AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He saw me out to the porch. I made a mad dash for my car, realizing with a sharp pang that Jude’s motorcycle was nowhere in sight. Nor was he.
The awful things I’d said started spinning through my head on the drive home. He didn’t deserve my anger, my bitterness. The worst part was that he had been right, and deep down, I knew it all along. Why he became so cold while staring at the painting, I don’t know, but no matter what, I was still the one in the wrong.
“Oh hell!”
I hit the steering wheel with the palm of my hand and headed for the French Quarter. The streets were empty with the downpour settling in. Lightning flashed. I pulled onto the curb a block down from Jude’s place, the closest spot I could find.
Of course, I had no umbrella. I never did. Mindy kept like four in her car, all in varying shades and patterns to match whatever ensemble she happened to be wearing when caught in the rain. Me, I never had one. I ran as fast as I could, realizing the rain had pushed in a calm front. I could feel the air dropping by degrees since I’d left my dad’s ten minutes ago.
I ran into the alcove and found the gate locked. I was nearly soaked through, shivering and wishing I could get into Jude’s warm living room and wait there. Perhaps I should come back later. My emotions had caused me to react irrationally, defensively.
Discovering that my mother had indeed been ill, choosing suicide over fighting another day left a trail of bitterness in my gut. I could never face the truth before now. Before Jude. I didn’t even know what I was going to say to him. I just knew I needed to apologize. He didn’t deserve my anger.
The temperature was dropping, and I had no idea when he was coming back. I had decided to leave when my VS tingled. I felt him approaching. He rounded the corner, swathed in shadow.
“Jude, I wanted to—”
My pulse sped up frantically. He stalked toward me in long, smooth strides. Wearing black jeans and a white button-down, wet and clinging to his skin, he moved with determined purpose straight toward me. As if he knew I was there. As if he knew I was waiting. His eyes gleamed molten gold, and in them, I read only one feral emotion—hunger.
Never had I seen this hue or emotion shining in his eyes. Not like this, edged with steel and violence. I knew he was something other, but at that moment, I honestly feared where he’d come from and who’d made him.
I couldn’t move. I waited, like a doe in the headlights.
He reached me, grasped my wrists, and pinned them to the wall above my head. He crushed his lips to mine and covered my body with his in one swift move. A whimpering noise escaped my lips, barely, before he devoured any other sound of protest or pleasure.
Demanding submission, he explored my mouth with lips and tongue. God, how I’d imagined what kissing him would be like. This wasn’t it. Fire branded me from the inside out. All thoughts of anything else fled. Gone. All I wanted was this. All I could think, smell, breathe was Jude. His body pressed against mine, a visceral friction clawing between us.
One hand cuffed my wrists; the other gripped my jaw firmly, keeping me in place so he could do as he pleased. I could hardly breathe from the shock of the assault to my senses as he slanted his mouth over mine, tongue stroking deep.
His hand trailed down my body, over my soaked shirt, then under. A large hand squeezed my hip, caressing up the side of my waist along bare skin. He nipped at my lower lip as if he longed to consume me, bit by bit. I wasn’t complaining. He released my mouth, biting along my jaw. So rough.
“So sweet,” he whispered.
Words I’d never imagined he’d say. I panted, trying to catch my breath. He trailed scorching kisses down my neck. My skin burned, like being licked by fire. My Vessel sense flared into orbit, screaming for these sensations to stop. I wondered fleetingly how my mind and my body could have totally different opinions on the matter.
He shifted away just enough so his hand could trail over my rib cage, then higher. He clasped my breast—a proprietary feel, not a lover’s caress. He pinched my nipple through my bra—hard—rolling it till it peaked for him. He growled and rolled his pelvis, grinding his hard dick between my parted legs.
“Wait, Jude,” I murmured.
He apparently was as overwhelmed as I was. He lowered his hands to my outer thighs and lifted me up, pushing his pelvis to hold me in place, again showing me the extent of his desire, grinding against me on a moan.
His desire was more than evident. My thoughts scrambled from the sensations burning through my body. Too much. Too much. The dynamic of our relationship had changed in a blink.
Feeling faint, knowing I needed to reel this in as we were both overcome, I tried to lower myself. He pushed harder against me, growling. Dropping one leg, he hooked his fingers over the collar of my blouse and yanked it down over one shoulder, popping the top three buttons. Sharp teeth grazed the skin along my lower neck near my pulse.
“Jude!”
Warning bells clanged inside, trying to wake me up. I heard them. Too late. Pointed teeth punctured my skin. I cried out. Stinging pain ripped through me as he drank from the bite, sucking hard and fast.
“Stop!”
Panic seized me. I shoved at his chest, moving him only an inch, but enough to get both feet on the ground. He released my throat with a groan, his tongue licking one more time over the bite. I stared where my hands landed, splayed across his chest. Through the thin shirt and along the V of the open neckline, I saw…nothing. No sharp-edged, lovely lines of a cresting Celtic cross. My heart hammered like a rabbit who’s been caught by the cat, waiting for the death blow.
“You have no tattoos,” was all I could say, stupidly. The truth dawning second by second, the air growing colder.
“I have no use for that.”
Not Jude’s voice. Somehow, I found the courage to look up into his eyes. Molten gold glimmered, then bled into crimson.
