Midnight Matings 13 Splash and Elegance (6 page)

Unfortunately, Whitley knew his family was capable of dishing out a lot more than they’d shown. Hell, they’d practically been on their best behavior. He’d be surprised if Jude made it through the month.
“Be careful around Ashley. He’s not someone who’s used to hearing no. He won’t give up until he gets what he wants.” Soft, warm lips ghosted up the side of his neck, ending at his ear.

“I don’t want your brother,” Jude whispered, sending a shiver up Whitley’s spine. His tongue snaked out and glided along the shell of Whitley’s ear. “Has it been twenty-four hours yet?” Whitley moaned as he leaned back against Jude’s chest. “We’ve got a few hours.”

“Mmm, are you sure? We can’t be too careful. Wouldn’t want to risk something…delaying us, would we?”

“No,” Whitley answered distractedly while he tried to control the trembling in his legs. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what the question was. He was pretty sure it involved them both naked, however, which was as much as he needed to know.

Jude’s lips stretched into a grin against the side of his neck. “Then lead the way, Whit.”

Chapter Five

Jude wasn’t particularly proud of the way he’d handled the situation with Whitley’s family. He knew all their problems couldn’t be solved with sex, but it had seemed like the perfect distraction at the time. Jude just couldn’t help his body’s reaction to the gorgeous man.

“We need to shower and get ready for dinner. My mom’s going to be pissed enough as it is.” Whitley made no move to get out of bed, though. He sprawled on his back with his hand over his heart, staring up at the ceiling with flushed cheeks and a contented smile.

With his normally uptight mate looking so deliciously debauched, Jude figured he had the right to feel a little cocky. He’d done that.

He’d brought that smile to Whitley’s face. “I think we should shower together. It would save time, and of course, we should conserve water.”

Whitley closed his eyes and chuckled. “You are incorrigible.”

“Can I help it that I have a sexy mate who I can’t seem to keep my hands off of?” Jude rolled to his side and began drawing circles in the cooling cum on Whitley’s soft belly with his fingertips.

Whitley responded by groaning softly and arching up into his touch. His half-hard cock twitched with renewed interest, swelling rapidly and flexing so that it bumped against Jude’s wrist. As much as Jude wanted to continue, they were already going to be late as it was.

“C’mon, Whit. Let’s get that shower.”

“Don’t stop,” Whitley begged, grabbing Jude’s hand and pushing it toward his groin in a bold move that was so unlike him, Jude didn’t resist at first.
“Hey.” Jude loomed over his lover, waiting for him to open his eyes and focus on him. “I’d be more than happy to stay right here in bed for the rest of the night. We’re going to have to face your parents sooner or later, though. Why don’t we just get it over with, okay?” Whitley sighed through his nose, biting his lip as he nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.” He didn’t sound very happy about it, though. “You want the shower first?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to argue, but he knew they’d never make it to dinner if they bathed together. A wet, naked Whitley was a temptation he couldn’t resist. “Actually, I need to make a couple of phone calls, so you can go first.”

Bless his heart, but he didn’t even ask who Jude needed to call. He just shrugged adorably, climbed out of bed, and padded into the bathroom, wiggling his naked ass the entire way. The sway of his hips looked so inviting Jude actually contemplated chasing after him, but in the end, he let Whitley go and dug through his jeans for his cell phone.

Settling on the side of the bed, he waited until he heard the shower running before dialing and pressing the phone to his ear. When it started ringing, he rose from the mattress and padded out of the room, searching out a bit more privacy.

“Young man, where are you?”

Jude sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he paced the kitchen. “Hello, Cara, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Don’t you sass me, Jude Christopher,” she shot back in her no-nonsense tone. “I asked you a question.”

“Sorry, Cara. I’m stressed and cranky. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” The woman had raised him like her own since he was nine.

She was the only one who’d always been there for him and never let him down. “I miss you.”

“You know I miss you, too, honey. Now stop dodging my question and tell me where you’re at. Are the rumors true about the gathering? Did the elders really force everyone to mate?”
“They’re true,” Jude answered with a heavy sigh. “I’m in Virginia with my mate.”

“Oh, Jude, that’s wonderful. Congratulations, my boy. You’ll have to tell me all about her r—”

“Him,” Jude corrected.

