by R. C. Martin
“Just say it. Once. You’re falling for her. Say it.”
“Judah!”
He couldn’t hear her voice—but he didn’t need to. He was looking straight at her, and she at him. It didn’t matter how many people were crowded around her. It didn’t matter how loud the music or the distance which separated them, he knew she was beckoning him.
“Come dance with me!” he saw her say, her arms lifted above her head and her fingers waving him to her.
“You go out there, and it’s as good as saying the words,” goaded Benjamin.
“Judah!”
She was drunk and happy. He had seen to that, and he knew it. The last thing he was going to do was ruin it. Turning toward his brother, he shrugged his way out of his jacket and muttered a curse.
Tossing his garment onto a nearby couch, he muttered, “The birthday girl wants me to dance, I’m going to fucking dance.”
Benjamin laughed as Judah took his leave, but he didn’t feel mocked. He knew it was only a matter of time before Harper got his brother out on the dance floor, too. He wasn’t concerned about Benjamin or his theories, he was only worried about the woman who had chosen him for the night. He was so intent on making his way through the crowd, he didn’t notice the leggy brunette who called his name. It wasn’t until she was standing directly in front of him—her hands pressed against his chest, her body a breath away from his, and her pale blue eyes focused on him—that he came to an abrupt halt.
“Hey, Stranger.”
“Aimee.”
He said her name like it was a statement in and of itself. In a way, it was. Before him was a woman who had been a part of his past—a frequent but never permanent guest in his bed. It startled him to see her; though, it wasn’t her mere presence that caught him off guard. It was his complete lack of interest. Almost a year had gone by since he last saw her; and there was a finality, of which he wasn’t fully cognizant, expressed by simply stating her name.
“I thought you moved. Did you move back?” She reached for his tie and gave it a playful tug as she went on to say, “Shame, shame for not calling me.”
He brushed her hand away from him deftly and replied, “I did move. I haven’t moved back. I’m only in town for the night.”
“Oh? Are you here alone? I’m with some friends, but I’d be more than happy to ditch them. It’s been a long time since I’ve been fucked as well as you can give it.”
Judah stared at her for a moment, contemplating her offer. His lack of interest juxtaposed with Benjamin’s jibe less than five minutes prior put him in an introspective place he hadn’t yet been willing to entertain. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to confront the truth, but that the reality of his circumstances made it impossible for him to ignore it.
“Jude,” Aimee called to him through a smile. Boldly, she slipped her hand around his middle and inquired, “Since when does a night with me require so much thought? Tell me you’re still just as reckless in bed as you’ve always been. It’s what I liked most about you.”
Her touch didn’t tempt him. It reminded him who it was he desired, and all the reasons why he did. While, in the end, he ran the risk of his choice being a foolish one, it didn’t change his mind. At least, not that night—and if Judah was anything, he was a man who believed in living in the present.
Thoughts of Teddy beckoned him to look beyond Aimee in search of her. When his gaze crashed into hers right away, he grew stiff in surprise. She was closer than he anticipated, and he could tell by the expression on her face how she had interpreted his current conversation. Gone was the joy that had been radiating from her very being since the moment they laid eyes on each other earlier that night. He didn’t like being responsible for the frown that tugged at her brow; and the truth about what he wanted fueled his actions.
He shook his head and then lifted his hand to beckon her with a crook of his finger. Teddy hesitated for a beat but then obeyed. Aimee, having caught on to the possibility that Judah was not alone, glanced over her shoulder. While she wasn’t looking, Judah removed her hand from his side. This act caused her to shift her attention onto Judah once more. She lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, but Judah felt no responsibility to explain himself.
As soon as Teddy was in reaching distance, Judah took her hand and pulled her against his side. She responded exactly as he hoped, tucking herself against him. He dropped her hand only to reach up and gently hold the back of her neck, burying his fingers in her long, straightened hair.
“Seriously?” Aimee scoffed, in an attempt to mask her feelings of rejection. “Is she old enough to be in here?”
Ready to be rid of her, Judah replied, “Aimee, this is my girlfriend, Teddy.”
He watched the reaction of the woman in front of him, but he could feel the reaction of the woman wrapped around him. Both of them were shocked, which brought with it an unexpected thrill.
It was Aimee who spoke first when she said, “Girlfriend? You—St. Michaels—with a girlfriend? Yeah, right.”
Ignoring her, Judah replied, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve been asked to dance.”
Without another word, he guided Teddy further into the crowd, until they were swallowed up in the middle of the dance floor. Yet, even amongst so many people moving about around them, when Teddy turned and pressed her hands against Judah’s chest, it felt as though they were alone.
“You—you just called me your girlfriend,” she informed him, as if he needed reminding.
“I did,” he answered simply.
“Am I? I mean—did you mean it?”
He didn’t answer her right away. Staring into her eyes, seeing her question reflected there, he knew there was no going back. Unwittingly, he’d started something with the woman weeks ago; something he couldn’t stop; something he couldn’t explain; something that felt bigger than a choice. Judah didn’t believe in such a thing as fate. He thought it foolish to leave his life to the realm of chance. Yet, what he wanted with Teddy went against the grain of his routine. Even still, he convinced himself he could change his mind when he wanted—and he didn’t want to just then.
