Rogue Nights

by Ainsley Booth

  I offered what I could. “I’m sorry about April.”

  “We didn’t work out but she was a good mom. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

  “She deserved justice,” I murmured, flicking a curious glance at his face. “How is Gideon handling it?”

  “She was gone one day and he was with strangers the next. The Morgan family is nice, they are good to him but he’d lived on the Rez most of his life and then he wasn’t allowed to come back. He was grieving with strangers.” He sucked in a breath and I heard the wet, angry tears he held back. “I was incarcerated and couldn’t help him. It was my worst failure as his dad. Even worse than getting locked up in the first place.” He gestured around the room. “April’s uncle offered this place to me cheap because I would fix it up. The Aunties have helped with curtains and stuff. I’ve done all of this for Gideon. To make him a home.”

  “I get that,” I murmured, his breath hot against my ear where he leaned into me. I didn’t realize we’d moved in so close to each and his warmth made me ache with wanting to touch him, to comfort him.

  “Do you?” He turned his head and leveled a look at me that told me that I needed to understand this part, that this was the most important thing. “It’s why I’ll never stop trying to get him back. Never. If I lose this time, I’ll try again. I won’t let Gideon think that I would settle for anything when it comes to being his father.”

  I’d come here to return the folder and reiterate my decision not to assist with his case but now I wasn’t so sure. He was the same Judah I’d loved years ago, a little rough around the edges but his heart was still the same, strong and immovable. I knew what he’d overcome to get here and now that I’d met Gideon I understood what he was fighting for.

  My decision was made the minute I’d walked into his house and met his son. It had just taken me all this time to figure it out. “I know you won’t stop Judah and I’d like the chance to help you, if you still want my help.”

  5

  Adam

  I should have gone home hours ago.

  It was late. Gideon’s foster parents had picked him up almost an hour ago and Oliver and Gareth had taken off for their hotel, promising to return tomorrow to help Judah work on the deck. But I was still here, standing in awe in the middle of Judah’s workshop.

  The pieces were amazing. Large, solid structures built of all different kinds of wood. I had no idea what kinds of wood but each one seemed to be perfect for the chair or cabinet or bed or bench that Judah had created out of them. Each piece hummed with its own energy, vibrated with power that came from the raw materials and the man who’d lovingly crafted them into objects that would be loved, and used, and cherished. I moved closer to them and reached out a hand to touch, shooting a glance at Judah for permission.

  “You can touch them. They won’t break,” he said, his voice a low amused rumble that faded when he dipped his head and went back to work on the piece sitting in the middle of the space.

  They were cool to the touch, smoothed out to the slickness of glass with intricate carvings perfectly placed in spots that made them appear to hold secret treasures. The quiet, solid beauty of the cabinets, beds, and tables reminded me of the man who had created them. Judah was a man of few words, someone who let his actions speak for him and his woodwork was a testament to who he was on the inside.

  “How did you learn to do this?” I asked, moving to examine a bench carved to look like it had erupted out of a fallen tree.

  “There was a program in prison. I had to learn a trade and I was looking to keep busy. I started out helping to make benches and things for the state parks and the guy who ran the program thought I was good at it and he kept teaching me more and more things.” I turned to him, catching his glance as he used a plane to even out a piece of wood. He dropped his eyes back to project but kept talking, affection and a hint of pride coating his words. “Part of the reason I liked this place was because it had space for a workshop. I could continue what I loved and make a little extra money on the side.”

  “Do you sell a lot of pieces?”

  “I do. Right now, I’m working on a dozen benches for the courtyard at Stone Child College.” He chuckled. “It will give us all a place to sit in between classes and they are giving me a credit on my tuition.”

  “You’ve got another year?” I asked, moving onto another piece, a set of chairs. Each one was unified in design but had details that made each of them completely unique. Judah was crazy talented.

