There’s so much I’m dying to say. So many sentences forming in my head. This is soooo good. We could be so good together.
I can’t give my whole heart away, but we’ve always communicated well in bed. I can give that much. Open that far. “Can we fuck later? Right now, I want to finish like this,” I say, and it feels like serving him a piece of my soul.
Jude shudders, grabs my face. “You know the answer,” he says.
I reach for the lube I left on the nightstand, drizzle some into my palm. I rise on my knees, push his legs open, and grip his dick.
The second I touch him, he arches into my hand. “Yesssss,” he moans, thrusting into my fist.
He’s so sensual, so easy in his body. The way he gives in to pleasure is a thrill to experience. Jude turns his face to the side, bites his lip, and breathes out hard. He stays like that for a minute as I stroke him, savoring the feel of him in my hand again.
Then he pushes up on his elbows. “Get back on me,” he rasps, a sexy order.
I do as I’m told, and it feels so good as we grind and rub. But soon, lust crackles down my spine, my body warning me it’s go time.
I get a hand between us, reach for our dicks. Grasp, stroke, jerk.
He shakes his head. “My turn. I want to finish us off.” Jude swats my hand away, then works us together, his slick hand jerking us in tandem. Lust coils low in my stomach, a tight, hot knot. It gathers speed and intensity till my legs shake.
His hand flies between us. I am a ticking time bomb, and I’m going to detonate any second.
“TJ,” he growls. “I fucking want you so much.”
That’s it. That is all.
His words launch me into blissful oblivion, and I shoot all over his golden skin, groaning savagely, the world blinking off.
He’s right there with me, coming hard too.
When he lets go, I collapse onto him, our orgasms smearing together on our chests. All the evidence that past Jude and present Jude are here with me.
And maybe, just maybe, there’s a new future with Jude too.
It starts tonight, as we stay together in bed.
Only, in the morning, he’s on his phone, his eyes glued to the page.
What is he reading so intensely?
A glance at the screen gives me the answer.
He’s figured me out.
33
Just Call Me Detective
Jude
* * *
As the sun rises, I jolt awake.
His books.
Holy fuck. That’s what he’s doing. He’s playing his heroes. Last night, I had a feeling he was putting on a show for me every now and then. Certain phrases tickled my brain.
Well, two can research, TJ.
I confirmed he’s been giving me lines with a quick scan of his books on my e-reader. As he sleeps next to me, I hunt through his stories. No wonder I had déjà vu. Last night, he played Hudson in Mister Benefits with a touch of Tanner from The Size Principle. I read a few reviews of those titles—they’re considered his coolest, most alpha heroes.
I shake my head, but I’m not annoyed, per se. I’m damn curious why he’d need to do that.
A few minutes later, TJ stretches, yawns, then opens his eyes. I don’t think before I speak. I dive right in. “Have you heard this scene from Mister Benefits?” I clear my throat and read from his novel. “I had a feeling you’d want champagne, so I ordered it for you.”
TJ’s eyes go wide.
I jump ahead to the next spot I bookmarked. “Why did I get you champagne? Because I want to know how it tastes on your lips.”
TJ swallows, then mutters shit under his breath.
“Hold on, stud. I’ve got one more. Ahem. Let me put on some tunes. Then Hudson plays a moody, sexy number.”
He pushes up in bed, holds up a finger. “In my defense, that’s not a unique move during sex. A lot of people play music when it’s business time,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. That’s true, but what the fuck, TJ?”
He sits, drags a hand down his face, sighing heavily. “My heroes also always brush their teeth first thing in the morning since they hate morning breath as much as I do. So, can I please do that first?”
I laugh. “Funny, but I knew that too. That you hate morning breath.” I flash my pearly whites. “I brushed mine already.”
He gives a sheepish grin. “You remembered.”
Last night, I barely wanted to admit how much I remember. Now that I’ve learned he was secretly trying to impress me, I don’t mind admitting the truth I didn’t speak last night. “I remember a lot of things, TJ.”
He licks his lips. “Me too.”
Then, he swings out of bed, pads to the bathroom. I watch him go, admiring the curves of his strong ass. I do enjoy his devotion to the gym. A few minutes later, he returns to bed, flops down. “So, you busted me, Jude.”
I shift to my side, prop my head in my hand. “You’re not even going to protest? Try to deny it? Dance around it?”
He shrugs. “First off, I’m not a good dancer. Second, what’s the point? You figured it out.”
But I didn’t figure out the reason, and the only way to know is to ask. “Why did you do it?”
TJ stares at the ceiling for a few beats, breathes out hard. Then he looks at me. “Imagine how you’d feel if you made a deal on a bridge to see this guy again. This guy you don’t see for seven years. Don’t talk to or text for seven long years. And then boom. He reaches out, he invites you to see him, he gets you tickets for his play, and you’re like fuck yes. And you see him again after all that time. How do you think you’d act?”
I don’t have to imagine. I did the same thing he did, for all intents and purposes. I acted. “Touché,” I say, even though his fuck yes makes me feel like gold.
The intensity on his face tells me this isn’t easy for him, but he’s doing it anyway, like when he told me about his name. I give him all my focus as he talks.
“Jude, I got off that plane, and it hit me. I was seeing you. And I didn’t know how the hell to act with you. I just figured I’d act like a guy who knew what he was doing.” He scratches his jaw, shakes his head like he’s annoyed. “That sounds dumb now that I say it.”
“No, it doesn’t. Look, I didn’t know how to act with you either,” I confess, since finally, fucking finally, we’re getting somewhere. We’re getting to the truth. That’s where I hoped the bedroom would lead us. Maybe our intimacy paved the way.
“Yeah?” he asks, with hope in his voice.
“I wasn’t sure how it would be to see you,” I say, but that’s only the start of it. “I didn’t know if we’d still vibe, so I . . .” But am I ready to tell him how I felt walking into that bar? Not good enough? No, I don’t think I’ll say that. “So I tried to be cool too.”
With a smile, he shifts closer, runs his fingers through my hair. “Jude Fox,” he says, like he has a secret. “I saw you before you came into the hotel last night.”
I blink. “What do you mean? Where?”
He points to the window of his room, gesturing to the ocean beyond. “Outside the hotel. The lobby bar has a view through the glass wall by the lobby. I swear I saw you practicing lines.”