“I’m a lot of things, sweetheart,” he told her, pulling her close as he broke the silence between them. “A liar is not one of them.”
“And you’re not just saying that?” she begged to know. Pressing up onto her tiptoes, she leaned into him and said, “I know I’m drunk, but I won’t forget in the morning. I’ll remember. I’ll remember this.”
With her on her toes, Judah didn’t have to bend far before his lips were grazing hers. He wasn’t sure if she’d hear him, but he thought she’d get the idea when he murmured, “You better,” before he sealed his word with a kiss.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I wasn’t sure whether it was the pounding in my head that woke me, or if simply waking initiated the pounding in my head—but the drum which beat steadily in that space right above my nose was torturous. When I peeked open my eyes and was assaulted with an abundant amount of sunshine, I moaned and buried my face in my pillow. Except, the silky texture of the pillowcase and the sheets I was tangled in were different than the jersey fabric I had at home. I opened my eyes again, squinted across the horizon of the bed, and realized I slept with Judah. Only, I couldn’t remember making that decision.
In an attempt to piece together the previous evening, I forced myself to become fully aware of my current state. It didn’t take long for me to notice I was in a t-shirt and nothing else. As if only seeing was believing, I lifted the sheets and glanced down at myself for confirmation. Clutching the sheets to my chest, I laid wide-eyed in a state of mild panic. Not only could I not remember getting into Judah’s bed, I couldn’t remember who had taken off my dress or my underthings. Try as I might, I couldn’t remember anything beyond—
Gasping, I sat upright. Immediately after, I regretted it, but as I held my head in my hands, I recalled the moment in which Judah called me his girlfriend. I replayed the kiss we shared in the middle of the dance floor
right after that. Never in my life had I kissed a man like that in front of so many people; but I didn’t care. Not in that moment, and not the morning after, either. He had claimed me, and it was so unexpected and exciting. It was what I wanted; it was a desire I was sure I wouldn’t have been brave enough to put into words, but I didn’t have to. He had done it, and I was his, and it was liberating. Even more, it was my favorite gift of the entire night.
I wanted him. So badly. To admit that, to feel that, to embrace that—it felt like freedom in a way I wasn’t sure I believed was attainable. In all honesty, without him, it wasn’t attainable. He sparked a desire deep within no one had been able to do in years. And rather than run from him, I made the choice to trust him and to trust myself—which led me to…
I still couldn’t remember how I’d ended up in his bed—with no underwear on.
Recognizing I might get some answers if I could find Judah, I gulped down a huge breath and then gingerly climbed out of his bed. As soon as my feet hit the ground, my bladder alerted me it was at capacity, and I walked as fast as my head would allow to the toilet. After I’d taken care of all that, I was surprised to find my toothbrush at the sink. That seemed like a clue that should have jogged some part of my memory, but it didn’t. Nevertheless, I made use of it before I went looking for Judah.
Not too interested in how I looked, I barely gave my reflection any consideration. My makeup was faded, I knew. I rubbed any access mascara from underneath my eyes as I padded my way through the bedroom. Fortunately, I knew my bedhead wasn’t too embarrassing, since my locks were straightened. Mostly, I really just wanted to know where my underwear was.
I heard him in his office before I could see him. Something about my current state made me feel incredibly self-conscious, and I smoothed his t-shirt down my front and back to ensure I was properly covered. It was as presentable as I was going to get, whether I liked it or not. Of course, when I reached the doorway of his office, the sight of him made me feel no better. Behind his desk, he was as gorgeous and debonair as always.
He was sporting the stubble which had grown on his face overnight—and it was delicious. Yet, in spite of his unshaven state, it was obvious he’d been up for a while. He was fully dressed and obviously hard at work. His tan khakis were fitted and perfect. The navy polo he wore had white stripes that seemed to make a statement, which was something along the lines of: it’s Friday, and this is as casual as I know how to be.
For a second, I forgot to be self-conscious because I remembered he was mine.
“She wakes,” he said, looking my way.
“Hi.”
My voice was husky and airy from lack of use. The sound of it, in conjunction with my current state and whatever time of the morning it was, made me blush.
“How are you feeling?” he inquired with a smirk.
“Hungover,” I grumbled.
“The aftereffects of a birthday well spent, I’d say.”
I offered him a nod, but then I couldn’t hold back anymore. I needed to know.
“How much of me did you, um…see? Last night, I mean.”
His smirk stretched into a grin, and he leaned back in his chair as he replied, “Nothing new.”
“Really?” I asked, feeling skeptical.
“Really. You insisted you were perfectly capable of undressing yourself, so I respected your wishes.”
“Oh. Okay.” I felt a modicum of relief. Yet, still, what he said didn’t jog my memory in the least. When I reached up to tuck a bit of hair behind my ear, the hem of his shirt lifted a little, and I blurted, “And—what about, I mean—where is my underwear?”
Laughing, he told me, “You threw them in my dry-cleaning bin, along with your dress.”
“Oh, god,” I groaned, suddenly mortified.
“Come here, Teddy.”
