Jude’s brows furrowed. “Why does that matter?”
“Because more than anyone, I think Smokey and Nate need that closure. I’m hoping I get time to convince Jax and Reaver that Smokey should be the one to take him out.” Kicks rubbed at his eye, then dropped his hand to the cushion between them and slid his fingers until they touched Jude’s. “I don’t want to talk about this shit with you, though. You don’t need this.”
Jude stared at him a long time. “I’m still working on how to reconcile who I am with…all of this,” he admitted. “I’ve spent most of my life teaching others that life is precious. All life.” He stopped and gave a small, wry grin. “Almost all life.”
Kicks adored how honest he was. “So, like I said…”
Jude shook his head, stopping his words. “I don’t want you to hide the pieces of who you are from me unless you have to. I can’t fully exist here if I can’t give you all of me. And if I can’t take all of you.”
Kicks’ heart sped up in fear, because it almost sounded like he was saying he wasn’t sure he could be here with him for good. “Are you…”
Jude leaned in and kissed him, long and slow and hot and perfect. He felt Jude’s fingers brush his cheeks, then trail down to curl around the back of his neck, and he heard him breathe in deep. “I just need time, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Kicks shuddered with relief, then grabbed Jude and gently eased him over his lap. His legs stretched out to protect his knee, and it wasn’t ideal, but the weight of him felt perfect.
He kissed Jude again, in a slow, lazy way with no destination. He realized he was utterly and completely content to do this. He wanted more—of course, he wanted more. He wanted to be stripped down and owned. But he also was happy to get absolutely and utterly lost in Jude’s quiet, unassuming control.
21
Jude had convinced himself that Emilio’s homecoming was going to be hot, heavy, and consuming. It had only been two days, but it felt like two weeks. The visceral relief of looking up and seeing him in the doorway was enough to bring him to his knees, if he hadn’t already been on his back, and the press of his lips was everything Jude had imagined it to be.
Only. It wasn’t. Not exactly. Emilio was clearly exhausted, hungry, and a little on edge. He kissed Jude with a desperation that had only a little bit to do with how much he wanted the other man, but he assumed the rest was a relief to have come home to find everything as it was supposed to be.
A part of him had spent the time that Emilio was gone imagining the other man walking through the door and telling him that none of this was worth it. He was a private sort of person, and he realized how much when Aaron told him how often Emilio let people in his house. Which was essentially never. Even when he had Maddie over, Gunner and Logan never stayed long.
He spent time with his brothers in common spaces for the club, but never in his own.
He couldn’t imagine why Emilio would want to keep him around, but he saw it in the other man’s eyes when their gazes locked after their dinner: Emilio wanted him. He wanted him there.
So instead of pinning him down and making him beg, Jude simply pressed their bodies together and traded lazy kisses, knowing that they’d make up for the damn-near hysterical desire a little bit later. Maybe even that night, once they were settled in bed. For the evening, just being together was enough.
He could feel Emilio’s exhaustion pulling at him. Glancing at the clock, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to the soft thumping of the man’s pulse. “It’s just gone nine, love.”
Snorting, Emilio turned his head, digging his fingers into Jude’s hair as he kissed him. “Does that make us old men?”
“If you want to think that,” Jude said with a grin, “but these old bones can still make you beg for it.”
“Fuck,” Emilio breathed out. “You think so?”
Jude pushed to his feet, then extended a hand, though he was careful of his knee as Emilio took it. “Do you want to put me to the test?”
He knew he wasn’t really going to be able to last. He’d been dreaming about Emilio since he left—thinking about sinking deep inside him, pulsing, spilling. He’d entertained several fantasies—some he knew he’d never be brave enough to try, but many he knew the other man would be willing to submit to—and he was happy to start now.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Get yourself cleaned out for me,” Jude said after only a moment of thought. “I want to taste you.”
Emilio’s eyes widened, and he didn’t say anything, but there was a hitch in his step as he turned and walked out of the room. Jude took the time to stack all the dishes and tidy up, and when he heard the water turn off, he made his way back to the bedroom. His knee was aching a little, but he wouldn’t need to support his weight for this. He could make Emilio ride his face if he really wanted, before riding his cock. He could make him sit on it and not move while he stroked himself to the very edge, not letting himself tumble over.
He could do many things, each of them almost desperately enticing. They wouldn’t last past the first, but there was tomorrow.
And then tomorrow. And every single sunrise and sunset they were allowed to keep.
His fingers were a little stiff as he worked the hem of his shirt over his head, and he was grateful he was still in sweats as they pooled at his feet. He stared down at the scars on his knee. The surgery had been laparoscopic, and they were just small dots that would eventually fade. There would be little more than the memory of pain one day, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
For now, though, his injury was very present. He eased himself on the bed with more care than he normally would have done, then shifted to the pillows and placed his arms behind his head as he waited. Emilio was taking his time, and Jude appreciated it when he eventually sauntered out entirely naked, his cock mostly hard as it hung fat and dark between his legs.
He had a very Spanish look about him—with his lightly tanned skin and dusky nipples and dark hair from chest to groin. He was cut in all the right ways, and the ink across his chest and over his shoulders added to everything that made him absolutely beautiful.
Emilio offered him a tentative smile as he approached the bed, almost like he was unsure what Jude wanted, and Jude let him simmer in the moment before he spoke. He watched as Emilio’s chest rose and fell with his breath, the way there was a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his fingers twitched at his sides. He’d taken his eye out, and his lid was low, lashes fanning over his cheeks. They were long, and Jude felt a sudden urge to pull him down to kiss them.
“I love your body,” he murmured.
A flush immediately rose over Emilio’s chest, and he glanced away for a second. “It ain’t much.”
“Oh, love. It’s everything.” Jude pushed himself to sit, then held out both hands, and Emilio let himself be positioned over his thighs. Jude ran his hands from knees to groin, pushing his fingers in, only letting up when Emilio squirmed like he was ticklish. “As impractical as it is, I want to spend a single day in bed proving that to every inch of you.”
Emilio swallowed thickly. “I…maybe. Yeah.”