He traces his fingers up my thigh, and when he slides two of them inside me, I let out a cry of relief and pleasure.
“Fuck, baby,” he mutters. “Look how wet you are. You need this, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He kisses my neck, his lips finding the spot beneath my ear that drives me wild. Jude is the only man who has ever known my body like this. He catalogues every inch of me, his goal to make every time better than the last. I’m pretty damn lucky he’s mine.
I move my hips in time with his fingers, and when his fingertips glide over my clit, I moan with abandon.
I’m so close already. I was on the edge before he even touched me. He pulls his face from my neck and watches my expression as I come so hard I practically scream. Tears are welling in my eyes from the intensity of it as I come down from the high, panting.
“So fucking hot,” my husband says, kissing me softly. “I was fantasizing about that the whole flight home. Watching you come like that.”
I feel like I could melt into a puddle of sated satisfaction. I return his kiss, and he cups my face in one hand. Then he bends down to untie my ankles from the chest of drawers.
“Want me to make dinner now, love?” I ask.
He turns his intense expression up toward me. “Good one. As soon as these are off, you’re bending your ass over that bed. And don’t expect me to untie your hands until I’m done with you.”
And just like that, my relaxation unravels and I’m completely turned on again. My husband is finally home. And damn, did I miss him.
2
Jude
“You still haven’t toldme about your trip,” Reagan says before slurping her first sip of coffee.
I continue reading, ignoring Reagan as she stands on the other side of the kitchen island. Even after five years of marriage, talking politics with my wife causes more headaches than anything. The make-up sex afterward is always off the charts, but the days of agony and anger aren’t worth the continual strain on our relationship.
When I don’t answer right away, she curls her fingers over the top of the newspaper and pushes down. “Hey.”
I peer up, taking in her messy hair and mascara smudged under her eyes. She’s still as beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on her. “Hey,” I say, still trying to avoid anything that’s going to spoil the good mood.
She tilts her head, narrows her eyes, and slides her coffee mug onto the counter. “I’m not asking as your opponent or campaign manager, I’m asking as your wife.”
A small smile plays across my lips as I set the newspaper down on the cold granite counter. “You can’t separate the two, love.”
She leans over the counter, letting my button-down dress shirt fall open and exposing her breasts as she starts to play dirty. “Baby,” she says sweetly, trying to manipulate me. “You know that’s not true. I just want to know about myhusband’strip.” She strokes her fingers down her chest, letting the tips disappear between her cleavage as my eyes follow. “You weren’t very talkative while you were gone. Is there something I should be concerned about?”
I shake my head, eyes locked on her fabulous tits and wonder if I can distract her with my cock instead of my long itinerary. “What would you have to be concerned about?”
She traces the swell of her breasts, taunting me more. “Maybe you were with another woman.”
My gaze snaps to hers as anger zips through my veins. “Don’t be foolish,” I hiss and slide off the stool, stalking around the counter toward her. She turns as soon as I’m behind her and places her hand on my chest as I cage her in. “There’s no one else I want more than you, Reagan. Don’t play head games with me when I don’t want to discuss work.”
She curls her fingers until her fingernails bite into my skin. “I’m not playing games, Jude.”
I grab Reagan’s wrists, peeling her hands away from my chest, but I don’t let go. “You know exactly what it’s like when you’re campaigning. There’s no time to even sleep, let alone have an affair. None of this would be an issue if you would’ve just come along with me as I asked.”
She grunts, trying to pull her wrists away from my grip. “You know I can’t leave my job. I might not be running for governor, but my work is no less important.”
I move her hands around her back, bringing my face closer to hers. “I never said it was, sweetheart.”
She twists her lips in anger. She hates when I call her sweetheart. “Jude,” she hisses, pushing her chest against mine as she wiggles in my hold. “Let go of me.”
“No,” I tell her as I slide my lips along her jaw, moving toward her mouth. “You’re mine. You’re angry for no reason, and I’m not letting you go until we sort this shit out.”
“I…” She doesn’t get another word out before I cover her mouth with mine, sealing whatever she was going to say inside. Her body sways forward, melting into me as my tongue sweeps inside and tangles with hers.
