HeyJude

by Jayne Kingston

  He’d thought it was funny when he returned home and found Marion cooking breakfast as though she hadn’t just found his new lover getting up to leave, but a small part of him had become nervous as well. His first thought had been to go to Jude and explain, but there had been an underlying fear that Jude wouldn’t want to hear what he had to say, and that was new kind of worry for Michel.

  It had taken him a few minutes to get in touch with Petra for Jude’s address and then another few minutes to explain to her why Jude had left without giving it to him. He’d been hesitant to leave his daughter to go make things right with Jude, but Marion had assured him she wanted to spend the afternoon shopping with her friends anyway. It had become one of the first things she did when she came to the city, which left him free to spend the time before they were supposed to meet for dinner with Jude.

  Jude held Michel’s face in his hands and broke the kiss first.

  “Come on. Let me show you my room,” Jude said.

  He took Jude’s hand and let himself be led to the bedroom. His bed was much smaller than Michel’s, but the slatted wood head and footboards immediately inspired all kinds of dirty ideas for potential fun in the future.

  He caught Jude by the hips after they’d both stepped into the room, pulled his back against his chest and slid his hand under his shirt.

  “I don’t chase after men who get up and leave my bed,” he murmured darkly.

  Jude groaned and pushed his firm ass against Michel’s erection. He reached around and buried one hand in Michel’s hair and ran the other along his thigh.

  “You do now,” he taunted, his voice low and rough.

  Michel bit his neck. “I will not chase you again,” he whispered.

  He’d meant it playfully, but it came across as more of a warning.

  Jude twisted out of his arms. Facing Michel, he said, “I won’t ask you to.”

  He lifted his t-shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. Michel did the same with his sweater. A mischievous little half-smile touched Jude’s kiss-reddened lips. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his workout pants and pulled the elastic away from his body in a little tease, as if he knew Michel couldn’t see what he was exposing.

  “Take them off,” Michel told him quietly as he unbuttoned his own jeans and toed off his shoes.

  He did, slowly, and Michel was swamped with desire for him yet again. Jude stroked his own balls with one hand as he straightened, his fingers sliding languidly over his cock, that naughty smile still in place as though he knew just how much watching him play with himself was torturing Michel.

  “Your turn,” Jude said, tipping his chin, his eyes on the front of Michel’s jeans.

  Jude stepped backward and sat down on the side of the bed when Michel pushed both jeans and boxer briefs over his hips and to the floor, his eyes on Michel’s cock. Jude reached for him and he went, walking right into his arms as he bent to kiss him some more.

  They moved onto the bed together, their mouths feeding desperately off each other, their arms and legs quickly becoming tangled. Jude rolled so Michel was pinned to the bed, rocked his hips and dipped his head to bite the ball of Michel’s shoulder.

  Michel caught Jude’s face in his hands and raised his head so they were eye-to-eye.

  “Don’t make me wait.” He sounded needier than he’d intended, but he didn’t care. He wanted Jude to understand just how much he wanted him, how much he affected him on such a deep, profound level.

  Jude kissed him, slowly and for a very long time before he moved away, opened the nightstand drawer and returned with a condom and some lube.

  “Over and up,” he said, giving Michel’s hip a playful smack.

  Michel rolled onto his stomach and got up on his hands and knees and Jude moved behind him. He ran his hands over Michel’s skin, pressed his cock into the seam of his ass, smoothed his hands around his body and over his chest and bit his shoulder once more. He was going to drive Michel out of his mind if he didn’t speed things up.

  Jude kissed a path down Michel’s spine and his hands never stopped moving, running up and down his arms, over his torso, toying with his nipples, teasing his increasingly needy prick. Michel went down on his elbows and cradled his head in his hands when Jude gripped his ass, spread him wide and licked him from behind his balls to the tip of his spine not once, not twice, but three times in long, slow strokes.

