Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (41 page)

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Authors: R.C. Martin

Tags: #A Made for Love novel

BOOK: Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4)
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“Come here, Teddy.” I hesitate for beat, but then my body does what it wants and I slowly make my way across the room and behind his desk. He swivels his chair so that he’s facing me, and then he grabs the back of my thighs, coaxing me toward him. “Harper dropped by a few hours ago, before she headed home. She brought your keys and a bag and told me to tell you to call her as soon as you felt
human
again.”

I pull my lip between my teeth, fighting a grin. I love my sister dearly, but I don’t remember the last time she saved my ass, making me love her so much more. I owe her for this one. Except, if she dropped my bag off
this morning
—“Wait, how did my toothbrush get in the bathroom?”

“When we dropped Harper at your place last night, you insisted you needed it. Wouldn’t leave without it.”

“Shit,” I mutter, hiding my face behind my hands. “You must think I’m the most annoying drunk.”

He chuckles, pulling me closer, his hands sliding slowly up the back of my legs. “Miss Fitzpatrick, you are a delightful drunk.”

I part my fingers, peeking out between them at his face. “Really?”

“You were feeling particularly frisky last night. You won’t hear me complain about
that
.”

“Mmm, about that,” I hum dropping my hands to anxiously fidget with the hem of his t-shirt. “I didn’t exactly think that through. I mean—we didn’t, like, talk about it.” He frowns at me, silently expressing his confusion. “I just—I know you’ve been with other women.”

The brunette from The Chapel flashes in my memory again, and I feel both irritated and self-conscious. Up until that moment, I felt like Jude and I had been in our own little bubble—untouched by the reputation I’m sure goes along with his name. But now?

“Teddy, I’m a thirty-one-year-old man who has been enjoying sex for more than a decade. Of course I’ve been with other women. I can’t
erase
my sexual history now that I’m in a relationship.”

“No—I know. That’s not—I mean, I wasn’t…” I close my eyes and take a breath. I need coffee. But more than that, his statement is like a reality check that has caught me off guard. He’s right—it’s not my place to judge his past. What matters now is that he has chosen me—and
that
is a truth that makes my stomach flutter, my heart race, and my skin tingle. He’s in a relationship with
me
.

I—Theodora Rose Fitzpatrick—belong to Judah D. St. Michaels.

I make another mental note to find out with the
D
stands for in his name, and then I open my eyes and look at my boyfriend. He’s staring at me, a calm, contemplative look on his face. He looks so handsome, my mysterious man, I almost forget what we were talking about.
Almost
.

“I just want to make sure we’re being safe. I know we’re not having sex yet but…but we will. And given your sexual history, I just want to make sure you’re clean.”

“Miss Fitzpatrick,” he murmurs, sliding his hands over my ass as he pulls me closer. I squirm under his touch, resting my hands on top of his shoulders. “Did you just promise me sex?”

After last night, I wonder why he would even feign surprise. I think I made it pretty clear how much I want him. Sure, I had the help of more than enough liquid courage, but my desire to be with him—my desire to please him—it came from someplace real.

“Last night wasn’t just about my birthday. I’m in this with you…and I want you, too,” I whisper, feeling slightly embarrassed to be having this conversation while his hands are gripping my ass.

“I can hardly wait,” he replies, his voice low and sultry.

I watch as his eyes drop from mine down to my chest. Then, he opens his mouth around my breast. It’s as if he has x-ray vision and can see right through his t-shirt, his tongue rubbing over my nipple as he sucks. In spite of the cotton that separates my skin from the heat of his mouth, my nipples both pebble in an instant.

“Jude—what are you doing?” I ask airily, my fingers finding their way into his hair.

“I’m playing with my woman’s tits,” he mutters, letting go of one nipple only to latch on to the other.

I can feel it as my desire pools between my legs. Now more than ever, I wish that I wasn’t panty-less. If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m sure my arousal will be dripping down my leg. He makes me so wet, it’s almost embarrassing. Then again—one look at him, and who could blame me?

