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Page 36
Page 36
Some things began lining up in my brain. Was Jude indebted to the Disciples in some way? Did it have to do with his stepfather? I stayed quiet thinking it through, because no way in hell was he was going to tell me anything more.
And then I felt something give way in my back. It was like a knot of a rope that abruptly loosened. I arched my neck and breathed out in relief.
“You felt that?” Jude asked.
“God, yes,” I said, feeling overwhelming respite from the pain. “I can’t believe that worked.”
He rolled the tennis balls along my lower back a couple more times and then removed them from my skin.
“Turn over, Cory.” His voice sounded low and gravelly and when I looked into his face, I saw so many conflicting emotions there. I couldn’t pinpoint any one of them, except maybe affection and lust.
I propped my elbows on the cushion and then flipped myself over. “Is there a part two in this magic remedy?”
His hip was now touching mine and my shirt was partially lifted over my abs. His gaze swept over my skin and then to the front of my pants, which tented painfully. Now that my hands were no longer at an awkward angle, I couldn’t help touching him. I slid my fingers to his knee. “Thanks for taking care of me again.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that how you see me? As a caretaker?”
“Docs are caretakers,” I said smugly. “Figured that was your thing.”
“Only with you,” he leaned down and whispered.
“Nice to hear.” Heat climbed it way up my neck to my cheeks. “Bet your mom would’ve said you were. It’s in your nature.”
His eyes became glassy and his fingers reached out to grasp at mine so that now, he was holding my hand. It felt so fucking perfect.
“Guess so,” he said, looking away as if embarrassed. “The next thing that I’m going to have you do is to slip these tennis balls beneath your back. It creates a pressure point.”
“So I’m supposed to lay on them,” I said, my thumb absently gliding over his knuckle as if holding on to him was the most natural thing in the world.
“You could also do this up against a wall, I suppose,” he said, looking over my shoulder. “But I kind of like having you defenseless like this.”
“Yeah?” I said. “Why is that?”
He placed the tennis balls beneath my back and I adjusted my position over them. I could feel my muscles stretching but I was more interested in keeping Jude talking.
“Because you have a hard time not moving around. Same thing with zipping your lip,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
“Now who’s being a cheeky bastard?” I said and he laughed. “So you like holding me hostage?”
“I do.” His gaze ensnared mine and it was like we couldn’t look away from each other without some effort. “You’ve been a good little prisoner.”
“I think I’ve done really well putting up with all your silence.” I smirked and then grew serious. “I’ve been able to live in all that quiet a little better lately.”
His eyes turned to a dazzling liquid jade and I could’ve swum in them eternally.
“How do your muscles feel?” he asked, adjusting his fingers.
I hummed. “Relieved.”
He reached under and pulled the line of tennis balls from beneath my back. “Enough stretching for one night.”
I could’ve gotten up at that point, but I didn’t want to for anything. It felt so good lying there with my pain temporarily abated and as reprieve ballooned in my chest, I shut my eyes, nearly growing drowsy.
I felt Jude’s arm inch forward and something urged me to stay still no matter how much I wanted to reach for him. I kept my eyes closed as his warm breath fanned across my chin.
My cap was tugged from my head and then his fingers burrowed in my hair. It felt so amazing, I could’ve groaned out loud. But I remained motionless because I didn’t want to ruin the moment.
I blinked open my eyes and his face was so close that I could practically taste his minty breath on my lips. I didn’t dare inhale as he studied the line of my lips, the curve of my neck. The tips of his fingers hovered over my eyebrow, and his knuckles grazed my cheek.
His lips slipped dangerously close to mine. I couldn’t risk frightening him away, even as my heart was clawing its way out of my chest. I begged and pleaded and prayed that he’d slant his mouth across mine.
Instead he ghosted his lips directly above, mere centimeters away, as if we were mirror images. And as he stared into my eyes while hovering over me, I was gone. Dead. Dying of hunger. Thirst. To finally sip from his lips, taste from his tongue.
His lips changed course by glided to my cheek and then dragging to my ear. His breath was hot and I moaned, unable to contain my longing any further. I swallowed in large gulps as my hands fisted and trembled.
His fingers travelled to my pants, palming my erection, and I let out a harsh breath. In one swift move he unbuttoned my jeans and tugged down the zipper, allowing my engorged cock freedom from the tight confines of my pants.
“Jude,” I said in a labored voice.
“I never got to finish at the quarry.”
He tugged my jeans down and gripped my erection through my underwear. “Oh fuck.”
His knees sank to the floor and he positioned his shoulders between my legs. What the hell was he doing?
And then his hot mouth enveloped my dick straight through the material of my briefs and I nearly burst through my skin. His lips were soft and full and holy shit, I was already on the brink.