  “You know I do,” he said, his tone even. “Are we acting like you haven’t read my entire file and know everything about me, including my favorite cereal?”

  “Yes, we are. We’re trying to get to know each other . . . again,” I moved over to the piece he was working on and leaned against it. I had a better view of his face from this angle. “And unless it’s changed from when you were seventeen, your favorite cereal is Frosted Flakes.”

  He chuckled and nodded his head in acknowledgement. “And you still like Cap’n Crunch?”

  “I do.” I laughed, irrationally delighted that he remembered. “But I usually have oatmeal for breakfast these days.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “It really is.”

  The air was electrified between us and it felt like when we were first together. Back when the fact that we’d learned the smallest thing about each other was like winning the lottery and being together like heaven on earth. I hadn’t felt that before or since.

  I watched him work, admiring the strength in his hands as they manipulated the wood into something beautiful. His hair was pulled back but strands of it had worked loose and fell over his face when he leaned over, giving me only glimpses of his high cheekbones and long lashes. He paused what he was doing and caught me staring.

  Judah shifted, putting down the tool and leaning against the table. “Adam, I’m sorry for how we . . . what I did.”

  I reeled back a little, unprepared for the apology. I shook my head in denial but he kept talking.

  “I broke up with you because I knew you were going places that I couldn’t go. You were so smart and I was a mess. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

  “You told me that you didn’t love me, Jude.” I didn’t bother to hide the hurt in my voice. Anything that could still cut me to the quick with just a memory was going to be impossible to hide. “You looked at me and told me that everything we’d felt had been a lie.”

  “I know,” he said, moving around the edge of table to stand next to me. Unlike the time we were discussing, we now stood eye-to-eye, boys replaced by men. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought you would stay, miss out on everything you’d earned if I was still in your life.”

  “You did?” My voice was now etched with anger, this discussion bringing all of those feelings back to life. My helplessness. My hurt. My fury. “And how did you come to that conclusion without talking to me?”

  Judah cocked his head to the side just a little bit, his eyes full of confusion at my question. His voice was low and careful when he answered me. “Because I would have given up everything to keep you.”

  Judah’s words gut punched me, rammed into my chest and made me gasp for breath. I stared at him, the silence stretching out between us as the impact of what he’d said settled low in my belly in a warm tide of awareness and arousal. This was dangerous territory for both of us.

  Judah stared at me, his gaze roaming all over my face, clearly trying to gauge my reaction to his words. His eyes were eating me alive, visually caressing my face and my body like they were still his and I realized that I wanted him to possess me, to make me his again. Judah was looking at me like there was no person or thing on this planet that would get between us if he decided to come for me. But what he didn’t understand was that I would give him everything. Surrender. Total and complete.

  “You were right,” I whispered into the silence between us. “I would have given up everything to stay with you, Jude. Everything.
”

  Judah took another step towards me and it closed the gap between our bodies. Chests and thighs brushed, breaths commingled, and the spicy scent of our arousal spiked the air around us. He stared at my mouth and I’m was scared shitless because if he did this, if I let him, it might be the decision that changed my life forever. It was like he read my mind.

  “My sponsor in prison said that second chances were gifts of grace. That wasting them was the ultimate insult to the universe,” Judah murmured.

  I nodded, feeling the truth of what he said down in my marrow. This might not be the smartest decision but it wasn’t one that we could squander because we were afraid.

  “I want you to kiss me,” I said, desire making every word slick-sweet and rough.

  “I know.” Judah growled, using the strength and heft of his body to move me backwards, his large hands on my hips to guide me. He moved us and I allowed it until I felt the solid heft of the wall against my back.

  Judah lifted both of his hands, his fingers slowly skimming up my body until his palms curled around the back of my neck, twisting in the hair at my nape and lightly rubbing against my skin until goosebumps made me shiver. His lips tilted up in a sexy, wolfish grin and then he pressed against me and tilted my face to give him total access to my mouth.