I’m so distracted by my lustful thoughts, I squeal in surprise when he grips my hips and lifts me onto his desk.

“Jude!”

“Lay back, sweetheart.”

“Wait, Judah—we just talked about—”

“Me,” he interrupts, his grey eyes locked with mine. “We just talked about
me
. I’ll call the doc this afternoon. But we both know this pussy is clean—and I want some.” He spreads my legs wide and my belly is stirred by a warm, raw longing I know only Jude can satisfy. “I won’t ask you again, Teddy.”

I nod and then comply, easing my way back across his glass desk. He drags his tongue up my slit slowly, and it’s all I can do to keep breathing. When he reaches my clit, he sucks it into his mouth, eliciting a soft moan from me. He feels better than amazing, and I wonder why on earth I ever thought of stopping him. After he lets go of my sensitive nub, he swirls his tongue around my entrance, teasing me in the most blissful way. Then, we both groan when he finally thrusts it inside of me.

I arch my back, my body so turned on I don’t quite know what to do. His hands grip my sides, but I wish they were everywhere—roaming every inch of skin on me. I’ve never wanted someone the way that I want him. It scares me, but it thrills me just the same.

“Come for me, Teddy,” he says, the vibration of his voice felt against my clit before he sucks it into his mouth once more. He then slides a finger inside of me and I suck in shallow breath, my hands flying to his hair of their own accord.


Jude!
” I cry, my orgasm so close I can practically taste it.

He sucks harder, thrusting his finger faster, and my insides tighten around him as I moan unabashedly through the duration of my release. When he pulls away from me, I remain a trembling mess across his desk, trying to catch my breath.

He stands and leans over me, an arrogant grin spread across his face. “I’ve got a few things I need to finish up, but if you hop in the shower, I’ll take you to lunch when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” I agree with a nod.

He kisses me before taking my hands and helping me off of his workspace. After he tells me where I can find the bag Harper dropped off earlier, I head back toward his bedroom. Just as I step into the hallway, I chance a glance back over my shoulder and find his eyes glued on me. I smile at him, giddy at the thought that he couldn’t take his eyes off of me.

I’m still not sure how this became my reality, but
that
gorgeous man is mine, and I feel like the most spoiled girl in the world.

 

 

The night that Justin raped me, after I managed to pick myself up, all I wanted was to wash him off of me. I don’t know how long I stood under the spray of a scalding hot shower, crying as I rubbed every inch of my body vigorously. Then, for the following twenty-four hours, all I could do was lay curled up on my mattress. I didn’t even have any sheets. I’d thrown them away. They were soiled with my blood and his semen.

After the first day, I stupidly wondered if he would come back. I wondered if he would apologize, tell me that he hadn’t meant to hurt me—that he
loved
me like he said that he did. Of course I was met with silence. Then, when I reached out to a mutual friend, everything went from horrible to horrendous. I confided in her, and not only did she not believe me, but she put me on blast. One totally passive aggressive status on Facebook, and I was done—deemed a liar and the worst kind of friend.

By the time I was brave enough to tell Harper, it had been a week. I felt like my life was over, and even her love and affection couldn’t quite make the pain go away. She told me that I should go to the police, that I should report the rape and get myself checked out, but I refused. I was convinced that they wouldn’t believe me—and even if they did, that Justin would only deny it.

He had been my boyfriend. We’d fooled around before. Even that night, I couldn’t deny that I’d been willing to go so far. Crying rape just felt pointless. So I did nothing. I didn’t even tell my parents about it. I knew my dad would go ballistic, and mom would be worried sick, so I just told them that we got into a horrid fight and broke up. I made Harper swear to tell no one, and I endeavored to move on with my life.

