There You Stand

by Christina Lee

  My fingers reached for his chin, grasping firmly. “How can I not be with you?”

  He gasped but remained silent, allowing me to get my thoughts out. “You mean everything, too.”

  My forehead rested against his as I breathed him in, and the scent of cedar made me heady.

  His eyes searched mine as he reached up to remove my cap and run his fingers through my hair. He grazed his lips against my forehead and then my cheek.

  I felt myself falling into him.

  Impatient to kiss him. Touch him. Be with him.

  I placed one hand behind his neck and the other on the small of his back before my mouth rushed over his. My lips traced over his, top to bottom, before my tongue parted his mouth and nudged inside.

  Just that small taste of him brought the universe back in alignment.

  He brushed his tongue against mine, slow and sexy, until I could barely catch my breath. My fingers dug into his hip; I desperately needed him closer.

  My tongue twined along his, exploring his mouth, while my hands skimmed up and down his spine. I wanted to slide beneath his skin, dissolve into his bones. To make absolutely certain that he would never leave me again.

  His breaths were heavy and hard as I wound my fingers through his hair, pulling him even nearer. He drew my tongue inside his mouth and gently sucked on it until he dragged a whimper from me.

  I tightened my hold on his hips and tugged him forward, bracing myself against the doorframe. He slanted his head to deepen the kiss and I felt every place on his body that touched mine—our thighs, our stomachs, and our chests.

  He traced a fragile line with his thumb along the small of my back, above the loop of my jeans, and I groaned into his mouth.

  “Jude,” I said and we broke apart, breathing heavily.

  I warily turned my gaze to him, my heart bouncing all around my chest.

  “Cory?” he asked, no doubt seeing the agony in my eyes.

  “I just . . . I need to know that this is real. That you’re real,” I whispered. “Do you understand?”

  His eyes held mine for entirely too long as he read something in them.

  “I understand.”

  We didn’t waste any time after that. Or clothes were wrenched off in the hallway. And by the time we made it to my bedroom door, Jude had me facing the wall, my hands above my head, and he was talking in that bossy, commanding voice that I’d fantasized about.

  His groin was rubbing against my hip as he bit and sucked my neck.

  “I need you inside me, Jude. Now.”

  Without saying another word he drove his hard cock against my back and took my mouth in a fervent attack of teeth and tongue and mouth. If he was nervous about topping for the first time, he didn’t show it. He must’ve read the desperation in my eyes.

  “Second drawer,” I whimpered after his tongue dug deep in my mouth and shockwaves ignited through my body.

  “Don’t move.” He backed away from me and I heard the crinkling of a condom wrapper as he suited up and returned to me.

  His fingers were already lubricated and he found my crease, rubbing around my puckered hole until a guttural groan ripped from my throat.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he said, pushing one finger inside. I arched my hips and drove back against his hand as he added a second digit.

  His hand reached around to fist and pump my cock. He swiped a finger across my tip, sending needy pinpricks of desire across my spine. His wet tongue and the small nips on my shoulder drove me to the brink. “Please.”

  “Bend over for me,” he growled against my ear. “I need to take that arse.”

  My legs trembled as I thrust my hips out. He parted my cheeks and I felt a whisper of lips across the small of my back.

  “Fuck,” he shouted as he pushed inside me inch by magnificent inch. I lost my breath and braced my forearms roughly against the wall. The stretch and feeling of fullness was almost too much to bear.

  He stilled, his forehead digging into my shoulder, as he hissed through his teeth. Jude was inside me, and holy fucking Christ it felt unbelievable as flames of heat licked over every square centimeter of my skin.

  “This is too good, Cory,” he grunted. “Fucking brilliant. So damn tight.”

  “Give it to me, Jude,” I said, as the friction and burn transformed into tingles of pleasure rippling across my limbs. I wanted to feel the tightness, the fullness, the blistering sting all the way into next week. “I need this. I need you so much.”

