Page 20 of Feels Like Forever
“What about the rest of the week?” Obviously, I haven’t told him my schedule, and he’s probably used to the time I get back home instead of the exact time we close.
“Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, it’s four in the afternoon until two in the morning. Sundays, we’re closed, thankfully.” Usually, between Dad, Janelle, and myself, we can tackle it without being dragged through the mud.
“Sunday, I want you all to myself. The rest of the week, we’ll figure out once you know your hours.” He doesn’t ask, he states. And I really like it. He’s taking the guessing gameout of the equation, allowing me not to make decisions, and damn, if that isn’t amazing.
“Sunday is yours. It’s usually really late because we’re doing end-of-the-week inventory and all the other shit that gets tossed by the wayside in the middle of the week.” Dad is in his semi-retirement state, and while he could tend bar while I do the monotonous shit or vice versa, he doesn’t. I’m going to have to eventually talk to him because doing it all while exploring the relationship that’s building with Jude means working to live, not living to work.
“Got no problem with that. Now, kiss your man, Foxy, and then we’ll head out of here.” His van is idling near my car. We’ve kept both running with the air conditioning on full blast, and I have a feeling we’re both going to need it to cool down after my lips meet his. There’s no such thing as a quick kiss when it comes to the two of us, it’s more along the lines of a hot and heavy make-out session where we both become lost in the other, and I freaking love every minute of it.
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“Time for bed for you,”Jude tells me a couple of hours later after we arrive back at his place. We worked together seamlessly. When I packed up the inside earlier today, I was smart and placed things together to make it easier to grab and go. The laundry got started right away, our clothes mixed together, and Jude made no qualms about it.Then it was transferring all the cold stuff from one fridge to the other. Once that was done, Jude wrapped everything up with the outside of the van while I did a clean sweep of the floors, wiped down every surface, and called it good to go.
“I’m going to switch the laundry over, and then I will.” I let out a yawn, realizing I’m more tired than I initially thought. I’d already ducked into his bathroom to take a quick shower, and now it’s his turn.
“Meet you in bed.” He’s shirtless, much like he’s been most of the weekend. His tattoo is out in the open, healing exactly like mine.
“Yeah,” I say, swallowing a wave of desire when he shoots me a wink. I got a quick tour when Jude showed me where the kitchen, laundry room, and pantry were. From there, I was on my own. Which meant I snooped. At first, I almost didn’t, worried he’d be upset, but it’s not like we haven’t invaded each other’s space all weekend.
I finish moving the towels from the washer to the dryer. I already finished our darks and whites, hung up what needed to be line dried and folded what was dry. Then I turn off the light to walk toward Jude’s bedroom. As I do, I catalogue the living room. It’s big and full of lush furniture, including dark brown leather couches and knotty pine coffee end tables, plus a console table, which has a massive-as-hell television mounted to the wall above.
There’s a pool in the backyard, surrounded by a massive outdoor space, and I immediately clocked the ashtray on the table he has out there. Most people would find a man smoking repulsive. I don’t. And while it’s bad for his health,and there is cause to worry, everyone has a vice they should probably kick. It’s up to the individual to do the heavy lifting.
I move through the rest of the house. It’s clean, kind of on the sparse side in the form of décor, and mainly has the needs and not the wants. Unlike mine, where it’s the more the merrier. My brother and father like to make fun of me because there isn’t a garage sale I could walk past, never mind being unable to pass up buying some little trinket.
Where most new houses are open floor plans, Jude’s isn’t. His home is also in an older subdivision. Big oak trees canopy a lot of the sidewalks and streets, giving it that old world feel. He even has a big front porch, though I can’t imagine him sitting out there while smoking a cigarette, especially in nothing but a towel or pair of shorts. The hallway houses all three bedrooms along with a bathroom. I took a quick peek earlier and noticed Jude has a massive home office. Computer screens littered one side of the walls, while the other areas hold the machines, I think. I’m not exactly sure. I don’t even have a desktop, preferring to use my trusty laptop I’ve had for years. I did notice the air conditioning coming out of that room had me shivering.
The other room has a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. The two rooms are sandwiched between a bathroom, one that’s bigger than I expected it to be. A stand-up shower to one side and a clawfoot tub on the other with a full double vanity. Opulence and luxury are the only way I can describe it. The shower has two rain showerheads coming from the ceiling and a few on the walls, then there’s a bench the length of one wall.
My mind went wild thinking about so many ways tomake use of it. Jude sitting on the tile bump-out, me on my knees between his spread thighs as he feeds me his cock. We could always reverse rolls. It could be him in front of me as he eats me like his last meal. Then there’s my favorite: I’d be completely spread open, my feet on the tile, ass at the ledge, and Jude would fuck me raw while he's on his knees.
A tingle races up my spine, my core aches, and I’m already contemplating ways to deviate him from sleeping or at least to have a little fun before I drift off to sleep.
I make my way into his bedroom and head to the stack of folded clothes in search for one of Jude’s shirts. It doesn’t take very long for me to strip out of my clothes and slip his on. While the van didn’t have a designated area of where he sleeps, his bedroom does. I pull the covers back and move to the right side of the bed, away from the door.
I’m settling in when the door to the bathroom opens. Jude is in nothing but a towel again, and since the covers aren’t over my bare thighs, he can see the way my body reacts to his.
“Fuck me. Resisting you is impossible, Foxy.” He whips the towel off, allowing it to drop to the floor, then his fist wraps around his cock, and I really wish it were my hand slowly stroking him as he makes his way toward me.
“Then don’t resist me, Jude.” I spread my legs, lift them up, and slowly trail a finger from the outside of my thigh inward.
“Oh, I’m not.” The deep timbre of his voice sets me off. I strum my clit as he takes each step slower than I thought possible. “I’m going to watch you come while I make myself come, then want you beneath me as you fall asleep.” He sitsbetween my spread thighs, where we both have a clear view of what the other is doing to their body.
“Yes, please.” He clasps the back of my leg and lifts it to my shoulder, inadvertently opening me up further, and we take matters into our own hands while keeping our gaze locked on one another.
14
JUDE
Iwalk through the door of The Social for the second time today, the first being when I dropped Ronnie off for her shift. She tried to balk at me doing so, which then went on to me picking her up later tonight, too. I shut her up the only way I knew how, by kissing her with a thoroughness that left her breathless and me hard as a rock. Ronnie finally conceded, stating she didn’t want me to flip my schedule around to suite hers, worried I wouldn’t get done what I wanted during my time off. Little does she know I’ve already adjusted my schedule to fit to hers, the upside of taking on clients when and how I want. The only contracts I can’t mold to how I want is the government kind, but I’ve already closed those out.
“That her?” Tysen asks. I rallied the guys earlier, doing a quick check-in via text, and when they asked what I’d be getting into the rest of the day, I sent them a pin with The Social’s address and the time I’d be there.
“That’s Foxy. Ronnie to you fucks,” I tell not only Tys but the guys following behind us. The bad part about the men settling down is most of their women are pregnant or recently gave birth. Which means it’s just the guys tonight. Lennie is hoping to stop by for a few minutes. That’s only if Kennedy, her sister-in-law, won’t mind watching the twins. Though I figure with her daughter, Briar, more than willing to babysit, there won’t be a problem in that area.
“So, you’re saying call her Foxy to piss you off. Got it,” Jagger says, trying to get a rise out of me. I let it roll off my back. I’d like to hear him say that in front of his woman, Lyric. She’d probably give him the titty twister of all titty twisters.
“You want me to call Lyric?” I turn around, losing sight of Ronnie in the process, which makes me damn anxious.
