Page 120 of Play With Me

He looks so sexy in next to nothing, his hair mussed up from the day and his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Hey, Shotgun Annie.”

I bite my lip, my heartbeat picking up. “Hey, Jude.”

When my eyes dart to the door, Jude gets up and wedges the chair under the doorknob. He comes back and sits on the side of his bed, his legs wide, elbows on his knees.

Maybe it’s the Shotgun Annie, a name I now realize I’ve inhabited when I need to feel brave. Or maybe it’s Jude steepling his hands under his chin, his pupils-wide gaze and quirked lips as he rakes his eyes over my still mostly clothed body. Probably it’s the fact that we definitely shouldn’t be doing this here, not in a holy building in the middle of nowhere. Whatever it is, I know I’m already wet; already wanting him inside of me so badly my mouth parts as he sits up straight, widening his legs and pulling me toward him.

“Jude, we probably shouldn’t,” I whisper.

“You’re right. We shouldn’t.”

But his hands dance along the waistband of my jeans.

And I don’t stop him as he begins to undress me.

He doesn’t have to stand as he reaches up and pulls off my sweater, and just the sound of it hitting the floor makes heat spread in my lower half.

Jude works his way down the buttons of my collared shirt underneath, slipping it over my shoulders, then kissing my newly bare stomach and top of my hips. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin. I can’t help gasping as he closes his teeth over the top of my hip.

Next, he undoes my bra, tossing it aside, and immediately nuzzles his face between my breasts.

“My happy place,” he says, nipping at my flesh as I laugh.

I stop laughing when he takes a nipple into his mouth, twirling it with his tongue and releasing it with a wet pop before giving the same treatment to the other.

I’m breathing fast by the time he unbuttons my pants, slipping them down over my hips and helping me out of them. I toe off my socks so I’m standing there in just my underwear, chest heaving, the air deliciously cold against my nipples still wet from his tongue.

“This is definitely a sin,” I say, even as I tilt my chest out, needing him to touch me again.

Jude curls his hands around the back of my thighs, obliging me with a flick of his tongue over one nipple, then the other.

He looks up and smirks. “Your body is a sin, Nora.”

I half laugh at his corny joke and half shiver at his hand sliding up and over the lace-covered triangle between my legs.

“You’re terrible,” I breathe.

“I’m going to get worse.”

He slips both hands around my backside. But he pauses, snapping his eyes up at me. “Nora Albright, is this a—”

He turns me around and sucks in a breath.

I’m wearing a G-string. Granny panties are my go-to, but this is the last of the pairs Sasha packed for me, and I wanted to keep feeling sexy. For Jude.

For me.

“Is it ridiculous on me?” I whisper. “It is, right? A G-string under the kinds of clothes I wear…”

“It’s the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life.”

He says it so definitively, I can’t help smiling.

Then he slips his finger under the thin strip of fabric and plucks it like a string on an instrument.

I yelp at the delicious little snap.More. I want more.

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