  “Do you believe me now?” Jude’s teeth bit into my shoulder and then he licked the stinging skin to soothe the ache. “I’m fucking real, Cory. This is real.”

  He growled and thrust inside, my shoulders making contact with the hard surface. He fucked me with such determination that stars began to flare in front of my eyes.

  It didn’t take long before I blew completely apart, shivering and shaking and melting against the wall, as Jude’s hands dug further into my hips.

  After Jude chased his own release, his groin propelling against my ass, two thoughts clicked solidly into my brain. Jude York in fact was real. And I’d just had the most intense sex of my life.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Jude and I had fallen into a makeshift routine the next couple of weeks. We’d have lunch or dinner at his place or mine whenever our schedules would allow. But out in public we remained under the radar, attempting to look like nothing more than friends.

  Behind closed doors was a different story. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other and usually ended up in bed, with Jude begging for me to top him and me happily obliging.

  Or we’d skip the meal, preferring to use our time together to talk about everything under the sun, as if making up for lost time—our bodies constantly touching, our mouths perpetually hovering, our fingers frequently entwined.

  “You want my mouth on you?” I’d asked him last night, my fingers hovering above his zipper. I’d stopped over after my night out with the Raw Ink crew. Jude had come by Zach’s Bar to hang out briefly but we always made sure to leave separately.

  He shook his head, practically shivering from the contact. “I want your lips on mine.” Then he urged my fingers to release his swollen cock from the confines of his jeans.

  While I wrapped my fist around his hardness, our mouths rested together, our lips never breaking contact. My tongue licked deeply in his mouth, kissing him at an unhurried pace, while I brought him to climax with my hand.

  It was as if he needed to stare into my eyes, moan into my mouth, and share the same airspace to truly feel connected to me. I’ll admit I needed it as badly as he did.

  I could tell how happy Jude had been to return to his own place with his dog—cooking and cleaning, and walking Chopper along the bay. Like it had become his home. Maybe more home than any other place on the road had been.

  Chopper had advanced to fucking pet of the year in the short amount of time that he’d been with Jude. He was no longer such a whiny pain in the ass and played nicely with other dogs, including Patch. As if Jude was as much the balm to his soul as he’d been to mine.

  ***

  Jude was invited to my grandmother’s house for a spaghetti dinner after my shift at Raw Ink. I planned on meeting him at her front door so I could finally introduce him properly. But it didn’t quite work out as planned.

  Me: Sorry. Running late. Be there in five.

  Jude: Already inside. Your grandmother is great.

  By the time I arrived, I could tell that he and my grandmother had hit it off. He was sitting at her kitchen table drinking a glass of her peach tea while she told him a story about my winning first place in some art show in high school.

  “Already, Grandma?” I said, sliding into a seat across the table from Jude.

  “I don’t mind at all.” Jude winked and smirked at me. “Helps me get to know you better.”

  “Why didn’t you mention how adorable Jude was?” my grandmother said, squeezing my hand. “I can see why you’re s
o smitten with him.”

  Heat crept across my cheeks and I felt like a little kid all over again.

  “Well, I fancy Cory, too,” Jude said, watching me closely, while his foot brushed against mine beneath the chair. “Quite a bit.”

  And now my heart was fluttering against my ribcage like a damn baby bird. Right then I had the urge to blurt my whole heart out to him in the middle of my grandmother’s kitchen. We had yet to really lay it out there to each other. Face to face.

  But I was enjoying my time with him these last several days. It was beginning to feel almost normal. Like we were figuring out our own special rhythm in a world where the drumbeat was constantly changing.

  “Good,” my grandmother said, a smile flitting across her lips as she turned and stirred her sauce. “Cory needs somebody to look after him.”

  Jude and I just stared and smiled at each other like we were sharing some magical secret. A secret that involved hopes and dreams and desires.

