Hands Off (3 page)

Slow down
.

“You know how I haven’t been with a man in a long while?” She hoped he knew. She continued before he could reply. “Well, I want to try. I
very
much want to try.”

The hard sole of his loafer tapped loudly against the floor. A reflex? His large, warm hand grabbed hers and squeezed. “Naomi. Sweetheart, if you’re talking about that guy with the sweater vest, you can do
much
better.”

“Sweater vest?” She sighed. “No, Jude. Not him.”

“Who then?” His voice dropped a notch to a deep rumble that somehow pulsed down between her thighs.

Slow down? Who was she kidding?

“I want you, Jude.” The words spilled out easily as she ran her hand up his chest and wrapped it around his neck. “I want you badly.”

There. She said it. And waited for a response. Something.

But he didn’t allow her a single glimpse of a reaction. He simply stared. For far too long. Unblinking and unmoving.

“Did you hear me?” she whispered, feeling rejected. Of course, she’d known rejection was a big possibility.

“Yes, I heard.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You want... me?”

“Yes, but don’t think you have to say yes just because”—she waved a hand—“you know. Because we’re friends. Or you don’t want to hurt my feelings. I’m stronger than that.”

“Why me?” he asked, flustering her more.

“Well, I’m attracted to you for one.” A total understatement.

“I didn’t think I was your type. I’m nothing like—” He paused, shook his head.

This wasn’t going at all as she’d hoped. All she could do at this point was lay it all out there. Let him in on what her thought process had been up to now. Maybe then he’d understand.

She cleared her throat, thinking fast. “You know I haven’t been able to taste, truly taste, anything in a long time, right?”

“You mentioned that before. What does that have to do with this?”

“It’s all related. Bear with me?”

He nodded stiffly.

“You know the hobbies I used to adore—reading, hiking, skiing, wine tasting—I stopped caring about them. And the career I used to love has become monotonous. It takes days to sketch out a design when it used to take hours.”

She’d never thought she’d grow bored of designing clothes, but her flair and passion for the creative had come to an abrupt halt after Davis had died. Luckily she had a good work ethic and persevered. Otherwise, she’d have to literally start from scratch. Her burgeoning career would’ve been ruined.
 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were still so unhappy.” He rubbed his thumb against her palm. His expression softened. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I’m not trying to make you pity me. I’m trying to make you understand.”
And seduce you in the least seductive way, apparently.

Shoot. She ran her hand over his chest again. The solid wall of muscle, of strength. She hoped this wasn’t the last time she’d be able to touch him like this.

“I’m listening, Naomi.”

Okay, here it goes.
“Several months ago I started feeling again. I started craving. But the craving wasn’t for food or anything quite that simple.” She gulped and willed the warmth from her cheeks. “It only happens when I’m around you. I began to notice you... as a man.” Her fingers trailed along his tense shoulder. His broad shoulders and back were her favorite parts of him. This week.

“As a man?”

“Probably sounds silly.” She opened her hands and tried to explain. “Lately, when we hug... I don’t want it to end. I love being wrapped up in your arms. Sometimes I notice how you look at me from across a crowded room. And I like it. I imagine you’re thinking not-so-innocent thoughts about me. Which might be ridiculous but...”

She dropped her hand to cradle his, avoiding eye contact, yet pausing to see if he’d say something. When he didn’t, she continued. “I began to look deeper. At every angle, every muscle, your hair, your lips, your cheeks, your jaw, your scars, your scent, every quirk and nuance. And each time I observed you, my body heated, my nerves tingled, and I felt alive again. Finally. You ask
‘why me?
’ and all I can think of is how obsessed I’ve become with you.”

She belted out a nervous laugh, then stopped herself when he didn’t smile, nor did any of the tension ease from his body. His thumb had stopped rubbing her hand and was now pressed solidly against her palm.

“Do you know what I mean, Jude? I’m not asking for forever. Just one night. But I won’t beg.”
 

Stop embarrassing yourself, Naomi.

Too late for that,
she thought when he dropped his gaze. He couldn’t even look at her. Her cheeks blazed and she stood to get some distance from the huge mistake she’d made. How could she unstitch this one? She should’ve known better than to take advice from Millie.

