CHAPTER ONE

Cady

 

 

 

MY KNEES ALREADY SHOOK. My belly fluttered. My nipples were taut, my pussy slick. Just from walking toward that door.

I had a standing reservation for Room 27 at the Wentworth Inn in Charleston’s peninsula area.

Same hotel room.

Every Thursday.

For two solid months.

I had an assignation.

Oh my God. I’m so old I call a dirty-hot weekly hook-up an assignation.

What happened in 27 was straight-up supreme sex.

Three hours at most.

No phone numbers exchanged. Ever.

The same man.

The same room.

Once a week.

But I hadn’t thought he was a man at all the first time I saw him. I hadn’t been looking for anything either when I’d settled in at the bar that Thursday evening after a particularly grueling mediation battle.

I hadn’t expected anything when the gorgeous boy with the wicked blue eyes framed by spiky black lashes had taken the stool next to me.

I later learned he was only twenty-six to my thirty-eight, so I supposed he wasn’t exactly jailbait, but close enough.

“Hi.” He propped an elbow on the bar, swiveling toward me.

“Hello?” I’d glanced at the tall stranger, ignoring the low hum in my belly caused by his proximity.

“I’m Jude.” He’d held out a hand, and I noted his large fingers, tapered wrist, well-muscled arms revealed by his short sleeve shirt, sprinkled with a dusting of black hair.

“Ca-Catherine.” I told my first deliberate lie, watching his warm hand swallow my palm.

“Nice to meet you, Catherine.” Jude had gauged my nearly empty wine glass then made a sweeping perusal of my body before meeting my gaze with his deep indigo eyes. “Long day at work?”

“How’d you guess?”

He’d motioned toward the soft leather satchel dangling at the hook by my knees. Its sides bulged, burdened with legal documents I’d still need to go over later that night.

“Touché.” I’d tipped my glass toward him. “Are you trying to pick me up?”

“Absolutely.” Grinning, he reached for his beer.

I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he took a long drink. Afterward, he rubbed a finger across the dampness on his lips, and I heard the rasp of the short dark stubble on skin. It was a thoroughly masculine sound, one I hadn’t heard for a long time.

But that was no reason to lose my head. Over a man I’d just met. A very young man, no less.

“You do realize there are about”—I paused to take a look around at all the leggy coeds populating the bar, probably for the Thirsty Thursday drinks specials—“twenty college-aged women checking you out right now, and I’m much older than you?”

“Hadn’t noticed.” Smirk firmly in place, he directed all his attention on me.

“Let me guess. You want to buy me a drink.”

“Already did.” Dimples deepened in his cheeks when the bartender set a fresh glass of wine in front of me.

“Well played.” I’d touched the rim of the glass with a fingertip, tracing around and around before taking the stem between my fingers and slowly lifting the drink to my lips.

Just then, two big bungling oafs who looked even younger than my surprise companion had appeared beside him. “Hey, dude. Aren’t you Jude Ra—”

“Nope. Not me.” He curtly cut off the spokesman of the drunk duo.

Then he’d glared at the pair with hard eyes, his face otherwise impassive, until they shrugged and bumbled off.

His hasty reaction piqued my interest, but I’d forgotten all about the minor incident when he’d angled closer to me.

I’d felt captured in his focus, very aware of the big thigh encased in denim right next to my leg.

“I’ve been watching you, Catherine.”

“Oh really? Do I need to file a restraining order?”

His laugh rumbled out, deep and sonorous. “Promise I’m not a creeper. It’s just, a beautiful woman, sitting on her own at a bar—you said there were a bunch of girls checking me out. Well, I saw about five men come close to taking this stool beside you. Five guys who almost approached you but couldn’t quite find their balls—”

An unbidden laugh bubbled from my throat at his choice of words.

“So I’m wondering if you know you’ve got this thing. That you’re untouchable?”

My head had whipped around. “Are you suggesting I’m cold?”

“The opposite. I bet you’re hot as fuck, and I like a challenge.”

His bold words knocked the breath from my body.

His blunt approach snared my attention.

His strong bold body made my common sense momentarily backfire.

I couldn’t deny the attraction, but he was simply too young. Besides, I hadn’t been with anyone for so long I wasn’t sure I was ready.

He’d propositioned me. “You know that hotel across the road?”

“The Wentworth?”

“Why don’t you come get a room with me?”

“What? No student apartment or frat house?”

His jaw had hardened, making his face leaner, older, incredibly intense. “Let’s get one thing straight, Catherine. I’m not some green college kid. And I know exactly what to do with a woman as fine as you.”

Suddenly I saw him very, very sexually.

