by R. C. Martin
A week ago, he was kissing me good morning before assuring me there was always time for coffee. In that moment, he was like a dream. If what happened between us will never happen again, I need to know why.
I open my eyes and immediately wish that I was anywhere other than where I am. I look down my body and see Diana’s arm flung across my chest, her leg hooked over the top of mine. As if last night hadn’t been bad enough, this moment right here is proof positive that she was not a good idea. Yes, we both got off, but it felt as if her every move was calculated and sure. She wasn’t shy. She wasn’t timid. She was familiar. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but last night—last night, it wasn’t enough.
I move out from beneath her body, not bothering to do so carefully. It’s time for her to go. I hear her yawn as I make my way to the bathroom, and I’m confident that by the time I get out of the shower, she’ll be fully awake. While I stand underneath the hot water, I decide that I need a fresh catch—a better distraction; at the very least, someone who doesn’t know my body as well as Diana or Cierra. I’d like to experience the illusion of a timid woman whose passion simmers deep within, needing just the right touch—my touch—to light her fire.
The instant I think of Teddy, and the way her body would respond to mine in the most minute ways, I feel myself growing hard. I turn the nob in front of me, causing the water to run cold. It tamps down my lust, for the time being anyway, and I shake off the chill as I turn off the faucet and step out of the shower. I rub my towel over my head before wrapping it around my waist. I slick back the dark strands of my hair with my hands as I re-enter my bedroom. Diana is sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in last night’s attire as she checks her phone. When she hears me, she offers me a tired, lopsided smile.
“You totally wore me out last night. I don’t know how you’re up.”
“I’m a busy man. I don’t have the luxury of sleeping the morning away.”
“Ah, yes,” she hums as she stands, making her way toward me. “I, on the other hand, need the rest. I’m going home to crash,” she says, as if her leaving is her idea. I let her think that, content to bid her farewell. “See you around, big guy.” She lifts up onto her tip toes, reaching for a kiss. I press my lips to the corner of her mouth before I tell her goodbye. I watch her as she leaves my bedroom, listening as I hear the front door open and close; then I head back to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.
I put my car in park as I watch a woman exit Judah’s house. My stomach drops as I stare at her in complete and utter disbelief. Even all wrinkly, she makes the walk of shame look like a damn runway show. All the air in my lungs rushes out in a huff as I force myself to stop gawking while she backs out of Jude’s driveway. Then, for the next five minutes, I wonder why I came all the way over here. I think about dropping his clothes on his doorstep and going back home, but then a spark of indignation ignites within me. I came here for answers, and I will see my mission through, no matter what the outcome.
I march my way to his front door and ring the doorbell. When he doesn’t answer right away, I ring it again—twice. Then he’s there—here—filling the doorway. He’s so incredibly gorgeous that I forget to breathe for a second. He appears to have just gotten out of the shower, his hair still damp, his chest bare, and the top button of his pants undone, revealing the waistband of his boxer briefs. Given who just left, and his current lack of clothing, I’m going to wager a guess that he was expecting a sexy blonde—not me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, narrowing his eyes on me.
My heart drops, my indignation from a moment ago hanging on by a thread. I open my mouth to speak, but then I realize I have no idea what to say. None of the scenarios I played out in my head on the way over here involved another woman leaving in last night’s clothes. So, without a word, I thrust his belongings at his bare chest. He grabs them as I begin to pull away, his fingers brushing over mine. The touch of his skin makes my whole hand tingle, and my anger disappears, leaving only my humiliation and hurt feelings.
“How could you?” I blurt out.
“It’s really quite simple, Teddy. I changed my mind.”
I blow out a sigh, tears welling up in my eyes. I’m both surprised and confused by his cold response. “But I—I don’t understand. Why? What happened? What did I do?”
“You played me for a fool—and I am no one’s fool.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, growing exasperated with his vague responses.
He tosses his clothes behind him as he takes a step toward me, forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him. “Seven days. You told me to go seven days without having sex with anyone. I never pegged you as a slut, Teddy, but I thought the same rules would apply to you.”
I scrunch my face as I try and make sense of what he’s saying. I come up short.
“I haven’t had sex with anyone!”
“Then who was the blonde fuck with his tongue down your throat Thursday night?” I jerk away from him, trying to piece together the last couple of nights in an attempt to figure out what he thinks he knows. He misinterprets my movement and shakes his head at me in obvious distain. “Don’t feed me your lies. I saw you. At The Tap Room.”
I gasp, reaching my hands up to cover my face as it all suddenly becomes perfectly clear. Then I replay his words—who was the blonde fuck with his tongue down your throat? I drop my hands and cringe at the thought of making out with Geoff. “His tongue was definitely not in my mouth. Ew,” I mutter.
“The fuck?” he spits out with an irritated frown. “I don’t care—that’s not the point.”
“Yes! Yes, it is! The blonde you’re referring to? He’s my best friend. That was not a date. He’s not into me, and I’m not into him.”