“You know what? Never mind,” she said, heading toward the door. Her embarrassment was quickly transitioning to anger. He could at least let her down easy. “Aren’t you going to say something? Anything?”

Naomi turned on her heel and was startled when she found Jude standing directly behind her, a peculiar smirk on his lips.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re asking for,” he said, his voice unusually hoarse. His large frame was a bit intimidating as he inched closer, backing her against the door. “I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’re not at your best.”

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I couldn’t handle the consequences.”

“So we’re clear—you want to have sex... with me? For just one night?” He held up a finger and grazed it along her cheek.

“Yes.” The word hissed from her lips, but from the rough sound of his voice, she had to second-guess how this was going to play out.

Her uncertainty didn’t last long. He smelled so good, a clean spicy scent that warmed her nose, eased her nerves. Sage and cinnamon.

The solid muscles underneath his fitted cotton Henley shirt seemed larger, firmer. If that was possible.

Her back hit the door and he halted less than an inch away.

He reached for her. His hands bracketed her face, drawing her onto her tiptoes. And he looked... yes, he looked like he might kiss her. His confused stare and odd smirk transformed into something much more intriguing.

Yes, yes, yes.

Then his lips seized hers and set her world afire.

She’d been so surprised she’d forgotten to loosen her lips. But when she did, the fit of their lips, the perfect mold, was more than she had hoped for. All that she’d hoped for. She melted into his strong hold and warm lips. He was tender yet insistent. Soft yet firm.

Her mind buzzed.
Remember every detail. Don’t forget a thing.

With capable hands, he tilted her head at a better angle and slipped his tongue along the seam of her lips. A shiver tingled along her skin. Her lips parted. A soft moan slipped through. He groaned and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

Her taste buds roused from deep slumber. Like a chef, she differentiated all the flavors she tasted—champagne, cherry tart, Jude—and savored them all.

This was happening. Jude was kissing her. And she could
taste
him. So good she grew lightheaded.

Why wasn’t she touching him?

She lifted her forgotten hands and glided her palms up his ridged torso, along the soft cotton that stretched across his muscled chest, his pounding heart. She dragged her fingers along his neck, then combed them into his thick hair. How many moments had she imagined doing precisely this?

Running her hands all over his body?

There was so much more to explore. But right now, she was having a difficult time focusing on anything other than the kiss that was making her dizzy and hot. Damn, he had a talented mouth. She’d never felt like she’d been an especially good kisser. Competent maybe. Nothing exciting.

Nothing as exhilarating as this.

This.

The way Jude moved with her, the way his lips and tongue worked her mouth, inspired her to respond with equal fervor, drugged with a bold passion she couldn’t have dreamed up. Who knew she could kiss like this? Or maybe it had been so long she couldn’t remember.

Magnetized by the chemistry, she clung to him. And responded... from the swell of her breasts to the beading of her nipples skimming along her silky dress to the searing heat smoldering low, low in her belly to the curling of her red-painted toes against the sole of her sandals.

He leaned into her, pressing his leg against the curve of her thighs, edging up her dress. She reacted by cuddling closer, crushing her achy breasts against his chest. Her backless dress hadn’t given her the option of a bra. And Jude seemed to realize this as he coasted his hand up and down her spine, stopping short of her thong each time.

Oh, God. Another moan rose from her throat. The moan died, turning into a gasp as he broke the kiss and swiftly lifted her off her feet.

“Jude?” She’d already felt like she was floating. The quick move made the lift seem effortless. Or maybe he was just that strong.

“You’re safe,” he said simply, and she believed him.

She relaxed into his arms, confident in his hold. She nuzzled into his neck, inhaling his clean scent and muted aftershave. Impulse took over and she licked a small path to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.

Yep. Slightly salty, spicy, and all male.
 

“Naomi.” Her name was said with a warning. A warning she refused to heed.
 

She flicked her tongue along the sharp angle of his jaw, remembering the number of times her eyes had been drawn to that spot. He was devastatingly handsome. And she was thankful she finally had the opportunity to show him exactly how much she longed for him.

