Page 69

I dropped the pillow, heart racing as I stared at him. He still looked solid. Like I could pin him to the bed and trace his muscles with my tongue.

His eyes widened and he stepped fully into the room with a tray of food, closing the door behind him. “Not that I don’t love the way you’re looking at me right now, like I’m the food, but you need to eat.”

His gaze dropped from my face downward, and I realized I was mostly undressed. Left in only boxers, which were tented, and wet around the tip of my very enthusiastic morning wood.

Jude stared, licking his lips. “That’s a very... vigorous reaction to bacon.”

“Bacon, right.” I caught his gaze as I reached for a piece of the crispy, salty meat and took a bite. “It’s the bacon.”

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his focus on my face and not on the rest of me. “You really should eat first. Real food, I mean. Your stomach’s been growling like an angry dinosaur for at least an hour.” He shoved the tray toward me, as if the two feet of distance actually mattered. “Food instead of me…”

If I hadn’t been starving, if my cat and the beast inside me hadn’t been demanding fuel, I would have shoved the food aside and pressed him against the door, and proven that I’d rather eat him.

Instead, I took the tray. Set it on the end of the bed. Devoured the bacon and half the orange juice before taking another breath. Then it registered that he’d been holding a physical tray of food, one that eased the growling ache of my stomach. He was still physical?

I jolted back to my feet and was across the room to press him into the wall, his eyes comically wide.

“Hi,” he said mildly.

“Hi,” I repeated numbly, desire for him eclipsing my hunger.

“You okay?”

I pressed my body against his, surprised by his warmth, and cursing that he was dressed for the day. “Define okay?” I shook my head. “Never mind.” It didn’t matter. I pressed my face into the curve of his neck, my brain muddled from sleep and desire. He smelled of soap and him.

“You don’t want to finish your breakfast?” He wrapped his arms around me. “I mean it’s like after lunch, but same difference.”

That should have bothered me, but whatever thought danced across the edge of my brain about work vanished the moment I had him in my arms.

“Is this a dream?” I asked into his neck, unwilling to let him go.

“No?” He sounded uncertain. “I mean no. But it’s magic. Do you remember last night? The cottage?”

Ivan’s mentor. Whatever he’d done to our apartment. “Vaguely.”

“Outside this apartment I’m still a ghost. In here...” He reached up, weaving his fingers through my hair, and tugged my head back so he could meet my eyes. A soft smile. “Hi.”

Hi was insufficient. My heart slammed against my ribs. I was already hard, already aching, already half out of my mind with wanting him.

The sounds from the apartment trickled through the door. Ivan talking to Peanut Butter. And... their grandfather. Something tugged at my memory. Something I’d forgotten. But Jude was right there. Solid. Warm. Delicious.

Every instinct screamed at me to pounce.

I pulled away, earning a disgruntled noise from him, but grabbed his hand and led him toward the ensuite bathroom. We needed more barriers. And I needed him.

The door clicked shut behind us, muffling the sounds of the apartment. The voices vanished. The bacon smell faded. Everything faded except the solid weight of Jude’s hand in mine.

I turned to face him. His eyes were dark, his chest rising and falling a little too fast. The tension between us was a living thing, coiled and waiting.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, and something in his expression shifted. Understanding. And beneath that, unmistakable want.

I closed the distance between us, one hand sliding to the back of his neck, the other pressing flat against his chest to savor his heartbeat, solid and real beneath my palm. I kissed him like I was drowning and he was air.

He made a sound against my mouth, surprise, then relief, then something hungrier. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer, fingers digging into my skin like he was afraid I’d be the one to vanish.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

I backed him against the bathroom door. His hands slid up my back, my sides, my chest, tracing every line like he was memorizing me. But I needed more. Needed him.