She’s not upset. She doesn’t even sound angry. Her tone is resolute. Her mood seems calm and accepting. She finally looks over at me, and I can tell she’s tired, even before she stifles a yawn. I wrap an arm around her. I’m honestly almost ready for round two, but she looks exhausted emotionally and physically, so I’ll have to wait. She curls into my chest, resting her head near my collarbone. “You think he left a sleeping surface anywhere?”
“No. Dick.” She yawns again.
He did leave the long, fairly thick seat cushion on the window seat and the oversize throw pillows. There’s another window like this downstairs, and he probably left those cushions too. I lay the big cushion out on the floor just next to the bed frame and then grab the other pillows and lay them out too. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going buck naked?”
I smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving the house.”
I go downstairs. I was right: the prick did leave those cushions too. I carry them back upstairs. When I walk back into the room, I find her fast asleep on the long cushion, a throw pillow under her head. The sheet that had been wrapped around her is now spread out on top of her. I watch her for a minute, her breathing deep and even, her eyelashes fluttering just a little bit. I could go. Normally I would. I mean, I got what I came for; why the hell should I sleep on the floor?
I carefully place the long cushion I’m carrying down beside her. I take a deep breath, stretch and bend down to grab a throw pillow, then as softly as possible I lower myself onto the cushion beside her. I carefully lift the sheet over me, tuck my arm under the pillow, and curl up facing her. After a minute I reach out and push a piece of her hair off her cheek. She shifts, moving closer, her head curled toward her chest. I lean over and give her that kiss on the top of her head I’ve been craving.
21
Zoey
I point to the herringbone marble tile backsplash. “See the detail? It’s modern with a classic twist. Very high-end.”
He lifts my hair off my neck.
“The appliances are all Viking. Best of the best.”
His lips are on my neck just above my first vertebra.
I take a big step forward, hoping to break the contact before it breaks my willpower.
“Let’s take a look at the first bedroom. All three have attached baths.”
I manage to make it into the guest bedroom before he can touch me again. But now he’s got a hand around my waist as he steps into the room and stands beside me. Thank God this is Marti’s listing and she’s letting me show it on my own. Jude is the polar opposite of professional right now, and there’s no way Marti wouldn’t notice if she werehere. And she wouldn’t miss the delighted look I’m having trouble keeping offmy face either.
I point to the barn door on a track that separates the bath from the bedroom. “See, another classic nod, but if you step into the bathroom, you’ll see the modern…”
His hand slips to my ass and stays there. Right next to the area that’s bruising a little from the way he gripped it last night. Luckily, before I succumb to the flush that wants to explode like fireworks all over my face, his hand moves lower and I think he’s going to drop it away from me completely, but then his fingers find the hem of my skirt.
I step away, moving into the bathroom. I reach up and move my hair over my shoulder, because I’m suddenly, but not shockingly, hot. “Here they used the same black and white…marble…as the kitchen…”
He’s right behind me, his fingers ghosting up my sides. It’s a dual attack because his mouth is ghosting my exposed neck. Before I can stop myself my head tilts, giving him better access, and my eyes close. “Is the shower in the master big enough to fuck in?”
“What?”
“I like to fuck in the shower. And the tub. And…”
His hands have moved up the front of my shirtdress, and he’s now fully cupping my breasts. My nipples hardening also act as my wake-up call. Once again I move away from him. “All the showers are very big. See?” I point to the oversize glassed-in one in the corner and move closer to the window. “Jude, this is work. I’m working. For you. I should be professional.”
“Yes, you should,” he agrees, which I find odd, but then he grins that big, infectious, boyishly charming grin of his. “But you’re working for me, like you said, and I don’t want you professional. I want you naked and coming on my cock.”
“Jude!” I flush. I swear even my toes are pink. I have to grab the counter beside me for support because a full-body flush apparently takes a lot out of a girl.
“Come on. Test the water pressure with me,” he asks, stepping into my personal space again. I need to find the strength to stop him. If only I knew where the hell I put it…it’s around here somewhere…His hand goes under my chin and lifts it. Our lips touch, and I’m the one who pushes up into him, opening my mouth and granting him access.
I know it’s inappropriate, but it’s so damn good. He’s great at kissing. I knew that when I was eighteen. He was rough then, but in a fumbling way, not a domineering one. And everything was so urgent then, which I assumed came from his inexperience and his rush to be experienced. Still, it was a turn-on. Someone so enthusiastic and into it. Kissing didn’t feel like a forced march with seventeen-year-old Jude the way it did with other boys that age who saw it as their one clear path to something more. Kissing twenty-eight-year-old Jude feels the same way; only now it will most certainly lead to more, and we both know it—and want it. But it can’t happen here in this house with my hand on a counter next to a stranger’s toothbrush.
“Jude. God, as much as I would love to get into another shower with you, it can’t be this one,” I explain as I gulp down air after that breathtaking kiss. “I could get fired.”
“Even if I buy it?” Jude questions. “Like a you broke it, you buy it policy. You fuck in it, you buy it?”
I laugh, and his trademark grin grows. “Do you even like the place? You haven’t even seen the other bedroom or the master.”
