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 don’t even have a chance to fashion a reply since Jude’s got this handled entirely. “Send me the details. You never know if it’ll work out,” he says and it’s a perfect answer, since it’s perfectly noncommittal.
William drops a kiss to my cheek and turns around. As his boots clomp on the floorboards, Jude surveys the backstage area, grabs my hand, and hauls me into his dressing room. “Love him, but I thought he’d never leave,” he whispers, sounding relieved as he snicks the door shut.
“He wasn’t even here that long,” I say, completely forgetting whatever shards of jealousy stabbed me a minute ago. I have a selective memory with Jude. My brain clears everything away but the good stuff.
Like Jude’s performance, like this chance I have to tell him what it means to me. “You were amazing. I laughed the whole time. I was completely transported. You’re so real,” I say, and it’s everything I wanted to say when I watched The Artificial Girlfriend, Our Secret Courtship, and Afternoon Delight. “You make me believe.”
“Really?”
While his question is a question, it’s not full of doubt. It’s imbued with hope.
I don’t even try to lighten my answer with something cheeky like And I’m not just saying it to get in your pants. I keep it simple. “It’s true.”
“Thank you,” he says, and I can feel, too, how much he wanted me to like his performance. “I have to tell you a secret now.”
I tense, since secrets can destroy a good thing. “A good secret or a bad secret?”
“It’s good.” Jude runs a hand down my arm. “When I was on stage, I heard you laughing.”
“You did?”
“You have a very distinct laugh.”
“Huh. I didn’t realize that.”
He squeezes my biceps. “That’s a good thing. I liked it. It gave tonight’s performance a little something extra.”
Before I get too caught up, I need to give him his gift. This isn’t the moment to talk about anything but him. I hand him the canvas bag, hoping he likes what I got him and why. “I didn’t get you flowers.”
He laughs softly, glancing at a farmer’s market worth of roses, sunflowers, and daisies in his dressing room. “Do you think I don’t like flowers?”
“I actually don’t know if you like flowers, but flowers felt like something anyone could get the star of the show.”
“And you’re not just anyone,” he says, his tone warm and sensual.
I want to be his only one, but no way will I say anything resembling that. “So I got you a canvas bag. I figured you’d need it for the chocolates and flowers everyone else gets you,” I say drily since I definitely need jokes right now.
He laughs, then peers into the bag, arching a brow. He takes a blueberry from the carton and pops it into his mouth. “You are the only person who’s ever given me blueberries.”
“I’m a practical guy,” I say, but that’s not why I stopped by Trader Joe’s before the show. I wanted him to know I listen to him. I listen to everything he says.
Jude takes one more, then sets the bag down on the edge of the chair by the mirror. “But how does it taste on your lips, I wonder?” He returns to me, offers me the berry. When I part my lips, he brushes the tiny fruit seductively along my bottom lip.
I’m not into food play, but hell, I will be if it warrants that dark glimmer in his eyes. My tongue darts out, and I bite down on the berry, the juice hitting my tongue. I finish it quickly. “Find out,” I whisper in invitation.
He dips his face, kisses me with the barest trace of his lips, then backs off. “Tastes like the start of my dirty fantasies.”
I shudder, anticipation rushing through me from his heated stare . . . at my duck shirt. I’d been wondering when he’d finally notice what I wore. “You like this too?”
“Like it? I fucking love it.” He darts out a hand, fingers the top button, plays with my chest hair right above it. He travels down the buttons, undoing the first one, then presses a hot, possessive kiss to my pecs.
“I thought you might,” I whisper.
“As soon as I saw you at the end of the play, all I could think about was my dressing room fantasy. This.” Jude drops down to his knees, unzips my jeans, and frees my cock from the confines of my boxer briefs. “Do you have any idea how much I love sucking your cock?”
This man. I’m trembling already as I thread my fingers through his hair. “Show me.”
He bends his face to my dick, presses a hot tease of a kiss to the crown. “Ever since I invited you to LA, I’ve been getting off to thoughts of this every night.”