Cara didn’t even miss a beat. “Well, then you’ll tell me all about
him
right after you tell me what in God’s name you’re doing clear out there in Virginia. Why didn’t you bring this mate of yours here?”

“Did Father make it home?” Jude hedged.

“Jude.” Cara’s tone turned deadly serious. “That’s why I’m calling. It’s not safe for Carter here. That boy needs you.” His heart galloped in his chest, knocking hard against his sternum.

“Is he hurt? Cara, did Dad hurt Carter?”

“You need to come home, Jude. Bring your mate if you have to, but get here.” Heavy silence hung for a brief moment before she spoke again. “Someone’s coming. I have to go.” A loud click sounded in his ear, followed by nothing but silence.

“Fuck!” Jude roared, kicking at one of the kitchen chairs and sending it careening across the white tiles. A soft gasp drew his attention, and he spun around, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as his upper lip curled over his teeth.

Whitley stood just inside the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips, his hair still dripping from the shower.

His eyes were wide and startled, and his lips pressed together so tightly they were turning white as he stared at the destruction that had once been his kitchen chair. The thing lay in a broken heap against the back door, a testament to how badly Jude had lost it.

“Whit,” Jude said quietly, taking a step forward. He reached out for his mate, but Whitley flinched back from him, shaking his head rapidly. Knowing that the man wasn’t just scared, but afraid of
him
made Jude feel about three inches tall.

It had been a long time since he’d let his temper get the better of him like that, and he hated that Whitley had to see that side of him.
“Whitley,” he said almost in a whisper. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would
never
hurt you.”

Whitley snorted derisively. “Violent men don’t just pick and choose who they’re violent toward.” Then his brain seemed to catch up with what his mouth was saying, and the blood drained from his face so quickly, Jude thought he’d pass out right there in the kitchen.

One hand came up to cover his mouth as his eyes went so wide, they looked in danger of popping out of his skull. Jude didn’t fault him for what he’d said, though. People got angry. It happened every day. They didn’t go around smashing furniture like some damn barbarian, though.

It did, however, give him another little peek into the enigma that was Whitley Turner. “I don’t know who hurt you, but I’m not them, Whit. I got mad, lost my cool, and kicked the chair. That doesn’t mean I’m going to start smacking you around.” Whitley stared at him for a long time before his eyes tightened at the corners, and he nodded slowly. “Why were you so angry?” He’d hoped to have more time to ease Whitley into it, but after his conversation with Cara, he couldn’t keep it a secret any longer.

“Someone I love is being hurt, and I’m not there to stop it.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes.”

Whitley continued to study him a bit longer before he finally bobbed his head slowly. “Then let’s go get him.”

“Just like that?” The guy had looked about ready to piss himself after Jude’s outburst, but now he was ready to charge into a volatile situation with him without knowing all the facts?

“You need help. I can help.” Whitley held his hands out to his sides and shrugged. “Do you want to get your brother or not?”

“My dad isn’t going to just let us take him. If it was that easy, I’d have had him out of there months ago.” Jude settled his hands on his hips and frowned. “It could be dangerous.”
“You think I’m weak.” Whitley bobbed his head as though this wasn’t anything new and he completely expected it. “You’re probably right. I let everyone push me around, walk all over me, and treat me like shit. Hell, you saw the way my own family feels about me.” He crossed his arms over his lean chest and sighed. “I want to help you, though. I don’t need to be able to throw a punch to do that.”

“You don’t even know me, Whit. Why would you put your neck on the line for me?” Jude had already been planning to ask him to do just that, but it confused him that Whitley would offer without being persuaded.

“Partly because you’re my mate and if you get yourself killed, I’m going down with you.” He paused and rubbed his palm over his short, wet hair. “Mostly, though, it’s because you’re the first person who has ever needed me.”

He wasn’t whining, nor did he seem sad about the fact. It was stated as simple truth—one that had been drilled into him from an early age, Jude assumed. While he appreciated that Whitley didn’t feel sorry for himself, he didn’t like the way the guy viewed himself, either. From the little he knew about him, Whitley was smart, kind, and selfless. They weren’t qualities that would move him up the proverbial food chain, but they didn’t make him weak, either.