  He tasted of sex and need and deep-seated longing and I opened to him immediately. I wasn’t going to hold anything back, this kiss was making up for all of the kisses we’d lost over the years. Judah’s words echoed in my mind, this was a gift and I wasn’t going to squander it.

  A moan, deep and raw, broke the silence and I realized it was me. My reaction spurred on Judah and he deepened our kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, his teeth nipping at my lips. I looped my arms around his neck, pulling our bodies closer together from thigh to chest. He was hard against me, every muscle tense with his own desire and longing.

  Judah broke off the kiss and looked down at me, his dark eyes now black with his need. “Adam,” he groaned, stroking my cock through my jeans and pressing our foreheads together.

  He said my name like it was a prayer or a question but either way I was in.

  I nodded and he leaned in again, taking my mouth with his.

  6

  Judah

  He tasted better than I remembered.

  Adam hung on to me, grinding our crotches together in a desperate search for the best kind of friction. I broke the kiss, dipping my head lower to scrape my teeth against his jaw, his neck, nipping and licking and sucking the salty, sexy taste of his skin.

  This wasn’t enough for Adam. He groaned and pulled my mouth back to his, standing up on tiptoe and wrapping one leg around my hips to get a better angle. Adam was killing me, making me hungrier with every one of his moans, with every whimper of need vibrating between us.

  “I fucking need to touch you, Adam,” I murmured against his mouth, my hands searching for any expanse of skin. I wanted to feel him, soak in his warmth, claim his surrender as mine. It had been too long since I’d been with anyone but it felt like a lifetime since I’d been with this man. “Please, can I touch you?”

  “Yes,” he said, his hands leaving their loop around my neck to unfasten first the button and then the zipper on his jeans.

  I reached down, pushing his jeans down to expose the round, sweet globes of his ass and his hard, hot cock. I didn’t know where to touch first, I was so hungry for him. I wanted to fuck him, to bury myself deep in his body, to stretch his hole wide but it had been too long and I was too needy, too greedy to trust myself. But I would make this good for him, amazing for him.

  Maintaining eye contact with him, I lifted my right hand to my mouth and licked a stripe of moisture across the palm. Then I reached down and grabbed his dick, spreading the pre-cum pooling on the tip along the length of him, starting a slow stroke designed to drive him crazy.

  “Fuck, Jude,” Adam moaned, his breaths matched my own in their ragged pants and stutters. “Kiss me.”

  I could never deny him when he begged me like that. That had not changed in the years that had passed between us. Our earlier kisses had been needy but measured but now they were hungry, brutal, designed to have us both coming sooner rather than later.

  I loved it. I loved that he needed me as much as I needed him.

  He broke off the kiss, trailing his mouth across my jaw this time, down my neck. I shivered, the tremors increased when I felt his hands at my own crotch, my own button, my own zipper. Adam pushed my jeans down, his rough hands hot and sure on my cock. I didn’t wait for him to begin stroking me, I fucked up into his grip, snapping my hips in search of the perfect pleasure. Adam adjusted his grip, encasing both of our cocks in his grip, taking over the stroke and the rhythm.

  Yes. Fuck. Yes.

  I shifted us both against the wall, stepped deeper into the gap between Adam’s thighs and explored his exposed body with my hands. I knew my work-worn hands were rough against the smooth, hot skin of his back as I pushed up his shirt and tracked every gorgeous inch of him. Adam didn’t seem to mind the callouses or the way my skin skimmed and snagged against his own, instead he arched into my touch on a moan, and spread his legs, hiking them up higher around my hips.

  The move spread the cheeks of his ass and I took that invitation and moved my hand lower, my thick, blunt fingers exploring the crack and underneath to the sensitive, hot skin of his taint.

  Adam broke the kiss on a groan of my name, his head fell backwards to thud against the wall, the sound a sharp echo in the silence of my workshop. We were both sweating, skin damp and the air was thick with the scents of wood and male sex.

