Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) (45 page)

“Bad things can’t be avoided, Jude. It’s like you said—shit happens. Sometimes you have to go through things. That’s just the way the world works. But that doesn’t mean that God isn’t good.” I sigh in frustration, having difficulty finding my words. I think for a moment and then it clicks.

“Jesus died. He was dead and buried. And then, on the third day, he rose. To me, that’s what Christianity is all about. What’s
dead
can come
alive
again. God makes beauty out of ashes. He made beauty out of
me
.

“After Justin—I felt as good as dead. I mean, I’ve never felt so worthless and broken and just—
damaged
. Even as life went on, it wasn’t enough to get through each day. So I tried church. God found me there and He brought me back to life. Now, yes, I’m dealing with more Justin shit! And it’s killing me. But God is still good, and He’ll help me. I believe that. I
have
to believe that.”

As I say the words, I feel a sob rising up and clogging my throat. When I start to cry, I wish I wouldn’t, but I can’t hold it back. It hurts—it all
hurts
—my past encroaching on my future. I feel like there are so many questions, and I have not a single answer.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jude assures me, wrapping his arms around me snuggly. “I get it. You have to do what works for you. This is your thing—so you should do it.”

It takes me a second to calm down. When I do, I sniffle as I wipe my cheeks dry. Jude traces a finger along my jaw before tilting my chin up.

“I don’t like to see you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“
Stop
apologizing. You have no reason to be sorry.”

“I’m—”

I don’t even realize that I’m about to offer him another apology until he shuts me up, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth. It makes me giggle, which makes him smile, which fills my stomach with butterflies. Suddenly, all I want to do is kiss him. As if he can read my mind, he frees my lip just before he closes his mouth around mine. I circle my arms around his neck, humming my pleasure as his tongue massages mine.

I feel it when he grows hard beneath me, and my nipples pebble in response. I pull him even closer, needing more of his body pressed against mine, and he holds me tighter. Then, without any warning, he pulls away, leaving me gasping for air.

“Fuck—I can’t. I can’t kiss you like that and not touch you.”

“Oh,” I breathe. I try and think of something else to say, but I’ve got nothing.

“Dammit,” he mutters, burying his face in my neck. I whimper when he grazes his teeth along my skin before pinching my flesh in a tiny bite. “I’m warning you now, sweetheart—when I finally get you naked, I plan on fucking you over and over and over until you can’t take it anymore.”

I squeeze my thighs together, the sensation he causes between my legs at his words catching me off guard. I know, with everything in me, that I want him—I want him to take me, I want him to have me, however he wants.

“Up you go. My dick can’t take it anymore,” he insists, encouraging me out of his lap. “We need to cool this shit down. It’s time for ice cream.”

I nod, scurrying onto my feet before straightening my hoodie on my way to the kitchen. I’m almost there when I feel his strong arms lock around my middle, pulling me against him and off of my feet. His erection, clearly not cooled down in the slightest, presses against my ass, making my head fill with many inappropriate thoughts. I welcome them all, content with the way he stirs my desire.

“You’re too goddamn sexy, you know that?” he mutters in my ear.

I shake my head at him, heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Believe it, sweetheart. My cock doesn’t lie.”

He sets me down directly in front of my fridge and we both reach for the freezer door, opening it together. Now, I’m sure I’m in just as much need of this ice cream as he is. In fact, I’d wager a guess that there’s going to be a lot of ice cream in our future. The next couple of weeks can’t come fast enough.

F
ifty days.

Fifty
fucking
days.

Fifty
fucking
days since I’ve fucked.

That all ends tonight. I can hardly wait. It’s practically all I can think about. I’ve been dreaming of burying my dick into my shy girl for
weeks
. I’ve been in her mouth twice now, but I want more. I need it. I hunger for it. My craving is stronger than any I’ve ever felt before. I want to
unravel
her. I want to unleash her
wild
. I want to hear her
beg
for more and
plead
for mercy. I want to ruin her for all others—breaking her little body to pieces before putting her back together again. I intend to own her—every fucking inch of her gorgeous body—it will be mine.

Tonight.

God—I can hardly wait.

“Judah?”

I’m pulled from my thoughts at the sound of Aunt Eddalyn’s voice. When I look over at her, I find her eyeing me curiously. I’ve been off all morning, golfing like shit. I can’t help it. My mind is focused on my exquisite redhead. She’s been off her antibiotics for the last two days. If I didn’t have to work late last night, and if I hadn’t promised my aunt a round of golf, I’d be at home ravaging my woman now.

“My goodness, I don’t know how I didn’t see this before.”

“Pardon?” I ask, trying my damnedest to stay focused on the conversation at hand.

“You’re in love,” she says with a grin.

I frown at her as I shake my head once. “No.”

Love is for fools—and I am no fool.

“No more golf,” she says with a quiet laugh. “I’m buying you breakfast and you’re going to tell me all about her.”