Even though he needed Whitley’s help, Jude honestly liked the guy. With that being said, he decided if he was dragging his mate into the shark’s tank, he wanted Whitley to at least know some basic self-defense. It wouldn’t win any wars, but it might keep the man from ending up dead or worse. And yes, there were worse things than death.

“How quick can you get us to Santa Rosa?”

“Dad should return in a couple of hours. Once they check the plane over and refuel, we can leave.”

“You have your own plane?” Jude shook his head quickly. “Never mind. Thank you, Whit.”
Whitley smiled crookedly, and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Hey, it gets me out of dinner with my mother.”

* * * *

“Okay, stomp on my foot and throw your head, elbow, and hips back.”

“Jude, I’m going to hurt you.” Whitley didn’t know about this.

While part of him was dying to learn how to keep himself from becoming yet another person’s punching bag, he didn’t know if he could purposely hurt his mate.

“That’s the point, Whit.”

One of Jude’s arms was wrapped around his throat, while the other dangled limply at his side. Jude explained that if someone was holding him in this particular position, they were mostly likely using their other hand to point a gun at someone while they used Whitley as either leverage or a human shield. Neither sounded very appealing to him.

“I can’t do this.”

“Just do it.”

“I can’t.”

“Stop saying that and fucking do it.” Jude growled in his ear, and Whitley shivered, though not from fear.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Jude. Shifting his feet in the grass, Whitley glanced around his backyard and sighed. “I’m sorry.

This isn’t going to work.”

Jude’s arm tightened around his throat, cutting off his airflow.

“Do it,” he snarled. “Or are you too weak to stop me?” Whitley struggled and pulled at Jude’s arms, but he might as well have been trying to bend a steel bar for all the good it did.

“What are you going to do, Whit?” Jude taunted as his arm tightened around Whitley’s neck, sending him into a panic. “You can stop me anytime you want. Just do what I showed you.”
His lungs burned, and the need to breathe was overwhelming. The more he struggled against his mate’s hold, the tighter Jude held him, until Whitley just knew he was going to pass out from oxygen deprivation.

“Do it!”

Whitley bent his knee, lifting his foot off the ground, and then slammed it down on top of Jude’s as hard as he could. He heard a muffled grunt, and the arm around his neck loosened. Gaining confidence from that, he jerked his head back, wincing when it connected solidly with Jude’s chin. His elbow and hips moved simultaneously, and Jude groaned, releasing his hold, and Whitley tumbled to the ground, gasping for air.

A huge smile spread over his lips a moment later, and he rolled over in the grass to look up at Jude. “I did it.” Jude rubbed his jaw and midsection, but he was also smiling, and looked mostly unscathed from the ordeal. “Told you so.”

“How do I keep from getting hit?” Whitley asked, climbing to his feet and brushing the dirt off his ass.

“Stand in front of me.”

Whitley bounced into place, eager to learn more from his mate.

“Now, what would you do if I was going to hit you?” Jude cocked his arm back, then threw it forward, his huge fist aiming right for Whitley’s nose.

Whitley reacted on instinct by dropping to the ground, curling into a ball, and wrapping his arms around his head.

“Well, that would work for about two seconds,” Jude said with a sigh. “Let’s try again.”

Uncurling himself, Whitley pushed to his feet and tilted his head to the side. “It’s worked before,” he said defensively. That wasn’t strictly true. Other than Jude’s father, it had never dissuaded his attackers in the least. It did save him a lot of facial bruising, though.

“Right.” Jude’s sarcasm wasn’t very flattering. “Try this instead.”
They worked together for another half hour, Whitley soaking up everything he could learn. Jude was an excellent teacher, and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes as well. He never lost his patience, but he knew when and how to push Whitley when he needed it.

“Good, good,” Jude praised. “Do it again.” His fist cut through the air again, and Whitley responded by ducking to the side and throwing his arm up to shield the blow. “Excellent!” Beaming with pride, Whitley stretched up on his toes and pressed his lips to Jude’s in a loud, smacking kiss. They never really touched unless they were having sex, so he hoped it was allowed. He figured it was when he pulled back to find Jude smiling at him.