Page 84 of Wicked Temptations
“Yeah, I know.” He shifted closer, his body heat warming my side. “Which means you’re stuck with me.” His hand was still in my hair, playing with the strands. “Besides, I want breakfast. And you’re ordering in.”
“Oh, am I now?”
“Yep!” And then his arm draped across my waist, pulling me closer. He gave a small tug, rolling me towards him. Smooth bastard. “I want a full breakfast...”
The laugh caught me by surprise. It burst out before I could stop it, genuine and unexpected.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head, still smiling. “You’re just an asshole.”
“Yeah.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “But I’m nowyourasshole.”
Chapter 20
Ash
IknockedonJude’sdoor at six. Riley stood beside me with her arms crossed and her evil doll grin already painted on her face.
“This is a terrible idea,” she said.
“It’s a great idea.”
“He’s gonna kill you.”
“Probably.” I knocked again, louder this time. “But it’ll be worth it.”
The door swung open, and Jude stood there in his typical sweatpants and baggy shirt, moon boot wrapped around his right foot. His hair was unstyled, falling across his forehead in a way that made my lips quirk into a smile.
“What are you doing here?” His gaze flicked between us. “And why is Riley in costume?”
“Get dressed.” I pushed past him into the apartment. “You’ve got work tonight.”
“What?” He turned, confusion written all over his face. “Ash, I can’t work. I’m injured.”
“I know that.” I headed to his bedroom and started pulling clothes from the closet. “That’s why this is gonna be different.”
“Different how?” He followed me, hobbling on the boot. He didn’t need the crutches as much anymore, but walking was still slow and problematic. The over-the-top protective side of me was desperate to lend him a hand—or toss him over my shoulder again—but I knew he’d rebel with Riley present.
“Ash, you know I can’t perform. Doctor’s orders. Parker’s orders. My fucking ankle’s orders.”
I tossed his tactical pants at him. Jude missed catching them, so they draped over his head and shoulders. He grabbed them with a huff, his hair now messy beyond belief. It was such a good look on him, though my judgment was no doubt skewed. It reminded me of how he looked when I was through thoroughly debauching him.
And I’d certainly seen Jude in that state a lot this week.
Getting to spend actual time with Jude had been surreal. Not just stolen moments in storage closets or hurried encounters in the parking lot, but real time. Mornings waking up in his bed and nights falling asleep with him pressed against my side. Once he got his head to shut up, Jude was a real snuggler, and I loved it.
Being nicer to each other hadn’t dulled the sex either. It was still incredible, maybe even more so now. Thursday night we’d barely made it to the couch before I’d had him bent over the arm, both of us still half-dressed and frantic. Yesterday morning I’d fucked him against the bathroom counter, watching his face in the mirror as he came apart.
He kept swearing revenge and saying he was going to fuck my lights out, but until his ankle healed, we both knew I was in charge.
But it was the other stuff that really got to me. The so-calledboringstuff that couples did, like the night we’d argued about which Lord of the Rings movie was better while we ate takeout or him swearing like a sailor when I said the Hobbit trilogy had its moments. He’d gotten passionate about it, gesturing wildly with his hands, eyes bright with interest. I’d kissed him mid-rant just to shut him up, but he’d still ranted and raved against my mouth. He was so fucking stubborn.
I’d forced him out of the apartment twice. Once to the park down the street where we’d sat on a bench and he’d bitched about the sunlight while I fed him pieces of a sandwich. The second time to that Thai place I’d gotten takeout from; the curry was actually worth eating hot and fresh, and it was only afterwards that Jude realized that was our first official date. The way he’d apologized in the car made his obliviousness worth it.
Watching his interactions with the world outside his apartment was something else. He smiled more. Laughed easier. His sharp edges softened when it was just us, but that addictive spark of defiance was always just there, simmering below the surface.
Like now, when he was leaning against a wall, arms crossed and looking annoyed at me. Even that was adorable.