“Christ.” Jude strode to the tub and sat on the edge with Naomi nestled securely in his lap. His erection pressed against her thigh, as hard and solid and large as the rest of him.

You have to be kidding me.
Her panties suddenly felt uncomfortable against her sensitive flesh. The thin moist strip strained mercilessly against her clit.

“What are you doing to me?” he murmured. His eyes appeared heavy, showing he was as affected as she was.

His hand scraped against the side of her delicate dress, curving along her waist and over her hip. His mouth returned the favor on her neck, licking a path along her beating pulse. She rocked forward on his lap, hoping for some sort of relief. Ragged gasps gushed from her lips.

“Naomi.” His warm breath swept over her ear. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “We have to slow down, baby.”

He was right. She was on sensory overload.

“I don’t care,” she said, surprising herself.

An addict. She’d quickly become an addict.

“I need you, Jude.” Her hand dropped from around his neck and instinct shooed away all good sense as she pressed her palm against his steel-hard cock. One long stroke down and back up again. He was magnificent.

“
Fuck
,” he muttered low and drew in a sharp breath. He grasped her wrist and brought her palm up to his mouth. He pressed his lips there, clenching his eyes closed as if to concentrate. Calm himself.

Good. She was entirely too pleased to see the reaction she could summon from him. At least she wasn’t alone in this frenzied hunger.

A bell rang from another part of the house, causing a renewed streak of warmth to rise up Naomi’s body and settle into her cheeks. Remembering she was in her friend’s bathroom was the cold shower she deserved, she supposed.

Their ten minutes were up.

“I took it too far, didn’t I?” she said, feeling the guilt hit her dizzy head. She’d started this. She’d purposely teased him, revved them both up. And there didn’t seem to be a way to end it. Leave? Yes. Millie would understand. “We should go to my place.”

“No.” He shook his head, his jaw gritted tight as an unusual twinkle lit his eyes. “You and Millie wanted to play this game. We’re going to play it. To the end.”

“Game?” She’d never been a good actress. She tried to look innocent anyway.

“To the end,” he repeated.

“Why? What’s the point in torturing ourselves when we can be completely alone?”

“You want me. You can obviously see the feeling is mutual. But if we’re going to play a game, then I plan on being a participant rather than a pawn. You want to use me as the tool to help you feel again? Then let me do my best to make it worth your while.”

“Alone,” she said in one last protest, her head still spinning. What was going through that clever mind of his?

“Not until I say. Now let’s go before we’re disqualified.” He stood, placing her on her wobbly feet.

Her legs quivered unsteadily and she tried to shake the haze blanketing her.

He picked up the pink razor, then after glancing around, he swiped a roll of toilet paper from its holder. “Good enough. On to the next room.”

LUST.

Her blue eyes gleamed pure lust as she peered up at him once more before leading him out of the bathroom.

Sex was all she was offering—one night.

Jude knew lust. He’d become on expert on the subject. Each woman was slightly different in the way they’d allow themselves to be seduced... turned on. Much like calculating their body’s algorithms. When he thought of it that way, the possibilities were limitless. Discovering and analyzing the wants and desires of women had become a hobby.

A
diversion
.

And now the woman who meant more to him than anyone else was asking—begging—for him to please her.

He wasn’t going to refuse her. No matter that she’d been his best friend’s wife. No matter that she was still grieving. No matter that Jude had secretly loved her from the day Davis introduced them at the homecoming football game his junior year of high school. Twelve after seven on a Friday evening, October 28th. The score had been six to three. The details of the scoreboard were etched in his memory as clearly as the woman before him.

“Hands off,” Davis had murmured after he’d caught Jude staring as Naomi trekked up the bleachers with her friends to join them—her Westwood High tee shirt taut against her pert breasts, her jeans hugging her curvaceous hips and lean legs. He remembered hearing her laughter for the first time, the way she’d smiled up at him and said, “Jude?” Her expression turned serious... enchanting. “‘Hey Jude.’ Isn’t that a Beatles song?”