13. Brooke

THIRTEEN

brOOKE

H ow we'd ended up here again, I couldn't be sure. Some mix of lowered inhibitions and heightened desire. Though I didn't know which one outweighed the other.

Because when Jude kissed me, all of my senses amplified. No traces of slower body function to be found, only a pounding heart and tingling skin. He gripped my face like he was afraid I'd leave. Kissed me like he wouldn't have another chance.

I dug my fingertips into his shoulders, having somehow ended up on his lap, my legs on either side of his waist, and sighed into his mouth.

He seemed to like that and tunneled his fingers into my hair, gripping the strands by my scalp, holding tight, pulling slightly. Perfectly.

I moaned, and I swore I felt an appreciative rumble from his chest before he tugged on my hair again.

Because this man could take direction.

"You like that?" he rasped, not merely to turn me on, but to truly know if I liked it .

I kissed my affirmative against his lips, and one of his hands snaked over my collarbone to my throat, spanning the width, pressing gently, his thumb and index finger under my jaw, holding me. He slanted his head back, eyes boring into mine. "And this?"

I nodded, my ability to speak gone.

He kept that hand around my throat, using it to direct me to the angle he wanted, nipping and biting at my lips, keeping me close.

Me .

This was the second time we were doing this now. Him talking about another woman but ending up here, like this, with me. He wasn't scared. He didn't hesitate. He was wholly himself.

I loved and hated it.

That we had this amazing foundation, allowing us to discuss all the things we hid from everyone else and still find what we needed in each other. Yet, we were here because we wanted two different things.

Even as he wrapped one arm around my waist and the other under my butt, lifting me up when he stood from the chair to lay me on the ground, I had to remind myself that he didn't want what I wanted.

Marriage.

Family.

He was doing this for fun, for release, to forget about his anxiety for a while.

Not to say I didn't thoroughly enjoy being his playmate in this moment, but I had to remember this wasn't the same for him as it was for me. No matter that he skimmed the tip of his nose up my neck, inhaling deeply. Or how he wrapped his hands around my breasts reverently, brushing his thumbs across my nipples as his eyes shone with something that looked a lot like adoration .

We were simply two friends taking part in…sex lessons?

That idea had a giggle bubbling up my throat, and Jude canted his head back, eyebrows raised in question.

I shook my head, not wanting to give away everything I'd been thinking.

"You all right, honeybee?" he asked, and I curled my lips over my teeth.

Didn't he know? Didn't he realize what he was doing to me?

Evidently not.

He made quick work of my shorts and underwear, leaving me in only my bra and tank top, but even that felt too suffocating, so I shucked them off as well. Naked as the day I was born and on display for the world to see, I lay back on the ground. Fortunately, my land was out of the way, and the driveway alone was one hundred yards deep. No one would be able to spy how Jude's hungry eyes roved over me, how his fingers gripped my thighs, pushing them open. There was nothing and no one to witness how he licked his lips and splayed out on his stomach on the ground between my legs.

He wrapped his hands around my hips, his palms hot while the blades of grass cooled my back. "What do you like for dirty talk?"

"I don't know." I met his gaze over the length of my body, and I probably should have felt awkward that I was naked while he remained completely clothed, but I didn't.

There was nothing awkward about it.

"I've only read it in books. No one has ever done it with me," I said, and I swore his nostrils flared, but he ducked his head too quickly for me to really tell, and then his mouth was on me. He dragged his tongue up my slit, teasing and light, and I reflexively jerked my hips up at the first contact. He merely pushed me back into position, holding me down, and I didn't hate it .

Not one bit.

He dragged the flat of his tongue up me again, this time finding my clit, flicking it over and over, and I dug my fingers into his hair, loosening the bun on the top of his head.

"Tell me how it feels," he directed, his hot breath wafting over me, and I easily complied.

"Warm and soft."

He hummed against me then dragged his tongue up in long, languorous strokes.

"It feels like when I watch you lick your fork or spoon while you're eating dessert," I said, and I'd never before heard the sound he made.

He pressed his face more fully against me, his beard scraping along my innermost thighs, his jaw working up and down as he lapped at my clit.