  “I’ll set the table,” I said, standing and reaching for the dishes above the sink.

  “Let me help,” Jude said and I pointed him to the utensil drawer.

  Jude complimented my grandmother’s meatballs several times over the course of dinner, which I could tell she relished hearing. She’d smile and pat his arm and then ask him something else about his work at the Board Room or cities he’d visited.

  Jude could be quite the charmer when he wasn’t hiding himself. I could already tell how much my grandmother adored his sense of humor and gentle demeanor.

  I’d been nervous that he wouldn’t share himself with her and only remain quiet, polite, and alert, like he’d continued doing with the rest of the town—outside of the Raw Ink crowd, whom I could tell was growing on him.

  So I was instantly relieved when he’d opened himself to my grandmother without hesitation, as if he were allowing me a special gift. She never pushed for details and he never offered more than he was willing to share, so it was an even and pleasant balance.

  Jude had travelled across the United States and had lots to share about his favorite places on the West Coast. I couldn’t help wondering if we’d ever have the opportunity to travel together, but I also knew what feeling settled meant to Jude as well. After all, he had an entire tree inked on his back, roots and all.

  After Jude and I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, we joined my grandmother on the sofa.

  “Cory, in the dining room curio cabinet,” she said, nudging my elbow with her fingers. “There’s a drawer beneath with some photo albums. Pull out the large brown one for me.”

  “Uh-oh,” I said, swallowing my groan as I stood up and made my way into the other room. “What are you up to?”

  I searched around in the drawer and came across some other albums from my childhood that I quickly rotated and hid at the bottom of the pile.

  “Do you remember that your grandfather and I honeymooned in the English countryside?” she asked me once I sat back down with the book in my hand.

  “Which area?” Jude asked and off they went on an hour-long discussion about their trip and Jude’s childhood, while I got a history in English culture and learned something about my grandmother’s youth in the process.

  They flipped through the pages, all while laughing and talking, as if this was completely natural for us. As if Jude was not in the witness protection program. He was not hiding out from his dangerous stepfather, while a motorcycle gang patrolled the neighborhood noting anything suspicious.

  For this one night it simply felt real.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The following weekend, I walked in to find Jude and my grandmother sitting together at her kitchen table. They had apparently become thick as thieves since the night they’d met. She’d even requested that both Jude and I pick her up from her ladies’ card night a couple of nights before.

  But Jude had been busy at the Board Room that night and after frowning about it, she invited him over to breakfast the next Saturday instead.

  “Have a seat, darling,” she said, placing a plate in front of me.

  “What’s this?” I had asked. It looked like a sausage in the middle of some egg concoction.

  Jude’s face had broken into a stunning grin. “It’s called Toad in the Hole. My mum used to make this for me and my sister in England.”

  His foot slid over mine beneath the table, his hand reaching for my knee, as he took his first bite and declared it to be fantastic.

  I looked over at my grandmother, who was pouring orange juice into short glasses. “I figured he’d want a little taste of home.”

  “Thank you,” I mouthed to her.

  That same afternoon, Jude wheeled his Harley into my grandmother’s garage so I could help him change his brake pads like I had done on my bike the month before. All of my tools were already there and Jude watched as I bled the fluid into an oil pan.

  “Hand me a wrench?”

  He nodded and rummaged around my toolbox.

  “I’m thinking about taking some courses again,” he mumbled, as if unsure of himself.

  “That’s great, Jude,” I said. “What track? Medical?”

  He shrugged. “Or maybe something with animals?”

  “You could talk to Emmy about that.”

  He nodded, seeming more settled about it.

  Afterward we said our good-byes to my grandmother and departed for a longer ride outside of town to test his brakes. We ended up back at my place, so I could feed and walk the dogs.

  Then we had dinner at Jude’s, making for a perfect ending to our day. He broiled steaks, made up a salad, and afterward, I lay back on his couch, sated and sleepy.