I hesitated for a moment. But only just. When he spun his chair, as if to make room for me, I all of a sudden wasn’t a fan of the distance which separated us. Slowly—still mindful of my aching head—I made my way toward him. As soon as I was in reaching distance, he leaned toward me and slid his hands around the back of my thighs. He guided me into the space between his legs and tickled me with his gentle touch almost absentmindedly.
“Harper dropped by a few hours ago, before she headed home. She brought your keys and a bag. She told me to tell you to call her as soon as you felt human again.”
“Hours? Oh, my gosh—what time is it?”
“Almost noon.”
“Shit,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry.” I buried my face in my hands as I realized what that meant. “You should be at work, and I—I’m sure it was my idea to sleep here, and I was probably annoying about it, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop apologizing.”
As he said the words, he skimmed his hands higher up my thighs. I lowered my hands just enough to peek over my fingertips, and he nudged me until I understood what he wanted. My stomach tingled as I took hold of his shoulders and straddled him. He then palmed my backside, and my breath caught in my throat.
“If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be. You know you’re always welcome in my bed.”
I took a second and let his words settle between us. Then I plucked up the courage and asked, “As your…girlfriend?”
Feeling his way up toward my hips and across the small of my back, he muttered, “I told you I meant it.”
I nodded slightly, then leaned into him. Touching my forehead to his, I settled into him—into the moment—into the intimacy I didn’t recognize a second before.
“Why now?” I whispered. “Why me?”
He slid his hands even further up underneath the shirt on my back and pulled me closer. My nipples hardened as my chest was pressed against his, and the feel of his breath on my lips somehow made my lungs shrink.
“When given the choice between you and another, I keep wanting you.” He brought one of his hands around to my front, until he could graze his thumb over my nipple, and I couldn’t silence my whimper. “I can’t promise you anything,” he went on to say, his voice soft and rumbly. “But this is my choice today.”
I could barely wrap my head around his words. My mind was in a hungover haze, clouded with lust, and I didn’t want to think about how long I would be his choice. I didn’t need forever—I just wanted him right then. I wanted the promise of that day. I wanted the freedom that came with living in the present rather than hiding from my past. So his answer was enough. He was enough.
No—he was more than enough.
He kissed me, and it was only then that I became fully cognizant of all my feelings. There were too many to name, let alone control—which left me completely vulnerable and exposed and not guarded enough to care. I kissed him unabashedly, and I luxuriated in his touch. He took my breath away, and it felt so good. I wasn’t even embarrassed that I was bottomless and aroused and likely soiling his pants as he grew hard beneath me. The moment I wanted to take off his shirt, and I imagined him taking off mine, I stopped him. Stopped myself.
“Wait,” I panted, pressing my hands against his chest.
He obeyed without question, and it made me want him all the more. Though, the more air I breathed, the more my logic and reason returned.
“We should—like, talk about—this.”
“I thought that’s what we were doing,” he countered, gripping my naked sides.
“That’s not—I mean, I wasn’t…” I closed my eyes and touched my forehead to his, willing myself to get it together. “I know we’re not having sex yet. But…”
“But?” he encouraged, giving me another squeeze.
I squirmed in his lap and was reminded of the erection he could not hide.
“I know you’ve been with other women.”
“Theodora, what’s your point?”
I heard his impatience. It was minor, but it was there. Pulling away to look him in the eye, I recognized not exactly what he was thinking, but a reflection of what I had experienc
ed myself. He had a past, just as much as I did. Neither of us could change it, and I knew it. We both did. Only, that wasn’t what I was trying to say.
Tightening my hold around him, I said, “I want to be safe, that’s all.”
He studied me for a long moment and then finally replied, “I’ll make an appointment this afternoon.”
“Okay,” I whispered, ignoring the heat of my blush. “Me, too.”
“I’m not worried about either of us. Least of all you. Now that we’ve cleared that up, can I go back to kissing you now?” he asked teasingly.
“Please.”
I barely got the word out before his tongue was in my mouth.
He did a lot more than kiss me—but I wasn’t in the frame of mind to complain.
Chapter Forty-Eight
It was late on a Thursday afternoon when his phone rang with the call he was anticipating. He wasn’t alone, Brittany and Logan accompanying him as they made their way to a meeting; but as their meeting had not yet begun, he didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Excuse me,” said Judah, interrupting something Brittany was saying. He glanced at his watch and came to a stop. Holding up his vibrating device, he announced, “I have to take this call. Go ahead. I’ll be just a moment.”
Brittany and Logan exchanged a glance, but neither of them lingered as he swiped his thumb across his screen. He was greeted by a nurse, who delivered the news he was all but certain he would hear. His test results had come back clean, which brought about more anticipation than he’d experienced in ages. The woman he wanted wished to be reassured—and with his results, he planned to do more than placate her. He had every intention of consuming her completely.
There is a dose of wild in my demure woman—and I can hardly wait to discover it, he thought as he made his way into the conference room.
“Is everything okay?” asked Logan.
A slight frown tugged at Judah’s brow as he pulled out his chair and took a seat. He was unclear as to why she felt the need to ask such a thing. In spite of his confusion, he replied, “Fine.”