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Page 35
Page 35
“About as sexy as you look lying on my table at Raw Ink?”
He pulled back and gulped openly. “Pure torture.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Tell me about it.”
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he mumbled to himself as if he’d suddenly questioned his own sanity.
Screw this. I wasn’t going to lie here in this fucked-up position anticipating the moment he’d change his mind.
“You’re the one who invited me here, not the other way around.”
I propped my elbows on the cushion in an effort to stand up.
“No, wait.” He took a deep breath and looked into my eyes. “I . . . I haven’t really been around anybody in a while. I mean, nobody I’d been so hugely attracted to.”
“Seriously?”
“Definitely,” he muttered.
It was similar to what Vaughn had said, but what exactly did that mean?
“And speaking of body parts, I honestly questioned whether a few of mine would get a workout again,” he said. “But then you’d come around with your dogs, and my stomach would get tied up in knots and my . . .” He looked down at his lap. “Well . . . you know.”
My chest was throbbing as my gaze scaled down to his erection. His breathing was erratic and I was beginning to feel guilty for bringing all of this on.
At least I wasn’t in this alone. But I wasn’t the one fighting it so hard. I thought about Vaughn’s words again and about Jude needing some company.
“It’s cool, Jude,” I said. “Hey, man, no pressure. We don’t have to . . .”
“I’m not saying I don’t want to, just saying I don’t know if . . .”
“I get it, okay,” I said, letting him off the hook. “Let’s just move to the tennis ball magic.”
He swallowed roughly and then nodded, edging closer to the corner of the couch.
His trembling fingers stretched to my waist and I remembered how it felt to be skin to skin with him at the quarry.
“Here?” he asked, putting pressure on my lower back. I groaned.
“Is it okay if I lift your shirt?” His voice was low and smooth and such a stark difference to the assertiveness he showed in the water the other day.
His fingers pulled the bottom of my shirt up and his hands felt so warm on my back. He placed the tennis balls firmly on my skin and once he applied pressure, my breath stole away from my body.
“Give it a couple of minutes, mate,” he said low in my ear. “I think it’ll work.”
I could scarcely breathe because the pressure was so intense. I fisted my hands and dug my head into the cushion.
“I used to think I wanted to go into sports medicine,” he said and I could tell he was trying to get my mind off the aching. “I’ve taken some online courses here and there. Maybe I will again someday.”
“I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing, Doc,” I said, groaning. “You’re killing me.”
I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Like I said, trust me.”
After another minute more the throbbing began to lessen somewhat. I lifted my head from the cushion and turned my gaze to him.
“So, did you grow up around here?” he asked.
“Yeah, my grandmother still lives over on Barlow Avenue,” I said. “What about you? I know you grew up on a farm and you said you haven’t lived there since you were a teen. Are your parents still in the States? Your dad? Your mom?”
Silence.
“Dude, seriously?” I said, while panting through the agony. “You asked me, so I should be able to—”
“I haven’t seen my dad since I was a tot and my mum’s dead,” he said in a rush.
“Fuck, man, I’m sorry,” I said, trying to meet his gaze, but he was staring at the floor. “My mom’s dead, too. My grandmother raised me.”
His gaze slowly lifted to mine, sorrow evident in his eyes. “I’m sorry, mate. Bet you miss her.”
“I was ten when she died from breast cancer. I remember some really vivid moments but then my grandmother became my whole world. And it kinda bums me out that she’s growing older now, too.”
What in the hell was I even saying? Again with the motor mouth. To a guy who was hard-pressed to share anything with me. I was surprised I didn’t reveal my biggest fear of all—that pretty much everybody in my life leaves me. So would Jude. He’d already warned me, for Christ’s sake. And here I was falling down the rabbit hole.
Jude’s gaze had softened and he looked pretty miserable.
“You miss your mom?” I asked.
“Fucking hell,” he said in a tortured voice. “Losing her completely gutted me. I miss her every day.”
I couldn’t reach for him from this position and Christ, did I have the intense need to soothe him right then. Instead, I showed him with my eyes how damn sorry I was. “How did she pass away?”
All at once his face turned dark. Scary dark. There was rage hidden beneath the depths of his eyes and I didn’t need to ask any further. I already knew.
It was the same person who’d put those scars on his back.
Chapter Nineteen
“Shit,” I mumbled. “Is he in prison?”
Again there was silence; the only sound was Jude attempting to rein in his harsh breaths through his nose.
“No, huh?” I whispered and he stared past me to the wall, neither confirming nor denying. “Damn.”