  He teased his anus with the tip of his tongue, circled, swirled, kissed and then did it some more until Michel was moaning in ecstasy. Jude bit him hard on the hip and then Michel nearly laughed with relief when he heard the distinct sound of the condom wrapper being opened, then the cool temperature of the lube being applied to his ass forced that laugh out of him on a breathy rush.

  With his eyes closed and his ass in the air he listened to the sound of Jude slicking his own cock. He shuddered when that slippery hand cradled and gently squeezed his already-tight balls from behind then smoothed over his dick.

  More than ready he looked over his shoulder and said, “Make it rough.”

  With their gazes locked, Jude gripped himself, positioned his thick head and pushed inside Michel in one firm, steady stroke. Michel heard himself cry out and his eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure-pain of Jude filling him to marvelously full tore through him. “Hard,” he managed to say between two rough breaths.

  Jude hooked his fingers around Michel’s hips, withdrew part way and pumped back in fast. And then he was fucking him, driving hard and steady, feeling as though he was plunging deeper with every forward thrust. It was so fucking good. Jude’s breathing became harsher by the second. It seemed as if it were only a matter of several glorious seconds before he was half grunting, half crying out with each forward thrust.

  Jude’s body seized and he began to throb inside of him. After a few shuddering moments he folded himself over Michel’s back and reached around to clutch his cock. It only took a few skilled strokes and Michel bit into the comforter as he came with a deep growl. The feel of Jude wrapped around his body from behind, his cock still half-hard in his ass, the kisses he was leaving on his skin and his hand gripping his dick tight was absolutely glorious.

  After a moment of working to catch their breath, Jude carefully unfolded himself from Michel’s body and Michel rolled onto his back, every muscle now completely spent. Jude stretched out beside him, head propped on his hand.

  “For as much as I used to wish I would get your keys at those old parties, I’m relieved we were never together before last night,” Michel confessed, running the backs of his fingers over Jude’s chest. “Watching you with Petra after you and I had spent the night together would have been difficult.”

  The smile that touched Jude’s mouth made Michel’s heart stutter.

  Jude nodded. “I think it would have been difficult for me to walk away as well.”

  “Then it is a good thing this did not happen until last night.”

  Jude leaned in and kissed him for a long moment.

  “Yes, it is,” he agreed and started to kiss a path down Michel’s neck.

  “Now I get you all to myself.” Michel liked the way Jude chuckled at that.

  He wrapped his arms around Jude and drew him close.

  “Yes, you do,” Jude murmured as he settled against his side, relaxed and starting to become heavy with sleep almost right away.

  “I know it is fast, but I would like if you came to dinner with my daughter and I tonight,” he said, hoping to catch him still awake.

  The breath of Jude’s single, almost silent laugh blew over Michel’s chest.

  “We’ve known each other for years,” Jude said sleepily. “Maybe we were never golf buddies outside of the hospital, but I consider us friends just the same.”

  Michel was exhausted from a lack of sleep, physical exertion and the roller coaster of emotions he’d ridden that morning and was close to slipping into oblivion himself.

  “Yes, but we have been involved less than a day.
” It was a logical argument, but even as he said it Michel was sure it didn’t matter.

  Jude lifted his head. Those gorgeous dark eyes of his crinkled and his beautiful kiss-swollen mouth turned up at the corners, amused.

  “Michel, I would love to officially meet your daughter. What time is dinner?”

  “Not until eight.”

  “Good. There’s time to catch up on some sleep.”

  Michel watched Jude get off the bed and walk to the bathroom from beneath eyelids that were getting heavier by the moment. With the door left open a crack he could hear running water as Jude cleaned himself up then smiled when he returned with a warm, wet washcloth and a small towel for him a minute later.

  Michel got under the blankets when Jude turned them down on one side, then pulled them all the way over their heads with a mischievous smile. After a few minutes of slow, lazy kissing Jude fitted himself against Michel’s back and wrapped an arm loosely around his chest.

  “I love the way you smell,” he whispered, causing the bottom to drop out of Michel’s stomach before he felt him go heavy with sleep.

