My hand slapped over my mouth as a garbled moan left it, and my legs tried to squeeze Jude’s beautiful head.
I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes until I opened them to find him gazing down at me once more. “You’re fucking delicious.”
I was breathing as though I’d just ran a half marathon. His eyes darted to my breasts, and he dropped low to capture a beaded nipple, dampening the cotton of my tank with his mouth.
That was nice and all—no, it was fucking incredible—but not as good as kissing him. And I so desperately wanted to kiss him, especially after the gift he’d just bestowed on me.
So I did. I grabbed his head and brought it to mine, my taste buds exploding with the taste of myself and his toxic, drugging flavor. I was on his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and it was heady enough that spasms erupted between my legs.
Jude pulled away, breathing heavy with his forehead scrunched. “I just ate you.”
I felt my own crinkle. “So?”
His eyes widened, and then he grinned. “Chicks usually don’t dig being kissed afterward.”
I wasn’t aware he’d been with anyone other than Marnie, and I doubted he had. Which meant she was an idiot.
We already knew that.
“Don’t assume you know me just because I’m inexperienced.”
A brow rose. “Oh?”
I moved his mouth back to mine, kissing each corner of it before sucking on his lower lip. “I might not know much, but I already know if it involves you, I’m going to love it.”
He stiffened for a heartbeat, and I heard him swallow before he rasped to my mouth, “You’re going to be my ruination, Red.”
We both knew that wasn’t true.
We both knew he’d be mine instead.
He rolled, taking me with him and running his hands down my sides, his mouth fused to mine. Desperate and growling low, he sucked, and he swiped, and he stole brand new pieces of me I never knew existed with every passing moment.
Gripping my ass, he pressed up into me, rocking my damp center over the bulging, hot member inside his briefs.
Threading his fingers into my hair, he whispered into my mouth, “What are you afraid of, pretty Red?”
He flipped me to my back again as I asked, breathless, “Why do you want to know that?”
His hands on my breasts squeezed while his lips danced over the skin beneath them. “Everyone’s afraid of something. Multiple somethings, usually.” His tongue slid down my stomach, and I lost my vision as the room began to swirl once more. “Tell me.”
“Moths,” I panted when he reached my mound, needing him to both stop and drop lower.
“Moths?” he repeated, humor lightening his voice.
“Yes,” I said, swallowing as the memory of my dad and I camping out in the backyard closed in to break the magic. We’d lasted until two in the morning, and then something had landed upon my cheek, and I’d woken with a scream.
My dad had snorted, coming awake with a start before leaping to his feet and almost knocking the tent over due to his height. I’d screamed, pointing at the offending giant fluttering over the lantern between our sleeping bags, and he’d laughed, rubbing his tired eyes before leaving the tent.
He’d returned minutes later with a container to trap it in, but I was a shaking, shivering, crying mess. “It’s only a moth, Cherub,” he’d said.
But it was furry and huge and had freaky looking patterns etched upon its wings. Don’t even get me started about the grotesque… “Fern.”
The terse use of my name brought me back. Jude sat beside me with his brows lowered.
“What happened?”
“You were staring at the ceiling, completely frozen.”
I clutched his sheets over my lower half, self-conscious and cold. “Oh,” I whispered. “Sorry.”
Jude was quiet for a minute, but I couldn’t look at him.
He was going to kick me out, call me crazier than thou, and never lay eyes on me again.
An idea sprang to life, and I sat up, throwing him a grin I hoped was believable. “Can I see you?”
Jude stared at me with cool eyes, and I knew the answer would be no before he smirked. Rising from the bed, he crossed the room. “Playtime’s over, Red. Be gone when I get back.”
The bathroom door closed.
Dismissed.
Something stabbed at my sternum, but I didn’t allow it entry. Instead, I collected my panties and shorts and willed my eyes not to well as I stood and tugged them on.
His phone lit up on the nightstand, and I couldn’t help myself. I walked closer to take a look.
Marnie: I hope you’ve sobered up. I’m still pissed as hell, Jude. Call me when you learn how to grovel.
Pissed as hell? I wondered what he did as I eyed the books on his nightstand. There were three, and I memorized the titles and the placement of the bookmarks before the first part of Marnie’s text slammed home.
My head swung to the bathroom door, the sound of running water coming from the other side.
He was drunk? He hadn’t seemed drunk, and I hadn’t tasted alcohol. I’d tasted spearmint and tea. That wasn’t good enough to stop the sinking that had already been taking place from wobbling my lips.
I brushed a stray tear from beneath my eye, inwardly berating myself for the show of weakness, even though he couldn’t see. He was a shark, and the second he scented blood, he’d come looking for something to eat.
With one last glance back at his books, the rumpled sheets, and the too-tidy spines and football trophies upon the sprawling shelves, I walked out the same way I’d come.
Jude
Marnie was standing out the front of school Monday morning, leaning against one of two black rearing horse statues by the stairs. “I’m still waiting for that apology.”
“You’ll be waiting for the rest of your life,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying.
“Jude?” she said, aghast as she followed me.
I swept between a couple, enjoying their annoyance, and lifted my chin at Adam, the most recent failure on our football team.
Marnie’s tiny hand grabbed my wrist before Gary could harass me. Glancing around, I sneered at the sets of eyes pinned on us, prompting them to look away.
“Seriously?” she said. “You called me a motherfucker.”
“I was talking about your car, and you fucking hit me.” I screwed around with my tie, then gave up and left it undone around my neck. “Like twenty-one times, but who’s counting.”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “Oh, yeah.” With a nod, as if she’d decided something, she then offered me a grim smile. “Sorry. Guess I got mad.”
Guess she got mad.
For the love of fuck. I needed a coffee with a shot of bourbon, maybe a line of coke. Once again, I should’ve stayed home, but no great deed should go unwitnessed. Said deed was the reason my eyeballs felt like sandpaper, and for the ache in my limbs.
I hadn’t slept since Saturday night. Even then, Henry had woken with a nightmare, the first one that week, but it made up for it by keeping him awake until four in the morning.
“Sure,” I finally conceded. “Let’s do this some other time. I have a nap waiting for me in bio.”