Page 75 of More Than Friends

CHARLOTTE

“What do you want for dinner?”Jude asks me from across the kitchen.

I sit on one of the barstools, staring at him and wondering if I’m somehow dreaming all of this or if he really did have me coming over his fingers ten minutes ago, and now he’s standing in front of his fridge, shirtless, offering to make me food.

“What’s the fastest thing you can make?”

He wears nothing but a towel tied around his waist, and it’s teasing me like crazy. Now that I’ve seen him—allof him—I don’t want to eat. I want to get back to my room and finally make him come the way he’s done for me—twice.

He lets out a long, throaty laugh as he shakes his head. “Eager to get dinner over with?”

I nod immediately. “Yes. I’m not hungry. I’m horny.”

Jude smiles, and somehow, even from across the room, he makes my entire body feel warm just from his heated gaze alone. “I’ve given you two orgasms, and you’re still greedy for more.”

I press my thighs together underneath the counter. I’ve never come twice in a row, and here I am, begging for a third because of how much I want him. He has this ability to turn me on moments after I’ve already had a release. What we’ve done so farhas already been incredible, but I want more. I want to go all the way with him, and feeling his tongue or his fingers isn’t enough. It won’t be enough until I feel him inside me.

“You started it,” I tell him, leaning back in my chair as I watch him begin to collect things from the fridge and set them on the counter. “I was minding my own business”—a flush creeps across my cheeks at the memory of him catching me in my room—“taking care of myself, before you interrupted.”

“And I’ve made you come—twice—far harder than you would’ve with the toy you were trying to pretend was me.” He shuts the fridge before meeting my gaze. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll feel my cock inside you soon enough.” He winks, and it’s both incredibly hot and extremely frustrating at the same time. He’s having fun dragging this out, and there’s nothing I can do but eat the damn food he’s insistent I have before finally getting what I want.

“I want a peanut butter and jelly,” I announce.

He pauses, looking down at the array of ingredients he’s laid out on the counter before looking back at me. “I was going to make you a chicken pasta.”

I shake my head. “I want a peanut butter and jelly.”

His lips twitch with the threat of a smile. “I’m offering to make you any meal you want, and what you want is a peanut butter and jelly?”

I give him a confident nod before crossing my arms over my chest. The movement makes the plush robe I’d haphazardly thrown on after the shower fall open. I let it, hoping that putting the red marks he’s left all over me—which will be incredibly hard to hide tomorrow, by the way—on display will make him remember what we could be doing right now instead of eating. “Or maybe just some crackers and cheese. Something fast.”

“Or you could let me cook for you and make you a nice meal before I fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

My mouth snaps shut as my heart hammers inside my chest. He stares at me with raised eyebrows, just waiting for me to respond to the filthy words he just said. Wetness pools between my thighs at the mental picture of him fucking me. I can’t help it. He’s promised it so many times that I’m wet at the thought of it.

A pit forms in my stomach as I fight the urge to tell him he could make a nice meal for me tomorrow. Saying that would imply how badly I want this to be something that isn’t just for tonight, but I don’t know how much of what he’s saying is because he just wants to give in to the sexual attraction between us or if there are feelings involved too.

For me, the feelings run deep. It isn’t just my body that wants him; it’s my heart too. But this is Jude we’re talking about. No matter how vulnerable he’s gotten, I don’t know if he’s in the right spot to allow himself to feel anything more for me. I’m too nervous to ask, preferring to take what he’ll give me, even if that means that this is something more along the lines of friends with benefits.

“Does your silence mean you’re going to let me make you a nice meal?” Jude asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I shake my head and smile. “No. I want a peanut butter and jelly. Should I make it, or are you going to make it for me?”

“I’m done,” I announce, pushing my plate away from me.

“You didn’t even finish your sandwich,” Jude argues, pushing my plate in front of me once again.

“I’m done,” I repeat, sliding out of my chair and looking at him with a smile. I did what he wanted. I ate some of the damn PB&J that seemed like it took forever for him to make, and now I’m ready for what comes next.

I’m ready for him to fuck me.

And instead of begging him to do it, I’m taking matters into my own hands.

“It’s going to be a long night. Eat the rest of your sandwich, Char. You’ll need the energy.”

Goosebumps break out all over my skin at what he’s insinuating with his words. I hope I need the energy. I hope he can’t get enough and that he’s inside me all night. There’s really only one way to find out.

I slowly back away toward my room. My teeth rake against my bottom lip as I keep my gaze locked on his.