“You let all your friends kiss you like that?” he asks, his shoulders rising and falling in a defiant shrug.
“No. I let all my gay friends kiss me like that.”
He backs up a step, as if caught off guard by my response. “What?”
“Yeah. Geoffrey—six-one, blonde hair, blue eyes, built like a Viking—he’s doesn’t have any interest in my vagina. In fact, not that this is any of your concern, but he’s getting over a really hard breakup. So while you were, apparently, watching us, making assumptions, he was drinking and helping me flirt with you via text! As for the blonde who just left your lovely abode, I doubt she kept you up all night with her dazzling conversation.”
I take a deep breath and will myself to calm down. “You know what? That’s none of my business. I came over here to check on you—or to get answers as to why you stood me up last night. Well, now I know.”
I turn to leave, take one step, and then find a little gumption hidden within me. After two restless nights of sleep, I’m running on adrenaline and coffee, and I’m feeling a little unbalanced. I decide to use it to my advantage. I spin back around, pointing a finger at him before I ask, “You know what you are? A coward. You’re so afraid that someone is going to mistreat you that you won’t even give a girl a chance. You could have just asked me, Judah! I would have been honest with you. I’ve never given you anything less than truth.”
You know what you are? A coward.
Her words circle their way around my head as I watch her turn to leave for the second time. She doesn’t get two steps before I lunge after her, snaking my arm around her waist as I lift her from her feet and carry her inside. She gasps, but she doesn’t fight me as I shut us in, spinning her around before I press my body flush against hers, trapping her against the door.
“I’m not a fucking coward,” I declare before crushing my lips against hers.
The sound she makes at my contact goes straight to my dick, sending a message to my entire body that this is what I’ve been craving. She is who I want.
The kiss only lasts but a couple seconds, just long enough for her to find her fight to push me away. She’s not nearly strong enough to make me move, but I get the hint—her small hands pressed
firmly against my bare chest. In this moment, she’s showing me glimpses of her wild and I love it. Against my better judgment, all I want is more.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking what’s mine.”
“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You,” I answer matter-of-factly.
“Are you kidding me? You stood me up last night—or have you recently been diagnosed with amnesia? Do you not recall the blonde who left here not ten minutes ago?”
“She’s not mine,” I reply with a shrug. “Never has been. Never will be.”
“But I am?” I nod, appalled at how easy it is for me to tell her as much. “Shit,” she mumbles, pressing her head back against the door as she frowns up at me. “I’m so confused.”
“Nothing to be confused about, Teddy. You’re mine now. End of story.” I kiss her again. This time, I manage to slip my tongue into her mouth before she pushes me away.
“No. Stop! I waited up for you, Jude. I waited—and you were out with her!” As she says the words, her eyes fill with tears. Just like a few minutes ago, her glassy stare hits me square in the gut. I’ve made her nervous, I’ve made her anxious, I’ve turned her on, and I’ve ignited her wild—but it disturbs me to see her cry, especially knowing it’s my fault.
“Last night was a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” she shrieks. “Bullshit, Judah. Let me go.”
“I can’t,” I mutter, cupping my hands around her face.
“What do you mean? You can. You have!”
A tear leaks out of the corner of her eye, and I’m quick to wipe it away with my thumb. As I gaze down into her beautiful brown irises, I wonder how it is that I got here? I wonder what it is about her that cripples me? I wonder—but I don’t question. What I know is that when she turned to walk away from me, I couldn’t bare to see her go. I want so much more of her. I’m certainly not going to stand here and promise her forever. I don’t believe in forever. But I know that there’s no way in hell I’m letting another man touch her. Even knowing that Geoffrey is no more than her best friend, it doesn’t dull the anger that accompanied seeing him put his lips on her.
She’s meant to be mine. At least for now, as long as I so choose. Her body knows it. My body knows it. My head is suddenly aware, and now all that’s left is making sure she understands—she belongs to me.
“Let’s cut the bullshit. I get what I want when I want it—except for you. You’ve got me playing by your rules.”
“You broke my rules,” she interrupts.
“I thought you broke them first!” I argue. “I was pissed. Don’t you get it? Last night wasn’t about a quick fuck—it was about you.”
She shakes her head at me, reaching up to wrap her hands around my wrists. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I was jealous,” I admit, the words tumbling from my mouth just as realization strikes. My eyes dance around her face, taking in every delicate detail that I admire, and I know what I’ve spoken is truth. “I don’t get jealous, Teddy. But you—fuck. You,” I whisper, touching my forehead against hers. “You make me jealous.”
“So-so what—what does that mean?”
“It means, this just turned into a two-man game. You and me.”
“You and me?” she murmurs in disbelief.
“You. And me,” I say once more before my mouth collides with hers. This time, when I pry her lips open with my tongue, rather than resist me, she hesitantly reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck, gently pulling me closer. I let go of her face, circling my arms around her waist as I lift her from her feet, locking her against my chest. She squeezes me tighter, her body proclaiming her surrender—and victory is mine.