“And why are you so sure there’s a
her?
” I ask, following her lead. She doesn’t wait for me to agree to abandoning our game before she starts for the clubhouse. As we begin our walk, I have a vague recollection of promising Teddy she could tag along one morning for a round with me.

“Ben told me you were seeing someone a few days ago. I don’t know you to be a man who speaks on such matters, so I figured you would tell me if and when it became relevant. However, this morning, your behavior is far too obvious to ignore.”

“Are you implying that I can’t play a bad round of golf unless there’s a woman on my mind?”

“I’m saying, in all the years that I’ve played with you, you’ve never been such poor company. Your head is in the clouds, my dear. It’s not just your
game
. Now, in an attempt to salvage my morning with my nephew, I’ve come up with only one solution—discuss the woman who has him so
captivated
.”

I want to tell her that she’s wrong; that my level of distraction has nothing to do with
love
; that I’m simply a deprived man who hasn’t had sex in far too long; that I can no longer boast of not being an animal, for a
beast
is exactly what I am—a ravenous beast with an insatiable desire for one seemingly unattainable catch—a catch that will be mine. Tonight.

God, I can hardly wait.

I’m pulled from my thoughts at the sound of a laugh, and my gaze flicks down to the small, blonde woman beside me. Her blue eyes are alight with amusement, and I realize I let my head get the better of me again.

“I must admit, I never thought I’d see the day. I, myself, have never been a woman who liked the idea of settling down with a man. I thought, perhaps, if the right one came around—someone who could handle my level of ambition, drive, and success—then I would certainly entertain the notion of commitment. But men are funny creatures, and I tend to intimidate most of them. When I don’t intimidate them, it’s like a pissing match, and I don’t have time for that sort of nonsense.

“But you, my dear nephew, you always struck me as the type of man who could love fiercely, if you so desired. I know who you are. I know your heart. I know how passionate of a person you can be, and I have imagined what that might look like when directed at someone other than your parents, Ben,
me
, or even your work. Though, I figured you were too stubborn to let your work rest long enough to find someone to share your life with.”

“Share my life with?” I interrupt, appalled by all that she has said. “Aunt Eddalyn, I’m not in love. I don’t
fall in love
. Why Ben felt the need to tell you anything about my relationship status is beyond me. However, I will admit that he’s right. There is a woman. But I have no intention of
sharing my life
with her.”

“So, this
woman
who has you so distracted, she’s just a fling?” She arches an eyebrow at me, her knowing look piercing me straight through.

I won’t lie to her. I’m not a liar, and after the last two months, I’m sure what Teddy and I have is
not
a fling. We haven’t had sex. We’ve
barely
fooled around—by definition, what we have is not nearly as casual as all of that.

“No,” I finally answer.

“I figured as much,” she says with a smirk. “Tell me, what is her name?”

“Theodora.” Her name rolls off of my tongue with ease, and I imagine her in my head as I say it. My shy girl—more beautiful than she knows. “She introduces herself as Teddy.”

“I’d like to meet her. I hope this can be arranged.”

I look down at her, studying her expression. I can see she’s not so much
asking
as
insisting
that I make it happen. I sigh, knowing that if I introduce Teddy to Eddalyn, it’ll be a matter of
minutes
before my mother is calling, insisting that she must meet her, too.

I’m going to kill Benjamin.

“I’ll ask her,” I offer.

“Good. Now, where shall we dine for breakfast? I’d like to hear more about your Teddy.”

From the moment I woke up, I’ve been on edge. I didn’t even have my morning coffee, afraid what it would do to my nerves. I went on a long run, hoping that it would calm me down, but I spent the majority of my jaunt thinking about the man who has me so anxious in the first place. After I got back to my apartment, I reconsidered my lack of coffee. Now, three cups later, I’m laying stretched out across my living room floor, wondering if tonight will be the
beginning
of something—or the end of it?

I won’t claim to know my boyfriend inside and out. He’s a peculiar, mysterious man. Nevertheless, I know that in bed—he knows
exactly
what he’s doing. I, on the other hand, have very little clue as to how to please him. I know he’s been waiting for me. He’s been so incredibly patient, letting me set our pace, just as he promised he would. But I’m not stupid. It’s been almost two months since that night he stood me up—the last night that he had sex. I know that he’s done waiting. I know how much he wants me—I know because I feel it too.

I’ve been waiting right along with him. It is true that my wait looks a lot different than his, and it’s fueled by my painful past; it is true that I wasn’t aware that I’ve been waiting for
him
—but I want him. I want Judah. My body craves him. Even now, just thinking about how he makes me feel just by
looking
at me—I know that I don’t want to wait. I’ve waited long enough. But I’m also afraid.

I’m afraid that I won’t be good enough. I’m afraid that I won’t live up to his expectation of me. I’m afraid that in the morning, maybe I won’t be as
exquisite
as he insists that I am. He claims that I am his, but what if I’m not like all the other women who came before me? I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want his intimate awareness of me to make me less appealing to him.