She grinds her cunt against me as she impales herself, moving faster until the orgasm crashes over us both. Her kiss softens, the strokes of her tongue growing gentler as the aftershocks rake over us.
“Thanks,” she says, leaning her forehead against mine.
I smile at my wife and kiss her lips one more time. “I love you,” I say and leave it at that.
There’s nothing more that needs to be said. There’s no one who completes me the way Reagan does. There’s no more calming force in my life than having my wife at my side. Sex or no sex, she’s it for me.
15
Reagan
Two hours later,I’m really glad Jude initiated that hot sex on the way here. The only things keeping me relaxed right now are the orgasm I had in the car and the glass of Merlot in my hand.
“You are every bit as lovely as I’ve heard,” an older man says as his eyes rake over my body. “You’re a lucky man, Jude.”
“Yes, I am.” My husband’s tone is clipped. “And a protective one as well.”
The warning in his tone goes unnoticed by the half-drunk guy in an expensive suit. He laughs and keeps ogling me as he says, “If that was mine, I’d be protective too.”
I press a palm to Jude’s back, trying to calm him. This comes with the territory, and we both know it. But Jude’s temper is shorter than usual right now.
Tyson finally got the details of the allegations against Jude confirmed about an hour ago, and we all huddled in a conference room for five minutes so he could tell us.
The woman’s name is Jessica Culbertson, and she’s a twenty-five-year-old aspiring model. She alleges that she was getting a photo taken with Jude at an event two months ago and he grabbed her ass and invited her back to his room, then got hostile and threatened her when she refused.
Even though I felt shattered that someone would make an accusation like that against Jude, I held it together. I don’t want anyone, even Tyson, to know how much I’m struggling with all of this.
Most of all, I don’t want Jude to know. He’ll think I doubt him, and it’s not that. Even as Tyson spelled out the allegations Jessica is lodging against Jude, I knew he hadn’t done any of it.
Jude’s not the sort to touch any woman who doesn’t want him to. He’s never had to, because women take one look at him and line up in hopes he’ll notice them.
When we’re apart, my husband lets me know in no uncertain terms how sexually frustrated he is. He gets pretty moody about it.
It’s the humiliation factor that has me feeling this way. Everything my family went through when my father’s affair came out has come rushing back. Even tonight, I’m getting looks of pity and disdain, and these are Jude’s supporters.
For once, I’m glad to see Tyson. He excuses Jude and me from the drunken asshole we’re standing with and leads us back to the conference room we met in before.
“Statement’s ready,” he says, passing Jude a piece of paper.
Jude scans it, then passes it to me. I read each word carefully as Jude asks Tyson, “Who wrote it?”
“I did. Since we don’t have a coms leader right now, I figured—”
“It’s good,” Jude cuts in.
I finish reading and nod in agreement. “You said what needed to be said and nothing more. It’s a clear, concise denial.”
Tyson nods, then levels his gaze at Jude.
“I have a photo of the accuser.” He passes Jude his phone, and Jude looks down at the screen. “Any memory of meeting her at any point?”
Jude shakes his head. “She doesn’t look familiar, but you know how campaigning goes. I see so many people every day. She could have been at an event, and I don’t remember it. But if she was, I definitely didn’t touch her or proposition her.”
Tyson nods and tucks the written statement back inside a folder. “We’ll get this released. How long do you want to hang here?”
“Another hour should be good,” Jude says, putting an arm around my waist.
Jude turns for the door then, and I put a hand on his arm to stop him.