  I moved my fingers higher again on his crack, finding his hot pucker of skin. I tapped on his hole and Adam gasped, “Fuck Judah, come on. Get inside me.”

  He stared at me, eyes wild with need and dark with sin. They flickered shut when I pressed my fingers inside his mouth. He was breathing hard through his nose, the sound of his labored and desperate inhale and exhale made me harder by the minute.

  “Get them wet, Adam. If you want me to fuck you, then get them wet.”

  He groaned, sucking sloppily on my digits until they were slick with his spit. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best I could do for right now.

  I returned my fingers to his hole and pressed one against his entrance, pushing inside the tight muscle that guarded his inner heat. He was tight, body clenching around me in a move that dragged a groan of pleasured pain from both of us. My cock was hard, hot and ramrod stiff against my belly and I could feel the slick of my own precum on my skin.

  Adam used his body weight to bear down on my finger and drove me deeper into his hot, slick heat. I took the hint and stroked inside him, aiming pressure against his prostate.

  “Another one. I can take it,” Adam demanded. “I want you to stretch me, Jude. Do it. I need it.”

  “Only because you beg so nicely,” I answered, pressing another finger inside him alongside the first. We both groaned at the tightness of it, the sweet surrender of his body to whatever I wanted from him. He’d always been like this, always loved to be fucked and I loved to fuck him.

  “Do you remember the first time I fucked you, Adam?” I murmured against his ear, taking a moment to lick a drop of sweat off his skin. Delicious. Salty. Sweet. “It was at my house. My dad was gone and we were on my bed and you were on your stomach, offering up your ass to me so sweetly. You were so fucking tight and hot and I thought I was going to die with the way you surrounded my cock.”

  At my words, Adam moved beneath me, his body joining the slow rhythm I’d set with my fingers sliding in and out of his body. With each pass I stroked against his prostate and he shook against me.

  I continued my dirty walk down memory lane. “I’d spent an hour eating your ass to get you ready. I wanted it to be good for and your taste was on my lips, my tongue. I was so fucking gone that all I could do was fuck you, hard and deep and over and over and try not to come.”

  “Y
ou were so big and it hurt but in the best way. I never wanted you to stop,” Adam gasped out between groans of pleasure, his fingers digging into my shoulders.

  He was pressed against my body, our cocks aligned to rub against each other with each thrust of our hips, the pre-cum leaking from our slits making the glide of flesh on flesh nothing but amazing friction.

  I couldn’t stop my mind from going back to that first time so many years ago. “I was holding on, trying to draw it out and I did fine until you got up on your hands and knees and slammed back into me with each thrust. I looked down and saw my cock splitting you open, the skin of your who stretched tight and I was gone. You fucking wrung every drop of come out of me.”

  “Fuck, Jude,” Adam rode my fingers, his movements almost violent as he used every inch of leverage he had to take what he wanted, what he needed.

  “Just take it baby,” I purred, shifting back enough to watch him, to stare into his pleasure-soaked eyes. “Take what you fucking want from me. All I want is to watch you come, use me. Anything you need, you know I’ll give it to you.”

  He whimpered, his body going rigid beneath me. His body sucked me in as he came, so tight that pain shot through my fingers as his wet, hot seed coated my belly.

  The sea-salt smell of his come took me to the edge and the sharp pain on my fingers pushed me over. My own eyes snapped shut as pleasure tightened my balls and wet, hot, slick come erupted from my cock and slid down the shaft. The edgy friction between our bodies quickly transformed into a liquid slide of pleasure that spiraled over and over until our skin was too sensitive to sustain it any longer.

  I kissed him, this joining of our mouths a gentle brush of lips and strokes of tongues as we untangled ourselves from each other. I pulled back but Adam wrapped his large hand around the back of my neck and pulled me back in for one last kiss, one that was deeper, hotter and wetter.