  Michel lay there awake for a few more minutes, his mind still working. Their night together had been unbelievable. He’d gone to the bakery that morning riding the high of his life and probably grinning like a fool while he waited to get coffee and pastries for his incredible new lover. There had been a real panic behind the amusement he’d felt when he got home and Marion told him about the way Jude had run out.

  Michel knew Jude probably misunderstood the situation, but part of him had also been worried Jude wouldn’t want to hear his explanation. He was thankful it turned out to be an unfounded fear, as unsettling as that fear had been.

  He pressed back into Jude, whose breath had become slow and steady in sleep, and smiled to himself. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Jude he didn’t chase after anyone. He just hadn’t mentioned Jude was the first person he’d met who was worth chasing so he could explain himself.

  Chapter Six

  Jude wasn’t quite sure how, but the buzzing of his phone woke him up all the way from the kitchen. He managed to slip out of bed without waking Michel, pulled on his workout pants and closed the door most of the way as he left his bedroom.

  It stopped ringing before he could answer it but went off again in his hand as he was checking the missed calls list.

  “You were sleeping,” Petra said when he answered.

  “And now I’m not,” Jude countered, smiling as he poured a cup of coffee from the carafe Michel had brewed earlier. “Why are you fretting?”

  There was a pause. “I’m not fretting,” she came back coolly.

  “Two text messages followed by back-to-back phone calls is fretting when it’s coming from you.” He took a sip of the coffee and nearly choked on it. Damn it was strong.

  “Fine,” she conceded curtly. “Why did Michel have to call me for your address? How horrible was the date if he didn’t get that or your phone number last night?”

  Jude walked out of the kitchen and headed toward the living room. “No one said the date was horrible, Petra. And we shouldn’t be talking about his with him sleeping in the other room.”

  Another long, meaningful pause. “He’s there.”

  He opened the front curtains to his view of the Lincoln Park Zoo and Lake Michigan beyond. “Yes. Thanks to you giving him information I may or may not have wanted him to have.”

  “So things didn’t go wrong?”

  He took another sip of his coffee. That one went down a little more smoothly.

  “There was a minor misunderstanding this morning, but aside from that things went very well,” he told her. Admitting it out loud made something warm and good and wonderful stir deep within his gut. “Thanks for not listening to me. You know, about the not-setting-me-up thing.”

  Jude turned when he heard the sound of the coffee carafe clunking against the brewer in the kitchen and found a barefoot, shirtless Michel pouring himself a cup.

  “Lunch tomorrow?” Petra asked as if she could tell he should get off the phone.

  “One o’clock at the usual place,” he answered.

  “I’ll be expecting all the gory details.”

  “I might give you one or two.”

  “I love you, Jude,” she told him, the smile clear in her voice.

  “I love you too,” he said and hung up.

  Michel stood in the archway between the kitchen and dining room, watching Jude over the rim of his coffee as he took a long drink. His hair was gorgeously disheveled, waving back from that face made even more handsome by the shadow of beard stubble.

  “You did not have to get off the phone for me,” he said, his voice deep and a little rough with sleep.

  “It was Petra.” Jude set the phone on an end table next to the couch. “Checking in to make sure everything was all right.”

  “And what did you tell her?” Michel asked with a mischievous smile.

  Jude could do nothing but watch as he headed toward Jude, his pace slow and his gait loose-hipped and easy.

  “I didn’t tell her much of anything,” Jude said with a smirk of his own.

  Michel chuckled. “It must be killing her.”

  Jude laughed. “Well she’s just going to have to suffer a little longer.”

  He slid his free hand around Michel’s waist as he stepped close and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to Jude’s lips. Yeah, Jude could get used to that strong-as-hell coffee when it tasted so good on Michel’s mouth.

  “I should go,” Michel said, sounding as reluctant as Jude felt about him leaving. “We slept a lot longer than I thought we would.”

