“Tell your husband I said hello.”
“I will.”
We head for the restaurant’s exit, making small talk as I wait for my Uber. As soon as it pulls up, I say goodbye to Andre and slide into the sedan.
My heart pounds with anticipation. Jude might be in my room right now. Even after all these years, nothing gets me going like the way he looks at me when I walk into a room. His gaze is always dark and loaded with desire. I’ve never seen him look at any other woman that way.
I shouldn’t have left like I did, though I’m not sure I’m ready to admit it. And if I know my husband as well as I think I do, he intends to make me pay for it in my hotel room tonight.
He puts up with my defiance outside the bedroom, though it drives him crazy at times. But when the bedroom door closes, he’s in complete control of me.
Though he knows I like it, I’m not sure he knows justhow much. My stomach is spinning with excitement and anticipation over the thought of his hands on me.
Touching me.
Teasing me.
Owning me.
We never gave up our makeup sex. We just redefined it.
6
Jude
I sleep on the plane,getting a few hours of shut-eye before touching down in DC. Tyson had a shit fit when I told him I was leaving for a bit, and he tried to stop me, even though he knew he couldn’t. No events on the schedule until tomorrow night, and at the moment, there was nothing more important than my marriage.
Julia, Reagan’s assistant, came through. Not only did she give me the name and location of her hotel, she had my name added to the reservation, so I could swipe a key from the front desk. When I opened the door, Reagan wasn’t in there, probably busy talking up some politician over dinner, but she knew I’d be waiting.
I make myself comfortable, kicking off my shoes and loosening my tie before stretching out across the bed. Staring at the door, I wait for what seems like hours, but is only minutes before Reagan walks in.
“Jude,” she says, dropping her purse to the floor and walking quickly in my direction.
I slide down, swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and wrap my arms around her waist. “I’ve missed you,” I tell her as I press my face against her stomach and inhale her scent. I slip my hand underneath her shirt, resting my hand on the small of her back as I peer up into her blue eyes. “I’m sorry I left like that.”
Reagan tangles her fingers in my hair and smiles down at me. “I’m sorry for everything too. I shouldn’t have been so pissed and pushy.”
I laugh, shaking my head as my hand slides down her back and cups her ass. “You don’t know how not to be pushy. It’s in your nature.”
She sighs and leans forward, pressing her lips to mine. The kiss is soft and gentler than I expect after everything that’s happened in the last forty-eight hours. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Jude,” she whispers as she stares into my eyes.
I cup her cheek in my hand, peering up at her with my other hand still resting on her ass. “I don’t want to fight either, love. I’ve been greedy with your time, and you need to focus on your work more.”
We stay like that, staring at each other without saying another word for a few seconds. The air in the room is thick as I slide the zipper on her skirt down slowly, letting the metal catch on every tooth, building the anticipation. Reagan and I are always explosive in the bedroom. It’s the one place we never argue.
She steps out of her skirt as soon as the material hits the carpet. My breath hitches at the sight of my favorite black lace panties, and my cock hardens. “Were you expecting company?” I ask, looping my finger under the edge of the delicate material resting on her hip and raise an eyebrow.
“No.” She raises her chin. “I wanted to feel sexy tonight. I needed to feel more like myself to get through this meeting.”
“Who was the lucky person?” I’m jealous when I shouldn’t be. Whoever she met with didn’t see what she had on underneath her clothes, but I still didn’t like it.
“Andre.”
Every ounce of jealousy or annoyance I have disappears at the mention of his name. He’s the last man in the world I have to worry about. Reagan can barely stand his presence, and even on our worse day, he doesn’t stand a chance of seeing her panties.
“I don’t like it,” I say, because no matter what she says, she likes when I’m a little jealous. She likes when I remind her she’s mine, proving to her there’s no one else in the world who doesitfor me except her.
She steps backward, biting her lip and hiding her small smile as her fingers work the buttons of her blouse. Her eyes are on me as she pushes open her blouse, shrugging the silk material over her shoulders and fully exposing her breasts. I reach out, needing to touch her, but she steps back and out of my grasp.
