A thrill sizzled down the backs of her legs at the low rasp of his tone. She took a step closer to him. “No. I came over here to tell you about my mom's suspicions and to see you again. If I’m making you crazy, that’s just a side benefit.” She lifted her chin challengingly.
“You're making me crazy.”
“Good. I’m not afraid to see the lid blow off all that towering control of yours.” Her voice was slightly winded, as if she'd been running instead of simply standing near him. “Do you want to kiss me? Because I would very much like to kiss you.”
His irises went smoky, but he remained still.
“How about you be honest,” she whispered, “and tell me what you're afraid of?”
“You. Gemma.”
“You're afraid of me? I’m sunshine and fun. Ask anyone.”
“Sunshine and fun with the power to destroy me.”
She couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs. Her senses were like pinwheel fireworks. “I won't destroy you.”
“You already have.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Then his hands were in her hair, and he was kissing her passionately. No preamble. No warming up to it.
But, of course, the last two months had been preamble. This entire conversation had been preamble. He had her running a temperature of one hundred and fifty.
She drank in the textures of his clothes, his hair, his mouth, the sound of his breathing. All of that and more flooded into her—a feast. With it came satisfaction and desire and something more . . . a deep sense offit. She fit with him.
They were not strangers. They'd spent many hours together or talking over the phone. Usually she let physical combustion lead the way into romances. This time, she'd put the horse before the cart and gotten to know him. He was the reliable second son. The one who picked up the broken pieces of things his family had shattered. The one full of goodness and duty. Firmly ethical.
Her renegade soul had come to appreciate who he was.
Through their kiss, he showed her the depths of what he felt for her. His touch communicated intimacy and tenderness. Jude had kept everything so tightly under wraps until now. The full onslaught of him—of them—was overwhelming in the best way.
He gentled the kiss as he walked her backward until her spine came up against wall. “You're beautiful,” he murmured against her ear. Then kissed down her throat. When he straightened, he slid a lock of her hair between his fingertips.
She watched him with dumbstruck infatuation. She should be taking advantage of these seconds and using them to run her fingertips along his cheek, his neck, his shirt collar. All of it screamed for exploration. Instead, she gave a slow blink. Simply looking at him was all that she could handle.
With her red hair and outgoing personality, people often commented on how colorful she was. But it turned out that, in this pairing,hewas the vivid one. Many facets of him weren’t out there in the open. If you wanted to see Jude’s vivid facets you had to put in work, you had to dig for treasure. She was enormously glad she'd gone digging. Beneath the surface lived more emotion and passion than she would have believed.
Impatiently, she tugged his mouth back to hers.
Hard to know how long their kisses went on. She couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t get enough. For all she cared, the sun could set and rise again. Everything in the universe that mattered was right here—
His dog's bark caused Jude to startle. He pulled back, looking toward the sound. One of his hands was interlaced with hers, his other burrowed in her hair.
Mabel gave her an expression that said,Really, lady? I was trying to be tolerant but now you’ve hogged too much of his time.
“I think she's jealous,” Gemma said.
“She only barks when she wants to go outside.”
That showed how little he understood females.
He separated from her and went to let Mabel out.
Without him, she felt immediately cold and wobbly-legged. She waited impatiently for him to return and resume.
He returned but didn't resume. His hair was messy from where she'd run her fingers through it. His shirt askew. And he'd never looked more painfully desirable.
