“Yeah?” I panted as his hands skimmed higher, coming up to cup my breasts.
“It sounds like you want me.” He bit my earlobe.
“I always want you,” I replied truthfully. Anywhere, anytime. I was like a big ball of want when it came to Jude. What had he done to me?
“Really?” His teeth lightly bit into the skin where my neck met my shoulder.
“Mhmm,” I hummed, my eyes closing.
“I like that, Tate,” he growled low in his throat, “I love that what I do to you turns you on.”
His thumb rubbed circles around my belly button.
My chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and I could barely keep my eyes open. “I need you. Now.” I panted, and he hadn’t even really touched me yet. Just teased.
“Your wish is my command,” he growled, his voice low and husky. He turned me around and captured my lips with his own, before lifting me up and hauling me over his shoulder. The air got knocked out of my lungs and I was pretty sure his shoulder bruised my stomach. But I’d take the pain if it meant I got to have him.
Jude ran inside and started up the steps. “We’ll be in my room, Pap…cleaning.”
I heard Jerry chuckle and call after us. “Cleaning? Sure, that’s what they call it these days.”
My cheeks flared with a blush, but I wanted Jude too bad to care.
He jogged down the hall into his room and slammed the door closed and locked it behind us.
He tossed me onto the bed and I bounced up and down a few times, letting out a small squeal as I tried to keep from falling off his bed.
While his bedroom at the townhouse was that of a man—gray walls, and black furniture—this was the bedroom of a boy. The walls were painted dark blue, the furniture was clearly hand-me-down and the comforter had blue and gray stripes on it. Clearly he’d never bothered to replace it.
I didn’t have long to look around, though.
He stalked towards me, reaching behind to hook his thumbs in the back of his shirt. He yanked it over his head and threw it across the room.
All that tan, muscled, and rippling flesh was a feast for my starved eyes. My tongue flicked out to wet my lips and then he crashed on top of me, pushing my body against the mattress. He pressed his whole body against me and took my face between his hands, staring into my eyes—staring right down to my very soul.
“I love you,” he whispered, and before I could reply he kissed me.
My hands gripped his arms, my nails digging into his flesh.
I needed him closer.
I needed more.
This wasn’t enough.
I pushed at him until he rolled over and I could straddle his hips. I leaned forward and my hair created a shield around us as I lowered my head to kiss him this time, taking control.
His fingers were bruising where he gripped my thighs and I knew he was struggling to hold himself back from taking things too fast.
He didn’t understand yet that no matter what we did, fast, slow, easy, or hard, I loved it all, because it was with him.
I laid my lips against his, not really kissing him, just feeling him.
I then opened my mouth and pulled his bottom lip between my teeth—letting it go with a pop.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
I ignored his comment and trailed my index finger over his nose. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I love these freckles.”