Page 93 of The Surrender
“Ignore it,” he says, as my mobile yells from my bag by the door.
“I had every intention of ignoring it.” My arms slip onto the back of his head as his mouth drifts south.
Ring, ring, ring.
He removes his fingers and replaces them with his mouth. “Oh God.” My back bows, and my eyes fall to the mirrored fridge doors. I can see his head buried between my bent legs.
Ring, ring, ring.
I hum, purr, writhe, savouring his hot, wet tongue slipping easily through me, hearing him undo the fly of his jeans. “I want you.” I grab his hair and pull his face up. “I want you now.” My insides are screaming for him to sate the burn building.
“How badly?” he whispers, placing a hand on my chest and dragging it down my body, his eyes following as he frees his raging erection.
“Sobadly.”
Ring, ring, ring.
“Fuck!” he hisses, gazing up at me with a look somewhere between frustration and desire. “Who the hell is that?”
“Ignore it.” I grab him and haul him down onto my mouth, shifting my hips to help him fall into place between my legs.
Ring, ring, ring.
“Jesus Christ.” He pushes himself up and gasps for air, looking around the room. “Where the fuck is your phone?”
Wilting in disappointment, I throw my arms over my head. “In my bag by the door.”
Jude stalks off, pulling his jeans up over his arse as he goes.
“It’s your mum,” he says when he’s back, holding up my phone. “Ten missed calls.”
My wanton state is forgotten in a heartbeat, my heart racing for an entirely different reason. I feel like the blood has just drained out of my face, and Jude suddenly looks as anxious as I feel. Bringing my phone to me, he stands between my open legs, as if worried I might fall off the counter. I try to dial Mum back, but my hands are shaking too badly, adrenaline of the unknown ruling me. She calls again before I manage to convince my fingers to work.
“Mum?” I say, my voice audibly shaky. Jude rests his hands on my bare thighs and starts to stroke, waiting. Patient.
“I don’t want you to be upset, Amelia,” she says.
Of course that has the reverse effect. “Why would I be upset?” I ask, my eyes on Jude’s as he waits.
“It’s your father.”
My heart beats double time. “Oh my God, what’s happened?” My throat is suddenly tight, forcing me to reach for it.
“He wanted to go for a drive, you see.”
All kinds of scenarios run rampant through my head, and my eyes start to well with building tears. “Mum, please, tell me what’s happened to him.”
“Nothing’s happened to him, darling.”
“What?”
Jude frowns, withdrawing, his hands slowing in their strokes across my thighs.
“Your father’s fine. Oh dear, I realise how that all sounded now.”
I exhale in a rush of urgent breath, and Jude visibly relaxes too, shaking his head in exasperation. “Mum, you had me so worried.”
“Oh, silly me.”
