Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (34 page)

Tonight will be the ultimate test of self-control. I’ve been playing her game long enough to be well acquainted with the rules. She has no issue telling me
no
, which is how I ended up in this
dating
situation in the first place. Nevertheless, while I grow hungrier and hungrier with every passing day, she grows weaker and weaker. I can feel it in her touch, taste it in her kiss, see it in her eyes. Her pussy will be mine. Soon. But I can’t force my way in. She’d never have me then—and I refuse to claim defeat.

I refuse.

“I can set the table, if you want,” she offers, pulling me from my thoughts.

Her words hit me like a reality check. It’s not the first time she’s been in my kitchen. Not the
first
. Not the
last
. She’s becoming familiar with my house—a place no
woman
has ever felt at home. I find it odd, but it also has a sense of
normalcy
to it. She doesn’t even wait for me to respond before she washes her hands at the sink and then gathers the necessary place settings for dinner.

“I was thinking—it’ll be too dark by the time we’re done eating, but you would look fantastic at dusk. Maybe if I impress you with my skills today, you’ll let me capture you again, later.”

She smiles back at me just as I enter the kitchen, and I wonder how it is that I’m so captivated by that twenty-two-year-old woman.

“Perhaps,” I answer, pulling the salmon and cubed roasted potatoes from the oven. “What got you into photography, anyway?”

“My sophomore year of college, I took a photography class as an elective. I love art. Obviously. But I’m not an artist. At least, that’s what I used to think before I started taking pictures. I’m not saying that I think my work is good enough to hang on anyone’s wall as
art
—but it’s art to me.”

“And people are your usual subjects?” I ask, plating our food.

“Yeah. I mean, if I’m out on a hike by myself, I’ll take some nature pics; but I like capturing a moment in someone’s life that they’ll never get back. That, in and of itself, is art. At least, I think so.” She shrugs as she takes her seat, and I study her a moment, intrigued by her answer. When she catches me staring, she blushes before she asks, “What?”

I shake my head slowly and then head back toward the kitchen, setting aside the empty baking dish before heading to the pantry. “Wine? I have chardonnay.”

“Yes, please.” She waits patiently at the table as I retrieve the bottle and open it up, grabbing two glasses before taking the seat opposite her. “Thank you,” she murmurs as I finish pouring her glass. “For dinner, I mean. It smells wonderful.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, you know my favorite hobby. What’s yours?”

“Golf.”

“Oh. Duh. I knew that. You play with your Aunt Eddalyn, right?”

“And Benjamin, when we can.”

“I’ve never been on a golf course,” she says, spearing a potato with her fork before popping it into her mouth.

“Never?” I ask, my eyes glued to her lips as she slides her fork free.

For a second, my mind wanders, and I imagine how breathtaking she would look with my cock in her mouth—her big eyes open wide, gazing up at me.

“Judah?”

“What?” I ask, my eyes snapping up to meet hers. I ignore the erection pressing against the seam of my pants and try concentrating on the food in my mouth.

“I asked if I might be able to tag along sometime? If it’s not any trouble. I wouldn’t play, of course.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, clearing my throat. As I take another bite, I realize I’m not entirely sure what I just agreed to. What I do know is, I’m ready to be done with dinner. I can barely taste it, my mind set on the promise of tonight’s festivities. I’m ready to unleash her
wild
.

After dinner, I help Judah clean up the kitchen. I’m feeling
super
chatty, and I can’t seem to shut up. I know it’s because I’m trying to combat my nerves, only it’s not working. When we’re finished, and I head for my camera bag and reach for my most prized possession, I finally start to relax.

“So, how does this work?” he asks, as he joins me in his living room, setting down what’s left of our wine with our glasses from dinner.

“Um, I don’t want you to think about it.”

He lifts an eyebrow at me, his face clearly expressing his confusion.

“You’re hanging out with me,” I say, slipping my feet from out of my Toms as I head for the couch. I curl my legs underneath me and point at the space in front of me. “Sit. Talk to me.”

