“Tatum.” He growled my name, biting at my lower lip.
I whimpered in response.
I could feel him growing hard between my legs and I wanted—no, needed—more.
“Jude, please,” I tore at his shirt. I was tempted to rip it off him.
He set me down long enough to tear his now soaked shirt off his body. It fell to the ground with a wet thump. He picked me up once more and my hands sought his chest, e
xploring the smooth hard planes.
His fingers found the string of my bikini top and tugged. I felt the fabric begin to fall away from my body. The only thing keeping it from falling off completely was our chests pressed together.
I wrenched my mouth from his. I needed to get the words out of my mouth before he kissed me silly and I changed my mind. “I’m not ready.”
“I know you’re not,” he kissed the skin below my ear, “but I need to feel you against me. Skin to skin. That’s it. I promise.”
He pulled back far enough to see my eyes. I gave him a single nod.
He grinned and grabbed the scrap of black fabric, tossing it away.
His eyes feasted on the sight of my chest laid bare to him. I suddenly felt shy and nervous. I wondered if I measured up to the other girls he’d been with. My chest wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either.
“Perfect,” he growled, almost as if he’d read my mind. His lips covered mine once more. One hand supported my body against the wall, while the other kneaded my breast. I soon found myself panting embarrassingly loud. The things he could make me feel… The man had skills.
“You were fucking made for me.” He informed me between kisses. “You’re mine, do you understand me?”
In the past, the über Alpha male attitude had turned me off, but coming from Jude? It was hot.
“Yes,” I gasped, seeking his lips once more. “And you’re mine.”
That’s right, I, Tatum Elizabeth O’Connor was staking claim to Jude Brooks. From this moment on he was mine. Bitches beware. I had claws and I wasn’t afraid to cut a bitch if she got too close to my man.
“You know it, baby.” He kissed me passionately, absorbing all my worries and concerns. As his lips moved against mine it was like I became a new person…no, not new. I just became me again. I’d missed me. With every stroke of his lips and play of his fingers against my breasts, I felt my happiness returning in full force. My pain and suffering and all the anger I’d lived with—a lot of it directed at him—melted away and swished down the drain along with the shower water. Jude could work magic—or at least his lips and fingers could.
I’d been holding myself back from him, even after I’d resolved to an us. Running away on the beach proved that, along with my constant need to snap at him.
But I was really and truly giving myself over to him now. I wasn’t holding myself back any longer. I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted us.
My fingers tangled in the wet strands of his hair, tugging lightly to draw him closer.
Our chests slid against each other and both of his hands now cupped my butt to hold me up. We were drenched from the shower, but neither of us seemed to mind. My wet hair clung to my face and he moved a strand away.
He didn’t try to remove my bottoms, which I was thankful for. He was respecting my boundaries and it made me appreciate him even more.
His lips slid down my neck, placing gentle kisses. “I could kiss you forever,” he breathed, raising his head so his brown eyes connected with mine.
I nodded in agreement, because right then he’d stolen my ability to speak.
He placed one last lingering kiss on my lips before pulling away. He picked up my bikini top and instead of handing it to me he proceeded to help me put it back on—taking extra time to cup my breasts. I thought it was safe to say that Jude was a boob man.
“Why’d you stop?” I panted, still out of breath from our activities.
“Because,” he pressed his forehead to mine, his gaze searing me with its intensity, “you aren’t ready for more yet and if we kept at it we might’ve gotten in trouble. I never want to do anything you’d regret.” He smoothed his fingers down my cheeks, causing my lashes to flutter. Great, I’d turned into one of those girls that swooned. I was in too good of a mood to care, though.
Jude picked up his drenched shirt and headed for the shower door—which was really more like a flimsy gate.
He turned back and looked at me with dark, serious eyes. “Every time I kiss you I never think the next one can top it, but it does.”