Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
I want to take my time.
Savor every single second of the anticipation.
Let the years melt away in our gazes then drive him wild with my lips, and my—
Thump!
With a quickness I didn’t see coming, Jude’s grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall. His hands spear into my hair, and he seals those lush lips to mine.
Yessss.
I just . . .
Wow . . .
His lips are feisty, and he kisses like he talks, playful and clever, darting his tongue into my mouth then tugging on my bottom lip—turning the tables on me with a kiss that makes my body feel like warm honey.
Everything in me just . . . glows.
I bathe in endorphins, splash around in the best feel-good drug anywhere.
Jude.
His fearless kisses are dizzying. His touch turns me inside out, from his hands in my hair to his tongue, teasing and toying and making me groan with desire. Making me forget how I planned to seduce him.
My heart hammers painfully from the utter rightness of our kiss. This is happening. The guy who got away is kissing me madly. He doesn’t even stop kissing to toe off his shoes. I kick mine off as I bite his bottom lip. He grabs my shirt and walks backward, keeping me in his grip as he regards me wickedly.
Holy fucking yes.
Jude is worth every sighting, every coffee shop photo, every annoying comment on Twitter.
When he pulls me onto the bed, it still feels like a dream, an escape into a world where nothing can go wrong. He falls back on the mattress with a grin, an invitation for me to climb on top of him. Bracing myself on my palms, I stare down at the face that can charm millions.
But the look in his eyes is for one person only. Me.
And I have to keep my cool. Be the hero of my own story. “Want to know why I ordered champagne?”
He bites the corner of his lips, and I shudder. Already, he’s got me by the balls. “Because you wanted to know how it tastes on my lips,” he whispers.
I blink. Swallow. Realize I didn’t even get to deliver the line because he saw right through me. He knew what was coming.
“Am I right, TJ?” he asks, running his tongue along his teeth.
“You’re right.” I nip his mouth. “And you’re doing that thing where you bite your lip. You love to toy with me. You always did.”
“I do—because getting you worked up is such a turn-on.”
“Everything about you is a turn-on,” I blurt. There’s nothing seductive in my voice now. Nothing sexy as I give up the plain truth.
He grabs my face and consumes my lips. Maybe I don’t need to play tonight like it’s a scene. The truth seems to spur him on.
We kiss harder, deeper, and with so much passion.
Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at how natural this feels with him. But I am. Every touch is so real. Every touch reminds me of what I’ve been missing over the years—this connection. I’ve only ever had it with him.
As we trade kisses, my head feels lighter, my mind freer. The kiss downshifts as we take our time, our bodies rubbing together, my cock grinding against his through all these damn clothes.
Too many layers.
As we wrench apart, I gaze at my once and again English lover, then I groan as I drop my mouth to his collarbone. We come back together like we did in our flat in London. Scraping my beard over his skin, I whisper, “You feel so good. Want to get you naked, baby. Want to feel you against me.”
Jude’s hand snakes between us as he works open the button on my jeans. “Let me give you what you came for.”
You. I came for you.
But that’s not entirely true.
I’m here to feel good again for me. He’s the one person who can give me that. Jude and I, we have no hurt. We have no pain between us. We never split up; we never broke each other’s hearts. Distance ripped us apart, but never words, never deeds.
He can only be good to me. And I can be great to him.
Grabbing his waistband, I yank him up with me. Then I get busy getting busy, unbuttoning my shirt, jerking his off.
“Look at you,” I groan when I stare at his chest. His pecs are smooth, his muscles trim and lean. He’s toned for the camera, but not action-hero level, and that suits me just fine.
“Like what you see?” Jude sounds vulnerable, as if he truly needs my heartfelt yes. His tone reaches deep into my heart.
“I do. You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever known. Seen. Met.” He seems to bask in the compliment, to light up.
“Same. Same with you,” he murmurs, and I doubt that’s true, but I don’t care because he’s here, turning his spotlight on me.