“Because you offered me dinner, remember? While you were touching me?” He sank down and placed his hands on Jude’s bare knees. “Kissing me? Did you already forget?” He slid his hands along the rough hair of Jude’s strong thighs. “I didn’t.”
“I-I didn’t, but—”
“No buts.” Muscles rippled beneath his fingertips, and hearing Jude’s breath hitch, Mason wanted to put his arms around the man and hug away all the hurt he carried inside him. But it was still too uncertain between them, the emotions as fresh and raw as bare skin beneath a flame. A man like Jude, someone who regularly helped others with zero expectation of anything in return, wouldn’t accept simple words. Two random—even if explosive—hookups were all they had between them. That and the bad blood simmering for a decade. It might make for delicious, angry sex, but Mason was curious to explore further, to see if there was anything beyond the physical for them.
“Now, what’s it gonna take to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich around here?”
A glimmer of hope rose in Jude’s guarded gaze, and the fear and pain Mason had seen there began to fade. The tension uncoiled from Jude’s body, and a wistful smile creased his cheek, along with a slight blush that hit Mason’s heart and left him breathless.
“Strawberry or apricot?”
He took a chance and swept the lock of hair off Jude’s brow, then brushed a kiss over his half-open mouth.
“A little of both. I like to live dangerously.”
With a bounce in his step, he hastened to the kitchen before Jude could change his mind, and grabbed the loaf of whole wheat bread on the counter. Jude’s soft footsteps followed him, and Mason tensed, preparing for another of his quicksilver mood changes and an order to get out.
“The jam is in the refrigerator.”
Mason peered over his shoulder at a sight he never thought he’d see after their tumble together at the wedding. Jude, naked except for boxers, hair disheveled, lips still red from their frantic kisses, looking so enticing, Mason was ready to toss the sandwich and jump him. Instead, he narrowed his eyes.
“You keep your jam in the fridge? That’s silly. It doesn’t spoil. It belongs in the cabinet.”
“No it doesn’t.”
Choosing not to argue, Mason rummaged in the fridge and found the jam, made his sandwiches, and sat at the island.
“I’m sorry. Did you want one?”
“No.” Jude slid onto the stool next to him. “I ate already.”
Mason chewed and swallowed. “Can I have a drink?”
“Sure. Beer, wine? I think we should keep away from the tequila.”
Mason stared at him. “Alcohol? Dude. I’m eating PB&J. How about some milk?”
“You want milk.” Now it was Jude’s turn to stare at him. “A glass of milk?”
“What else do you eat with peanut butter and jelly?”
Jude didn’t answer but poured him the drink, and he gulped it down.
“Ah. That was good.”
As soon as he returned the jam to the fridge, he found himself pressed up against the counter by a very hard, very warm Jude.
“Are you finished now?”
“Depends. Finished with what?”
“You love to run your mouth, don’t you?” The pad of Jude’s thumb rubbed a sensual circle around his lower lip, and Mason couldn’t help but suck on the tip. Fire exploded in Jude’s eyes, and Mason’s cock thickened alongside Jude’s already hard shaft.
He licked Jude’s finger and slipped his arm around his solid waist. “Are we about to make another mistake? I just want to be sure before I get on my knees and suck your cock.”
Jude tangled a hand in his hair and forced Mason to look at him. “I shouldn’t want you. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore.”
“Do any of us?” He arched his hips into Jude, the pulsing ache of desire sizzling hot in his blood. Something happened whenever Jude touched him, but Mason didn’t want to think too hard on it. “I just know you make me feel good.”