  “I want you to stay,” he whispered against my ear. “Wake up in my arms.”

  “You sure?” I asked, adjusting myself against his chest.

  “Let’s take it one night at a time,” he said. “You’re already dozing. You could use a good night of sleep.”

  He was right about that. The shop was busy and my last day off had been a week ago.

  I arched my eyebrow. “We’d only sleep?”

  “You think I can’t lie beside you without groping you?” he scoffed and I laughed. “You wanker. Come on, I’ll prove it.”

  He turned toward me in his warm sheets, kissing me breathless in his bed.

  “Good night, Cory,” he whispered. His fingers burrowed in my hair, massaging my scalp, and I struggled to tamp down the desire that was beginning to flare from having his lips on me, his skin next to mine.

  I shut my eyes and hummed as he kissed my neck, his lips lingering near my throat, and then settled me across his chest.

  “Jude?” I said, my thumb lazily circling his stomach. There was a question I had been gearing up to ask him for days.

  “Hmmm?” he said, his fingers still grazing my temples.

  “That note you wrote me,” I mumbled. “When you had to leave . . .”

  “Meant every single word,” he said without hesitation and then curled his arm over my waist, settling in.

  “Thank fuck,” I murmured. “Because I love you, too.”

  “Bloody hell, Cory,” he said, rolling me over and pressing me firmly into the sheets. “Say it again.”

  I stared into his twinkling eyes, the green darkening to penetrating levels. He looked so earnest right then that my heart practically burst through my chest.

  “I don’t know if I should,” I said, a wry smile twisting my lips. “You called me a wanker. I think that’s a pretty serious offense.”

  “Depends on the context,” he said, his eyes alight with amusement. “I used it with affection.”

  “Affection, huh?” I said and flipped him on his back, pinning him down with my knee. “You sure about that?”

  He bit back a grin as he gazed into my eyes. “Pretty certain.”

  “Well in that case,” I said, my mouth brushing over his lips. “I love you, Jude York.”

  Then I seized his lips in a long and deep and
heated kiss, leaving him as breathless as he had just left me.

  ***

  It felt amazing to wake up in Jude’s bed. Warm and soft and protected. Maybe the world outside of us wasn’t safe but inside his arms—his heart, his soul—I was.

  Dawn was just breaking so I sank back into his sheets to doze for a couple hours more before I needed to let out my dogs.

  “Come fishing with me,” Jude mumbled into the darkness.

  “Now?” I asked, thinking of any excuse to get out of the menial chore. But maybe this time it would be different.

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “I haven’t been in weeks. It’s so beautiful in the morning.”

  “On paddleboards?” I looked at him doubtfully.

  “You can sit down on yours if you’d like,” he said, already throwing off the sheets. “We won’t float far from shore.”

  Grudgingly I got up, figuring I wasn’t getting out of this one very easily.

  “We don’t even have to catch any,” he said, already dressed in shorts and T-shirt. “We’ll throw them back.”

  He sent a quick text to Smoke to tell him what he was up to. From what I learned from Jude about the club, the recruits did the majority of the patrols 24-7 on their territory. Smoke was in charge of keeping tabs on Jude and all seemed to run smoothly thus far.

  The sun was just rising and it warmed our backs as we walked toward the pier. It was a tranquil morning, sleep still fogged our eyes, and my heart was settled and happy. It felt great to simply do something normal together.

  “I’d hold your hand right now if I could,” Jude said, stopping at the crosswalk. “And someday I plan to, Cory Easton.”

  “I look forward to that day,” I said, content with simply strolling beside him to the marina.

  There were only a couple of other fishermen and kayakers out when we arrived at the dock. The sound of a motorcycle engine cut through the quiet of daybreak. I was so used to listening for it that I no longer searched in the direction of the noise.

  Jude grabbed his equipment from the caged locker that he rented near the shore and headed to the water. He stood on his board and used a paddle to help drift himself out into the bay.