  “I don’t know about you,” Jude planted a quick kiss on the side of Michel’s neck, “but I slept better than I have in a long time.”

  Michel groaned quietly and the grip he had on Jude tightened. “I did too.”

  Jude took Michel’s coffee out of his hand, set both mugs on the nearby coffee table and held Michel’s face in his hands. “One more kiss before you go.”

  “Only one more,” he said right before Jude covered his lush mouth hungrily.

  The kiss was no less thrilling than their first had been. His mouth was no less fascinating as their lips moved together and their tongues danced in a slow advance and retreat that made Jude’s entire body rock with the motion.

  Michel muttered a curse in French as they came apart. He opened his eyes and Jude would have been staggered by the arousal in them if they hadn’t been holding each other upright. He licked his bottom lip and Jude groaned.

  “Okay, maybe two more,” Michel said, and they came together again, laughing.

  * * * * *

  Dinner was laid-back and easy. Michel’s daughter was so much like him Jude was caught off guard by the similarities in their behavior several times. She had that same outwardly aloof exterior but was just as warm and open as her father once she got past a sort of initial shyness. She and Jude quickly found their own way of communicating so that Michel had to translate less and less throughout the night.

  It was interesting for Jude to watch Michel in the role of dad. It suited him very well. If Jude hadn’t already known better he would have thought Michel had raised her all her life instead of just having met her a year earlier.

  The night quickly took a hilarious turn when their server discovered Marion was deaf. Not only did he speak sign language, but he was a year ahead of her at Northwestern and he was clearly smitten with her. He wasn’t the least bit intimidated by Michel’s haughty, protective-father act. He flirted with her no matter how much bluster Michel tried to heap on him. The bluster might have been more effective if Michel had meant it, but it was clear he thought the kid’s instant crush on his daughter was just as charming as Jude did.

  Jude didn’t blame the kid for practically tripping over himself in the girl’s presence. She knew exactly how to work her big dark eyes and pouty mouth to her advantage. And when she stopped playing it coolly indifferent
and started to flirt back, the effect was absolutely stunning.

  The server met up with them later at an all-night coffee-and-pie place where they all had dessert and talked until the wee hours of the morning. Michel pretended he wasn’t looking when the kid programmed his number into Marion’s phone. In return Marion pretended she wasn’t looking when Michel kissed Jude good night when they dropped him off at his apartment later.

  Jude had just gotten off the phone with his father the next morning when there was a knock on his door. He looked through the peephole and the bottom dropped out of his stomach for what felt like the hundredth time in the past day and a half.

  He opened the door to find Michel—dressed in his black peacoat over an off-white sweater and jeans, a lightweight, royal-purple scarf tied stylishly around his neck—holding a cup carrier with two coffees and a bakery bag wedged between them.

  “Hungry?” he asked, giving Jude that stunning smile.

  Jude stepped back so he could come inside.

  “Starved.” His grip on the doorknob tightened when Michel stopped to kiss him.

  Face close and voice low, Michel asked, “So you forgive me for dropping by uninvited?”

  Jude slid his hand around the back of Michel’s head. “You officially have an open invitation to drop by anytime.” He kissed him once more and took the cup carrier so Michel could take off his jacket. “And you don’t have to bring coffee for me to let you in, just so you know.”

  He closed the door as Michel came all the way into the apartment.

  “Have you and Marion already gone apartment hunting?” Jude asked, taking his loot to the kitchen with his heart beating quickly in his chest and his cock already getting hard.

  No one had ever had the effect on Jude that Michel did. It was wonderful and intoxicating and frightening all at the same time.

  “She wanted the first one we looked at.” Michel hung his coat over the back of a dining room chair and followed Jude to the kitchen. “We signed the lease and then went to look at furniture. She’s out shopping for sheets and towels with her friends now.”

  “So you’re free for the rest of the day?” Jude asked, trying not to sound too hopeful as he opened the bag and peeked inside. “Cinnamon biscotti?”