Carrying her down the hall, I press her back against her door once we arrive and taste the soft flesh of her neck.
“Keys, Love,” I whisper, my lips pressed against her skin.
“What?”
“Your keys,” I say, my voice low. “I can’t wait another minute. I have to have you right fucking now.”
She slides down my body, her back still pressed against the door, and when her feet reach the ground, she digs into her pocket and retrieves her key. While she works the lock, I wrap my hands around her waist, fingers teasing at the waistband of her jeans as she squirms against me.
A decade later, we’re finally inside and all bets are off.
Slamming the door behind me, I follow Love as she walks backward toward her room, peeling her shirt over her head and tossing it aside, followed by her black lace bra. By the time she works the button of her jeans, we’ve reached the doorway.
By the time she backs into the bed, she’s completely naked, her body on full display like the work of fucking art that it is.
Love slides onto the center of the bed, lying on her back, and I unfasten my jeans and slide them down before climbing over her and spreading her thighs. Running my fingertips along her delicate seam, I tease and circle before lowering myself to get a taste.
She’s sweet and soft, wet for me, and hot to the touch, and my God, she’s all mine.
When I’ve had my fill and she’s breathless and staggering on the edge of a long overdue climax, I grab a rubber from her nightstand where we used to keep them and climb over her again, running my palm along her outer thigh.
Love reaches for me, tracing the peaks and valleys along my abs before digging her nails into the flesh on my hips and pushing me against her.
She grinds against me like the tease she loves to be, and my cock throbs. Slicked in her arousal, I reach down, gripping my aching cock and teasing her clit until she squirms beneath me and begs for the real thing.
Grabbing the rubber beside us, I rip the packet between my teeth and slide it down before lifting her legs over my shoulders. Love’s breathless sighs turn into moans the second I enter her, filling her to the hilt with every inch of me.
I’m not used to being so animalistic with her, but that wild look in her golden gaze tells me she doesn’t mind a bit. I think we both needed to get this out of our system … we need one night of hair-pulling, clothes-ripping, lip-biting sex.
Plunging my length into her again and again, faster and harder, I hold her thighs and drive myself deeper, steadying my rhythm as I watch for the rake of her teeth against her lips—her tell. A moment later, Love’s hips buck against my thrusts as she comes, and I lose myself in my own release.
Collapsing beside her, our bodies hot and sticky, I brush the hair from her eyes before tracing her swollen mouth with my thumb.
“I missed that so much,” she said, exhaling as if it was some secret she’d been harboring.
“You have no idea,” I say, leaning in to steal a kiss.
“But,” she says, pulling away. Her hair spills down her shoulder. “I have one request.”
“Anything.”
“After tonight … after we do what we’re going to do … can we take things slow?” she asks, one brow higher than the other. “I want to go slow. I want to enjoy this.”
My mouth lifts in one corner as I drink in her beautiful glow in the warm daylight that filters through her window.
“We’ll go as slow as you want. I’ve got all the time in the world.” Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do … I’ll do it.
Love slides closer, cozying beneath my arm and pressing her cheek against my racing heart.
“Jude?”
“Yeah?”
“How’d you get in the building earlier … I thought you were blacklisted?” she asks.
Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through her hair and smirk. “I did some work for Raymond last month. Installed new faucets in his bathroom and kitchen and replaced a p-trap. He owed me a favor. I called it in.”
“Wow.” She laughs through her nose, tracing her nails down the center of my chest. “Wait … so are you a plumber?”
“I am.”
Love sits up on her elbow studying me.
“Is … that a problem?” I ask.
Her brows knit, and I can’t tell if she’s thinking or if she’s angry.
“No,” she says a moment later, biting her lip until it grows pinker. “I think it’s really freaking sexy that you can fix things around the house.”
“You do?”
Love nods.
“Did I tell you I was a mechanic in the Army back in the day?” I add.
“Staaahp!” Her eyes roll to the back of her head. “That’s so damn hot.”
I start to tell her about all the other things I can fix … radios, guitars, small kitchen appliances … but she shuts me up with a kiss, her lips hot like fire against mine.
A second later, she’s climbing over me, straddling my hips, her wetness teasing my growing hardness with a slow grind. “Think I’m ready for an encore, Jude Warner.”
“Anything you want.”
I’d give this girl the world if she asked.
Epilogue
Jude
* * *
One Year Later
* * *
I thought a trip home would be a nice distraction for her, so I booked our flights and surprised her on a random Wednesday. Just so happened to be her mom’s birthday and Cameo’s baby shower, so it all worked out.
Love’s phone has been blowing up the past few weeks as Hunter awaits arraignment for his spousal support fraud charges. The media is dying to hear what she has to say, but she won’t give them a single soundbite, always opting with a tried-and-true, “No comment.”
The papers have been blasting him, painting him in a horrible light with a side of the most unflattering pictures they can dig up on the bastard. He looks like a deer in headlights in every one of them, always putting his hands out as he makes his way to his limousine from whatever chi chi eatery he still frequents.
The board at Blue Stream Records wasted no time voting him out. That kind of publicity could bankrupt them, because all their musical acts would utilize the clause in their contracts specifically linked to bad behavior on either side.
Personally, I think it’s fucking hilarious.
And all of this because he couldn’t bear to part with a small fraction of his riches. I don’t even want to guess what he’s spending on legal fees right now.
Some news outlets are speculating that his net worth is plummeting by the second, though I’m not sure where they’re getting that information. And Love isn’t the slightest bit worried. She has more than enough set aside and more than enough left over from the past year to keep Agenda W flourishing.
Thank God no one’s come looking for me yet. Love’s attorney managed to negotiate to get me immunity for testifying against him. So far, my name hasn’t come up yet, but if this goes to trial, there’s a chance it could.
Love assures me it’s a non-issue for her.
Three nights ago, we arrived in Sweet Water. Yesterday was cake and ice cream. The day before that was Cameo’s baby shower since she and Bob are expecting a little girl any day now. Today we’ve spent the morning ambling around town, stopping into quaint shops and little cafes where everyone seems to know exactly who Love is. Their faces light the second they see her come in, and they all try to talk her ear off.