“And, what? Pretend you don’t have a camera in my face?”

“Exactly!” I reply with a grin.

He sighs but obediently sits down, extending one of his arms across the back of the couch. “And what would you like me to talk about?”

“How about…
Pride and Prejudice
.”

He flashes a sly smile my way and—
click—
I’m quick to capture the moment. I don’t bother looking at the digital image that appears on the display screen because he moves and I’m too busy looking for my next shot.

“What is it about Darcy that you like so much?” he asks, propping his right ankle over his left knee.

He’s wearing a pair of tan khakis, his wrist watch secured above his hand with a brown, leather band, and his feet are bare. In his polo shirt, his forearms are left uncovered. This is as causal as Jude gets, unless he’s sleeping, and if I sit up on my knees, and angle the camera above his crossed legs….

Click
.

“Well, I like that he doesn’t know what to do with his feelings,” I begin, sitting back on my heels. “He wants Elizabeth long before he’s willing to admit it; and while he seems like this cold, rude guy on the outside, that’s not who he is at all. Except, very few people know that. And his asshole tendencies come from past pain. He loves hard and he protects who he loves. And…” My voice trails off into nothing at the sight of the contemplative look on Jude’s face.

Click
.

“And
what?
” he asks.

I let out a small laugh as I shrug. “And I could go on and on. It’s like I told you—I think he’s lovely. Classic, fictional, gentleman hero.”

“I suppose he was all right. He’s no Tyler Durden.”

“
Oh, my gosh
,” I gush, bringing my camera to my lap. “Such good writing! I mean—I’ve seen the movie. I knew what was going on, but it still blew my mind.” He chuckles, a grin spreading across his face, and I gasp, quickly lifting my lens.

Click
.

“Poor Marla, though. Talk about playing a girl hot and cold.”

“Hmm,” he hums, looking right at me. “Speaking of being hot…”

I sit frozen, my stomach suddenly full of a million little butterflies as he reaches behind his head and starts to pull off his shirt. I watch, a small voice in the back of my head begging me to capture
this
moment for posterity—but I can’t move. I wasn’t expecting our conversation to take this turn, and my nerves from before are back in full force.

“Wh—what are you doing?” I manage.

“I don’t really want to talk about Marla—about Tyler playing her hot and cold,” he begins to say, leaning toward me. “There’s another girl I’d like to play with, instead.”

He takes my camera from my hand and reaches around me to set it on the end table behind me. To avoid the contact of his skin, I lean out of his way, easing my legs out from under me as I descend onto my back. The look he gives me when his gaze drops down on me is like a statement—I’m exactly where he wants me.

He’s so close, I can feel the heat of his skin, and he smells so good.
So. Good
. My lungs shrink, in that way they do only around him, and then he’s kissing me. As his tongue twists with mine, he maneuvers himself between my legs. Suddenly, my dress seems non-existent, and I can’t tell if the warmth at my center is his or mine—either way, I know he’s the cause of it, and my heart is beating so fast in anticipation of what comes next.

“Remember our deal, Teddy,” he mutters, dragging his lips down my neck. He places a hand at my knee, and as his fingers graze their way up my thigh, he kisses his way toward my ear. “Anywhere I want.”

“I remember,” I say, my voice both shaky and soft.

“I want to put my fingers inside of you. I want to feel you come around me, Teddy. I need to fuck you—do you hear me? I’ve played by your rules. I’ve waited too long.”

“Wait,” I insist, pressing my trembling hands against his chest. He pulls away just enough for me to be able to see into his eyes—but that’s all I need. I only need to be able to look at him, to
see
him as I ask, “You’ll stop if I tell you to, right?”

“You’re not going to tell me to stop, Teddy, I promise you that,” he replies, his fingers now tracing their way up the inside of my thigh.

“But—but you will?” I stutter.

