows how long. That means no Judah.

  A better person would worry about her job. Her friends. Her small overnight bag that doesn’t have nearly enough underwear to warrant a stay longer than one night. But me? I think of my boyfriend and how much I wish he was with me right now. I think of what even the idea of being without him for a couple days would do to me.

  When I pull out my phone to call him, I tell myself that he’ll know what to do. I justify my decision to reach out to him, knowing that he’ll at least be able to find me a tow-company. I even go so far as to imagine that maybe he knows a thing or two about cars and he could potentially identify what’s wrong w
ith mine—though, that one might be a bit of a stretch. He strikes me as someone who enjoys nice things, like his Porsche, but not someone who could fix his nice things. Nevertheless, he’s my first call.

  As the phone rings, I discard all my excuses and surrender to the truth. The real reason why I’m calling him is because I don’t want anyone else to come to my aid.

  I just want Judah.

  I’m slipping into a jacket, about to leave for a late tee time with Aunt Eddalyn, when my phone rings. I pick it up from where I’ve left it, on top of the island in my closet, and see that it’s Teddy. I pause for a moment, a feeling of unease filling my chest as I try and think of why she would be calling me right now. She’s only been gone for a half an hour, and she knows that I have plans this morning.

  Realizing that I’ll never know for sure unless I answer, I swipe my finger across the screen and bring the device to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Judah—it’s me.”

  “Yes, Teddy. I know who you are,” I reply, a small smile pulling at one corner of my mouth.

  “Right,” she murmurs with a nervous laugh. “Well, the reason I’m calling is because—something’s wrong with my car. I managed to pull off onto the side of the road, but given that it stopped accelerating, I’m thinking if I started it up again, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I don’t really know who to call and so I was just thinking—I was just thinking you could help me?”

  I knit my eyebrows together in a scowl, not pleased with this situation in the slightest.

  “Teddy, are your hazard lights on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, do you not have roadside assistance?” I ask, leaving my closet. I move quickly, heading for the kitchen where I left my tablet.

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  Her uncertainty is bothersome, but I don’t address it. I unlock my tablet and search for a towing service. “Where are you, exactly? I’m going to have your car picked up and taken to my mechanic.”