Now, so is she.
I can’t make myself pull away. Not this time. Not with his strong arms crushing me against his hard chest, lifting me from off of the ground. He feels so good. Too good. My hands are wrapped around his neck, my arms resting on the warm, bare skin of his shoulders, and all I can think about is how much I want to sink my fingers into his fragrant, damp hair.
You and me.
I can’t say for sure what that means. Everything that’s happened since he’s opened the door is like one confusing jumble of words and feelings.
You make me jealous.
A soft moan slips from my mouth, sliding into his. I shouldn’t be kissing him. I shouldn’t want to wrap my entire body around his. I shouldn’t want him this badly—not after the way he treated me last night; not after watching that bosomy blonde stroll out of here a few minutes ago—but I do. I still want this kiss. I still want to get lost in him. I still want him. The man who sends me flowers and has my dry cleaning delivered. The man who cooks me dinner and serves me wine, all the while giving me glimpses of who he is—who he really is.
Underneath his suit and his perfect hair, behind his gorgeous grey eyes and his dangerously sexy smile—beneath his armor that protects his heart—he’s someone I want. It scares me, but I like it. No, I love it. I love the way he makes my heart race and my insides burn. I love the way he holds me, the way he kisses me, the way he looks at me. No one has ever made me feel so alive, so desirable, and so special.
It’s been over four years since I’ve even allowed myself to fall for someone. I’m always so careful, keeping myself distant and unavailable. I don’t want to fight this, I don’t want to fight him—I want Judah. But can I trust him?
“Wait. Jude, stop,” I murmur against his lips.
He pulls away only enough for me to be able to breathe. “What?” he asks, tracing his nose against mine. His fresh minty breath is hot against my face, and for a moment, all I can do is stare at his lips. “Teddy?”
My eyes shoot up and lock with his, and I blurt out the question that’s on the tip of my tongue. “How do I know you won’t stand me up again? How do I know you won’t jump in bed with another woman when we have another…misunderstanding?”
“I won’t,” he simply states.
“But how do I know?”
“Because I’m telling you. I won’t.”
I shake my head at him, sliding my hands to his shoulders as I try pushing away from him. “Last night—”
“Last night was last night,” he insists, sliding one of his hands around the back of my neck, keeping me close. “Today, there are a new set of rules.”
“Rules of exclusivity?”
“Precisely,” he says, rubbing his thumb up and down the side of my neck.
“But I thought—I mean, you told me—” I can hardly think with the way he’s touching me, his eyes staring into mine. I shake my head clear and try again. “You don’t do relationships.”
“I have plenty of relationships, Teddy,” he quips.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
“I want you, Theodora,” he says, gently squeezing my neck, sending a rush of tingles down my spine. “I want you and I don’t want anyone else to have you.”
I study him for a moment, trying and failing miserably not to latch onto his words. “I’m still not having sex with you,” I say, my voice so soft, even I can hardly hear it.
A sly smile pulls the corner of his mouth before he presses his against mine. “I’ve told you before, I’m capable of waiting. I’m not an animal.” He kisses me again. “Besides, as long as these lips are mine.” He kisses me once more. “I’m not worried,” he whispers.
I open my mouth to to speak, but I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting any of this; and yet he’s managed to tell me everything I didn’t know I wanted to hear. When he kisses me one last time before returning me to my feet, I realize that the truth is—even if I ran away from this, he’d still have me. He’s had me this whole time.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, reaching down to button his khakis.
“What?”
“Have you eaten?”
“Um…no, I haven’t. Not really.”
“Stay for break
fast. I’m going to put a shirt on. I’ll meet you upstairs.”
He turns away from me, headed to his room without even giving me a chance to agree. I watch him go, checking out the entire length of his backside until he’s out of sight. I bite my lip, fully aware that the last fifteen minutes are proof that he’s definitely an asshole.
But apparently he’s my asshole.
That thought makes me smile all the way to his kitchen.
When I told Geoffrey that I had a date Sunday after church, he insisted that I come over for dinner, claiming I had a lot of explaining to do. He was right, so I didn’t argue. I arrived at his place the same time as the Chinese food delivery guy. As we sat down to eat, I told him everything. At first, he was pissed; but it wasn’t long before we were both laughing at the fact that Judah had mistaken us for a couple. Then we got into a debate about which one of us started our kissing habit. Neither of us could really remember, but we agreed that we were probably intoxicated the first couple of times.
I didn’t stay over late, wishing to get to bed early. A good night’s rest was definitely in order, and I was looking forward to church—in need of some Jesus time to keep my mind busy throughout the morning.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous about how the afternoon will go. I know that over breakfast yesterday morning, he insisted that he planned on taking me out today, but I’ve heard that before. Three days ago. Until he knocks on my door, I’m just holding on to hope.