He nods. “Now, can I touch you?”

“Yes.” The word comes out barely above a whisper, but that’s all he needs.

Before I can take my next breath, his hand is in my panties, and his fingers are trailing along the seam of my center. It isn’t until he touches me that I realize how wet I am, and a soft moan slips out of me as he caresses my clit.

“
Fucking hell, Teddy,
” he groans before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

I wrap my arms around him, sinking my fingers into his hair before griping hold of him. My whole body feels like it’s on fire. He’s barely grazed the surface, and I’m already so turned on I feel like I might combust at any moment. Then, he slips a finger inside of me, and a long whimper sounds from my throat as I arch my back, needing to be closer to him.

“Goddamn—you’re so tight!” He eases in another finger, and it’s all I can do to keep breathing. “You’re so wet—so fucking wet, just for me,” he mutters before crashing his lips against mine.

He kisses me long and hard, his fingers pumping in and out of me. As I cling to him, I’m aware of two things: he was right, and I was wrong. He was right when he told me that I wouldn’t tell him to stop. I don’t want him to stop—not ever. But I was wrong when I thought that his touch would feel amazing. It isn’t amazing. It’s more. It’s
unreal
. I can’t even think of any words to describe it. All I know is that I don’t want this feeling to ever end.

When he grazes my clit with his thumb, it’s as if he’s lit a fuse. I gasp, pulling my mouth away from his as the tingling pressure in my lower belly intensifies. “
Judah
,” I moan, my eyes drooping closed.

“Open your eyes, Teddy. Open your eyes and come—come for me.”

I do as he says. I open my eyes, and the second my gaze locks with his—his grey eyes smoldering—I feel my insides tighten and flutter around him. I cry out, too lost in pleasure to feel embarrassed, and he groans, continuing to pump in and out of me until I’ve ridden out my climax.

My grip around him loosens as my whole body goes slack and he pulls out of me. He then traces his soaked fingers around my lips. Startled, I jerk at his touch, and he smirks at me before he licks my lips clean and plunges his tongue into my mouth.

“Holy shit, you taste so fucking good,” he mutters against my lips. “I need more.” My heart skips a beat when I feel him hook his fingers over the waist of my lacey boy shorts, as if to pull them off.

“Wait,” I sigh.

“I need to taste you. Don’t make me wait, Teddy.”

As he says the words, he begins pulling down my panties. Sheer panic overwhelms me. In an instant, I no longer feel good, or safe—rather I feel afraid and powerless.

“Judah—Judah! Stop—oh, god, stop!” I shove my hands against his chest, not fully registering that he’s let me go until I’ve scrambled my way off of the couch and onto my feet. I’m upright for only a second, and then I’m on my knees—my legs like jello.

“Hey,” he speaks, placing a hand on my back.

“Don’t touch me!” I yell, my eyes welling with tears.

I feel so out of control. My body is trembling. My mind is trapped between the past and the present. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t stop from crying. And in this moment, I feel like a tease—I feel like
his
tease. I hear the lie that Justin only took what I baited him with; except right now, in this very moment, it doesn’t feel like a lie. It feels like the truth. It feels like reality.

And I can’t catch my breath.

And I can’t stop from crying.

“Teddy…” I hear his voice—but I don’t hear it. “Teddy?”

Before I know what’s happening, I’m airborne, cradled against a bared wall of muscle. I start to push him away, but he only holds me tighter as he carries me down the stairs. My panic begins to resurface, but the strong arms that hold me pull me tighter still.

“Theodora,
look at me
,” he demands, stopping on the middle of the staircase. “
Look
at me.”

I do as he asks, his seemingly nonnegotiable tone easing me back into the present.

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I would
never
hurt you. Are we clear?”

The look in his eyes is filled with so much conviction, it causes something inside of me to break. I burst into a sob, feeling humiliated, angry, and sad. Then he presses his lips against my forehead as he continues his descent, and I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his neck.