Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (35 page)

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just calm down.”

W
hen Benjamin was little, every time the door slammed, he would have a panic attack. Sometimes I was in the room with him when it happened, and I remember the way he would shut down. I couldn’t touch him or he would scream. I couldn’t talk to him because he wouldn’t hear me. For the first few months, I couldn’t really understand it. Then my mother sat down and explained it to me. She even taught me how to help her calm him down, in case she wasn’t around when it happened.

I don’t panic when Teddy yells at me, her body telling me everything I need to know. Yet, even as I endeavor to remain level-headed, my heart races as I try and figure out how to comfort her. When I can’t get through to her, I pick her up, seeking to do the only thing I can think of—what my mother taught me to do with Benjamin all those years ago.

It isn’t until she clings to me, burying her face in my neck as she cries, that I begin to relax. I carry her down the stairs, through my bedroom, and into the bathroom. When I set her down on the counter, she pulls away from me and covers her face with her hands. I watch her for a moment, replaying the last few minutes.

She had been fine until, out of nowhere, she
wasn’t
. Then she was wild and frantic, desperate to get away from me. I remember that look of panic; I remember seeing the same fear in her eyes—last week, when I found her in my kitchen in the middle of the night. I wondered about the nature of her nightmares, and now I think I know.

She’s been abused. After what just happened, I’d have to be an idiot not to see the signs that all point toward sexual assault. As realization clicks, the bitter taste of
fury
fills my mouth. Looking at my shy girl, trembling before me, all I want is to find the motherfucker who made her like this and beat the living shit out of him.

I shake my head, forcing myself to snap out of my rage. Teddy is a mess as a result of my touch. That shit won’t fly, and I need to fix it
right
now. I walk away from her just long enough to grab a face cloth, and then I turn on the faucet, soaking it in hot water. I wring it out before gently lifting her hair from her neck, and then I run the cloth against her skin. I do this until she drops her hands and peers up at me from beneath her wet lashes. I let go of her hair and grip the back of her neck, holding her still as I run the warm cloth over her forehead and around the sides of her face. She draws in a shuddered breath as I wipe her tear streaked cheeks, and I can tell she’s finally starting to calm down.

I set aside the cloth, my left hand still wrapped around her neck as I ask, “Who was he?”

She swallows once, her eyes never leaving mine as she finds her words. “His name is Justin. He was my boyfriend. We were both nineteen.”

“What happened?” I ask, massaging her neck in an attempt to keep her comfortable while I dig for the details of her trauma.

“Um…” She stops and sighs, but I don’t tear my eyes away from hers. I want answers, and I want them now. She must read my resolute intentions because she takes a deep breath and then continues. “We’d been together for nine months. We met at CSU’s freshman orientation. At the time, I was a virgin. I loved him—or at least I
thought
I did—but I wasn’t ready to have sex with him. He was ready, and he was never shy about letting me know, but I just—I don’t know—I guess I just wanted to be sure that it was right before we went there. Nineteen still felt young to me.

“We would fool around, which I thought would be enough for a while, but I was wrong. Then, one night…he wouldn’t stop.” Her voice drops to a strained whisper as a single tear slides down her cheek. “He raped me and then he just…left me. He never spoke to me again. He just
disappeared
from my life—except for when he haunted me in my sleep.”

Son of a bitch.

My fury begins to rise again. I’m so angry, I can’t even look at her. The sound of her sniffle alerts me to the fact that she’s crying again, which only infuriates me more.

“I told him
no.
I told him to
stop
. I want so badly to believe that it wasn’t my fault. Sometimes I do. But then other times—” She chokes on a sob and I have to ball my free hand into a fist at my side as a way to channel all of my frustration. Hearing the pain in her voice brings back memories best left in the past. “I’m a tease.”

“No,” I state, tightening my grip around her neck as I look her square in the eye. “It wasn’t your fault. That’s bullshit. And you’re not a fucking tease. Say it.”

“I’m not a tease,” she whispers.

I nod once, my gaze drops down, and I catch a glimpse of her tatted thighs. Suddenly, a new understanding washing over me. Her dreamcatcher, meant to ward off her nightmares. Her garter, meant to remind her that she’s beautiful and not damaged.

At the time, I was a virgin.

My eyes shoot back up to meet hers, and I tug my eyebrows together in a frown as I study her. “You’ve never had consensual sex before?” She shakes her head and a sigh rushes out of me. I slide my right arm around her waist, pulling her closer before I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sniffs, reaching up to dry her cheeks as she says, “It’s not exactly the easiest thing to explain.”

I nod, acknowledging that she has a point.

Then it hits me anew.

She’s never had sex before
.

Admiring the woman in my arms, I know that my body will know hers. I know that I will unleash her
wild.
When I have her—when she begs for me to take her—and she will
beg
—I’ll be going where no man has been allowed to go before. But we’ll never get there if she’s
afraid
of me.