“If you come with me, I’ll make it worth your while.” He uttered the promise in an undertone that sent a thrill shooting up my spine.

I’d quirked an eyebrow, trying to hold onto amusement lest I get too carried away. “And how would you do that?”

“First I’d ask you to close your eyes.”

At the sound of his deep compelling suggestion, my lids drifted shut.

“I’d kiss your delicate chin.”

My head had notched up a little.

“Then your cheeks, softly, like a warm whisper.”

I felt him shifting closer, his male scent and body heat surging against me.

“Your neck, where your pulse has begun fluttering. I’d kiss a line up to the sensitive skin right behind your earlobe.”

Biting my lip, I held in a moan.

“And when you begged me to kiss your mouth, I’d bring my lips to the corner of yours, but I’d stop just before touching you, Catherine.”

The fantasy Jude conjured only slightly faltered when he used the fake name I’d given him.

“I’d wait until you wet your lips like you’re doing right now. Then I’d trace the same path with my tongue and, as soon as your lips parted, I’d let my tongue swirl inside.”

Breathing in shakily, I tucked my tongue behind my teeth.

“When my hand brushes down to your breast—”

My back had arched as my breath hitched, and I could almost feel his fingers coasting over my dress.

“Your nipples would already be hard, achy for me to palm them, pluck them. If I asked you to unbutton the top of your dress so I could see those sweet tits, you would. But I don’t. Not even when you sway into my touch because you want more.”

Swallowing and almost panting, I’d clutched the edge of the bar.

“I’d skim my fingers up under the hem of your dress, caressing the insides of your thighs. I’d pop one button open then another, freeing your breasts. And when my hand finally pressed against your pussy, I’d curl my other fingers inside the top of your dress, under your bra, to cup your warm, naked tit.”

Responding to his crude words, my nipples had hardened into tight buds. Heat spilled down between my thighs, thighs I clenched.

“And I know I’d find your cunt wet.”

How could this young man I’d never met before bring me to the verge of orgasm with just his low, whispered suggestions?

“I wouldn’t fuck you until I made you come on my fingers and then in my mouth, Catherine.” His voice clung closer to my ear. “Wouldn’t fuck you until you pleaded for my hard cock to fill the sucking hot wetness of your greedy pussy.”

Opening dazed eyes, I’d stepped off the stool onto wobbling legs.

But I made sure my voice hadn’t shook when I’d sauntered between his spread thighs, pressed my hand against his hard chest, and invited, “Let’s get a room.”

To say Jude had lived up to his promise was a massive understatement.

Every week he took me on a wild sexual journey that left me sore and wanting more the next day.

He was controlling.

Dominant.

Absolutely filthy.

Sometimes he stroked his cock, standing over me, until warm ropes of cum spattered across my neck and breasts. Then he’d yank my head back by my hair and feed the thick seed into my mouth on his fingers while I shook and trembled and got so hot I soaked my inner thighs.

He was wicked, raunchy, and had absolutely no sexual boundaries.

The hook-ups had started in July. Now it was September. I’d spent the week working insane hours, and all day today anticipating what indecent ideas Jude would propose tonight.

I paused for just a second outside the door of Room 27, but I needn’t have. I always made it a point to arrive before him because as much as giving up everything to him made me feverish with desire, I liked to at least pretend I had some semblance of control over our rendezvous.

Opening the door, I almost misstepped when I saw Jude was already there. He sat in the chair next to the window, the light of early evening dusting over him.

“You’re early?”

He didn’t bother to answer me.

His silence made me breathless.

His gaze roved over me as the door silently swung closed behind me.

Once again, I was ensnared by his attention.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Catherine?” He nodded toward the ice bucket and the bottle of rosado he knew I preferred, another weekly feature I usually supplied.

My taste buds swelled, not at the thought of a drink, but at the idea of having his beautiful thick cock in my mouth, thrusting against my tongue.

I stepped farther into the room, compelled by the tingling his rough voice sent down my belly to my empty pussy. My heels clicked, and Jude watched from the chair, his dark-shadowed chin propped in one hand, middle finger idly rubbing back and forth across his sculpted top lip.

The other corner of his mouth curled up, and the bulge in his jeans became more evident with every sway of my hips.

“No, Jude. I want to suck your delicious cock.”

“You wanna be my cum slut again?” His gritty voice rumbled from his broad chest.

His base words destroyed any last shred of my calm.

I stepped closer, heat pooling between my thighs. Illicit thoughts tumbled inside my head and out of my mouth. “I’ll be whatever you want. Just give me your cock. I need it.”

“Too bad. I need your dripping wet cunt on my face first.”