"It feels like I've been missing out," I admitted, curving my back. He dipped his tongue inside me, but I tightened my grip on his hair, whining, "No, please, no."

He tipped his head up, eyes hooded, cheeks ruddy. "What?"

"Doesn't feel good. Need my?—"

I didn't get to finish my statement because he fastened his mouth to the bud of my sex, sucking, and I hissed out a breath. "Yes, like that."

He didn't move, didn't slow down, didn't speed up. Stayed exactly like that, flicking and sucking at the most sensitive part of me. Since I suffered with dryness, it always took me a while to orgasm, and I couldn't without stimulating my clit, but I didn't need to explain that to him. He'd already guessed.

Nor did he try to slide his fingers into me without lube. I briefly thought about reminding him of the condoms and little blue bottle we'd bought. They were still in the office, but I didn't want him leaving me to find them.

"Don't stop," I panted, circling my hips, holding his head to me. He made a noise, as if telling me he wouldn't stop, and let go of my legs to reach his hands up to my breasts, squeezing them.

I could feel the edge of an orgasm become clearer and squirmed under him, so much that he pinched my nipples, silently ordering me to stay still. But he might as well have strummed a chord on an overstrung bow for how I arched off the ground, crying out to the heavens.

"Oh god," I whimpered. "Please, please don't stop."

He doubled down, plucking at my nipples and licking at my swollen flesh until I couldn't take it anymore. My climax erupted. I squeezed my eyes shut, heat spiraling from my belly and spilling out to my arms and legs as I bucked and shook. I went so hot all over, even the sticky July air chilled my sweat-dampened skin.

Jude levered over me, placing one hand on the ground next to me while he skimmed the other up and down my side. "Okay, honeybee?"

I nodded, noticing how his hair flopped to the side, a mess from my fingers. I gave in to a drunken giggle and wiped at his mouth and beard before tugging the elastic out of his hair so it curtained either side of his face.

"I'm okay," I told him, wrapping my hands around his neck, urging him toward me to kiss his lips. I wanted to make a joke, bring us back to the place of banter and ribbing each other, but I couldn't. Couldn't bear to let go of this feeling.

He stared at me, perhaps to make sure I was indeed okay, or in search of something else, an answer to what the hell we were doing.

I didn't dare ask, fearful of putting a name to the way my chest tightened and my heart thudded a little too fast behind my rib cage. Scared he didn't feel any of that too.

Afraid to cross the Rubicon and lose my friend. My best friend.

"Are you okay?" I asked, and he nodded before reaching for my bra and shirt. He helped me sit up then retrieved my underwear and shorts.

Only once I dressed and we were both standing up did he answer. "Yeah. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Because of…" Because of what happened last time , I didn't finish. Because of how you cried. Because of how you miss your wife.

He rubbed at his tattoo. The one he'd gotten for Mira the same night I'd had the monarch butterfly inked on my ankle, a reminder that I'd survived. I'd done something really fucking hard, and I'd come out the other end.

Jude's tattoo was a physical reminder of his beloved.

And I knew I could never have anything more than this with him.

Which was why it hurt so bad when he said, "There's no one else I'd do this with besides you."

I bit the inside of my cheek and rolled my head to the side, focusing on the horizon so he couldn't see how his words affected me. I cleared my throat, forcing a smile on my face and in my voice as I turned back to him. "Yeah. I'm a real saint. Helping you learn while I get some orgasms." I met his eyes. "Tough job but somebody's got to do it."

He licked his lips and blinked a few times, craning his neck, peering around. The sky had turned purple, the sun nearly gone to bed while we'd been fooling around on the ground. "I didn't mean it like?—"

I stopped him with my hand up. "I know. I'm kidding." I closed the distance between us, trying on a bit of honesty. "Too bad you're only looking for sex. Because you're the whole package." I let out a derisive laugh. "You've set impossible standards for anyone I date."

He placed his hands on my hips, his gravelly voice like crystalized sugar. "Good. Make them all jump through hoops. They should want to if they think they deserve you. "

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "Careful. You're gonna make this hard for me."

He grunted softly and tucked his face against my neck, leaving a quick kiss there before letting go. "I should go."

"See you at the market?"

"Yup." He waved and headed to his car.

And I plopped back on a chair and lit up.