“Teddy,” I begin to say, tightening my grip around her waist. “We can’t keep doing this if you don’t trust me.”

“I know,” she whispers.

“I would never take advantage of you. I’m a man, not some pussy-assed bastard who gets off stealing what isn’t offered to him. I’m a man, a man capable of bringing you pleasure the likes of which your body has never seen. Do you believe that?”

She nods, and I lean down to trace my nose along hers.

“You’re a gorgeous woman, Teddy. Your body deserves to be worshiped,” I say softly, my lips grazing hers. “I’ll never give you more than you can handle. I never meant to scare you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I—”

“Don’t apologize,” I insist, closing my mouth around hers.

She kisses me back, her movements hesitant at first. I start slow, only wishing to remind her what my affection feels like. Then, as I run my tongue across her bottom lip, her whole body opens up for me. She spreads her legs and runs her hands up my chest and around my shoulders, granting me permission to come even closer. I pull her to the edge of the counter, my dick growing hard as it rubs up against her core. She whimpers, and I know my shy girl has returned to me. I bury my fingers in her hair and pull her head back before licking the length of her neck.

“Jude,” she breathes.

“I hear you, sweetheart,” I assure her, sliding a hand up her side and over her breast.

She squeezes her legs around my hips and my dick jerks.

Swear to god, she’s going to kill me.

“Jude? Jude—will you touch me again?”

I pull away from her, surprised by her request, and shake my head. “We don’t have to. Not tonight—it’s okay.”

“But I want you to,” she murmurs, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. “I ruined it before. I got scared and I—I over thought it and I assumed…I assumed
wrong,
and I know that.”

“Teddy—”

“
Please
,” she begs, tightening her grip around me. “No one has ever made me feel the way you do. I don’t want that taken from me, too. Please, Jude,
please.
”

I don’t answer her right away, caught between the decision of disappointing her or indulging in what we both want. “Are you sure?”

She nods, but as I free my fingers from her hair and cup my hand around her pussy, I know that this will never be enough. My craving for her is too much. I’ve waited too long. Upstairs, on the couch, I was a starving man offered a single bite, and I need
more
.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

I hook my fingers over the top of her panties and start to pull them down, my intentions from earlier resurfacing. “Do you trust me?” I ask again.

“Yes,” she whispers, her eyes locked with mine.

She wiggles in an attempt to help me remove her lacy undergarment. When I’ve got them as far as her knees, I ask, “Do you trust me?” She nods, but it’s not enough. I need
her
to hear the words just as much as I need to hear them. “Say it,” I demand.

“I trust you.”

I sink to my knees, tossing her panties over my shoulder before spreading her legs open wider. She gasps, but she doesn’t speak a word of protest as I admire her pussy. Then, my patience completely eradicated with one whiff of her arousal, I drag my tongue up the length of her slit. She jumps with a cry, and I smile up at her before repeating the action.

“
Judah!
” she moans, gripping the edge of the counter as she throws her head back.

Hearing my name on her lips like that, it jars the beast in me—the animal she’s turned me into, and I can no longer hold back. I
devour
her, thrusting my tongue in and out of her center before swirling it around her clit. I don’t stop until her whole body is quivering and I feel her pussy pulse around my tongue. I lap up every ounce of her desire, in awe of just how fucking delicious she truly is, and then I stand to my feet and crush my lips against hers.

She wraps herself around me, and it’s all I can do not to pull my dick out right now. I don’t. As much as I want to, I know that I can’t. Not tonight. Tonight is about her. Tonight is about trust. The things I want to do to her—the things I
will
do to her—neither of us will enjoy them if she doesn’t
trust
me. So I ignore my throbbing dick and I lift her off of the counter, carrying her into my room before laying her across my bed.

I settle myself between her legs and look down at her, checking to make sure she’s okay. When she reaches up and cups her hands around my face, I know she’s telling me something. She might not know it, but I do. The look in her eyes is a promise. My patience will soon be rewarded—and my wait will have been worth every damn second.

I wake up in bed alone. Upon spotting the empty space beside me, I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. By the looks of the sun shining down on his backyard view, I assume that the morning is well on its way. I search for my phone only to remember that I left it in my purse, which is upstairs. I frown, realizing that my toothbrush is
also
in my purse, and then I climb out of Judah’s big, comfy bed.

After using the bathroom, I wash my hands, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a mess, which makes me groan, and I’m being swallowed by another one of Jude’s t-shirts. Last night, he told me I couldn’t go to sleep in
more
clothing than I had on when I was first deposited into the bed. With only a two-piece allotment, I was as conservative as possible. I know it’s silly, considering the man has had his face in between my legs, but my
I don’t care
mantra doesn’t eliminate my shyness. I’ve never slept
completely
commando before, so I opted for my panties and went without a bra.