Up until now, I’ve never been concerned with getting myself checked out. With Judah in the picture, I decide that it’s time. I’d like to explore my options for birth control. I know it’s a big decision, one that I’ve waited
years
to make—but I feel ready. I always thought that I wanted to be in love, but with Justin, even then I wasn’t sure. A while later, after I started to go to church and I came to know the Lord, I learned just how sacred sex is. I know the value of my body, of my soul, and of my mind—I know that I am worth far more than the sum of my parts—and I know that when I let a man into my body, I’ll be emotionally tied to him in ways that only sex can bind.

My feelings for Judah run deeper than I ever thought they would. The things he does to my body, even with just a single glance, I feel tied to him already. I’m well aware that sex with me has been something he’s wanted from before he even knew my name—but now, after weeks of waiting, I know that it’ll mean something to
both
of us. He hasn’t said as much, but he doesn’t have to. He’s calling me his girlfriend, something I know he hasn’t done with anyone in ten years. I don’t need to hear the words when I know already that he’s given me a piece of his heart, his heart that he protects so fiercely.

So, first thing Monday morning, I call in to make an appointment with my physician. When they tell me that I can be squeezed in for an early afternoon visit, I don’t hesitate to accept. I skip my lunch hour, offering Andy and Geoff a vague explanation, and then spend that hour at the doctor’s office.

Dr. Murphy has been my physician since the first time I needed to see a doctor after starting college. An ear infection drew us together, and I’ve been a loyal patient ever since. Today, he’s just as kind as always, and I’m relieved that discussing the various forms of birth control available to me isn’t so much
awkward
as it is wildly informative. He leaves me with a bunch of pamphlets, encouraging me to take my time deciding which option works best for me, and then a nurse comes in to draw my blood. It’s not long before I’m headed back to the gallery, my evening plans now consisting of research and ice cream.

Upon my return to MTA, I spot Geoff with a customer. Then, after a quick glance at the calendar on my desk, I note that Andy is out meeting a new artist. I make myself busy, organizing and filing a few things until Geoffrey comes and interrupts me.

“So, where did you go?” he asks, taking his seat beside me.

I chuckle, shaking my head at him as I ask, “Did you just sell that piece?”

“Yes. Now, answer my question.”

“Why are you being so nosey, Mr. Fink?”

“Why are you being so
evasive
, Theodora?”

I stare at him for a few seconds, and he holds my gaze unwaveringly. It’s not long before I cave, knowing that I can’t really keep news like this from my best friend.

“I’m thinking about having sex with my boyfriend, so I went to the doctor to talk about my birth control options,” I blurt out.

His eyes grow as wide as saucers before the biggest shit-eating grin lights up his face. “You little, secretive bitch—I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me that shit!”

“Geoff, I
just
told you,” I laugh.

“Fuck. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous, baby girl,” he says, shaking his head at me, his expression still one of awe. “When you’ve done it, I want to hear every detail. That man knows more than a few ways to an orgasm, I’m convinced.”

My cheeks grow warm as my mouth falls open. I cough out a sigh before I reach over and smack his arm. “I’m not telling you
anything!
” I insist.

“Freckles, as your best friend—”

“No,” I tell him, shaking my head. “Sorry, babe.
I’m
a lady. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“God—fine,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You at least have to tell me once you’ve done it.”

“You know I will.”

“And I need to know if it was good.”

I smile bashfully, thinking of every orgasm Judah has given me so far. “I’m sure it will be.”

“Okay, now, lets see this information you got from the doctor.”

I scrunch my brow in confusion. “You want to discuss birth control?”

“You bet your ass I do. I may not be well versed on the subject, but that’s what google is for, baby girl. Besides, I’ve seen
The
Vagina Monologues
. I know enough, and we aren’t messing around with this shit. Show me what you’ve got.”

I grin at him, suddenly overwhelmed by how incredibly fortunate I am to have him as my closest friend. I grab his face and kiss the side of his mouth before I mutter, “I love you.”

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