CHAPTER NINE

Cady

 

 

 

TIME MOVED FAST. THE older the boys got, the quicker the days passed. October rolled around, bringing with it more divorce cases, more squabbling couples, and more near misses with Jude.

He was in my life. In my house. But he was not getting back into my panties.

I made sure I was never alone with him again. I couldn’t trust myself. Not after the last time—that evening in the bathroom.

I’d actually wondered if he’d come to work on Friday.

I needn’t have.

He was always punctual, decidedly sexy, and too damn good with my kids.

Add to that, he was temptation incarnate. Just one look from him, and my knees turned to jelly.

He only had to drawl my name and I became quivering putty.

He sapped my will with every smile, his deep dimples, his blue blue eyes, and always, always the reminder of his hard long lovemaking that turned me into a purely sexual being.

I took sanctuary in work, a daily reminder love didn’t last, men weren’t to be trusted, and Gregory might’ve destroyed my ability to give myself completely to anyone ever again.

One Wednesday at noon, Joelle knocked once on my door before breezing inside.

“It’s Thursday tomorrow.” She notched a hip against my desk.

I rolled my eyes.

“Or should I say Thirsty Thursday?”

“Not you too?” I shoved my chair back, kicking off my heels and digging my aching toes into the plush carpet.

“All I’m suggesting is you used to look forward to that particular day of the week. Now you scowl you’re way through it like it’s an Olympic event for Grumpy Cat.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.”

“How is it I’m older than you?” Pushing off my desk, Joelle dropped a package in my lap she’d hidden behind her back.

“What’s this?”

“It’s Boss’s Day.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Close enough.” She suppressed a smile, her honey highlighted hair curling around her chin.

Then she leaned forward and whispered, “It’s a newfangled vibrator.”

I threw the parcel aside like it’d grown an STD.

She laughed loud and boisterously, bending over to retrieve the box. “I’m kidding. It’s the bikini you ordered.”

“I didn’t order a new bathing suit. And most certainly not a bikini.”

“I know. It’s Boss’s Day,” she repeated, unrepentant. “And today I’m the boss. By the way, how’s Jude?”

“No comment.”

“Have you gotten freaky with him lately?”

“I plead the Fifth.”

“Oh you funny lawyer.” Sarcasm oozed off Joelle like slow melting molasses. “It’s a half day at school for Aiden, Luke, and Dane, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“So why don’t you go home? Spend it with the boys? And take your present with you.”

“Because Jude’s there.” Tucking my feet back into my heels, I rolled to my desk.

“All the more incentive.”

“What are you really angling for this time?” I slapped my laptop closed and peered at the interfering woman.

“If you knock off early, so can I.”

“And there we have it.”

“See you tomorrow!”

****

That early October day brought with it eighty degree heat, and by the time I arrived home, my hair was frazzled and my nerves even more on edge.

I walked inside, standing over an AC vent to let that cool air blow right up my skirt.

I wasn’t a proud woman when it came to enduring an autumn heatwave.

Not. At. All.

Once I’d cooled down, I made my way to the kitchen that could only be described as a total disaster zone. Eyes widening, I scanned the room incredulously. Dishes everywhere. Two open pizza boxes. Empty popsicle cartons. The sweet tea jug sweating and slippery on the island.

I heard splashing and shouts coming from the pool in the backyard.

Ignoring the destruction of my kitchen, I opened the fridge. Locating my wine, I poured a full-to-the-top glass then savored the first cool swallow.

Slipping off my stilettoes, I took my hair down and undid the top couple buttons of my blouse.

Bare feet padded inside behind me then stopped.

“Fuck me.” The deep masculine voice must’ve accompanied an appraisal of my figure-hugging skirt that ended just above the knee.

Hollers echoed from my boys in the pool, and I slowly pivoted, magnetically pulled to Jude.

He stood, staring, until a sensual half smile tugged one corner of his mouth.

Good Lord. He was wet from the pool, droplets of water clinging to his skin the way I wanted to. The tiny diamonds of liquid meandered across his jaw-droppingly defined chest and through the smattering of dark hair. More drops gathered, snaking to the tight line bisecting his deeply carved abs. All of which led to his low slung board shorts and the bulge of his cock beneath.

The delectable cock my mouth watered for.

I backed up.

Jude advanced, his eyes hungry and all over me.

“Is Dane in the pool alone? Everyone knows he’s not supposed to go in unsupervised! He gets scared.” I grabbed at the first excuse I could think of to escape Jude.

“He’s not alone, and anyway, he’s cool. We’re teaching him to dive too.” Jude managed to corner me against the island.

I blinked at him, astonished. Dane’s fear had started two summers ago when he’d been attempting a running somersault. He’d slipped on the wet tile, banged his head against the side of the pool, and for a few brief moments lost consciousness there in the water. I still shuddered at the horrible memory.

But it was Dane who’d suffered a concussion followed by fear of water. A phobia I probably exacerbated by insisting the entire rest of that summer he stay near the steps in the shallow end. After that, wild horses couldn’t get him to go any deeper than his head.

“How did you coax him into the deep end to show him how to dive?”

“Told him I got a concussion once too. Playing football.” The vibrant blue of Jude’s eyes roamed over my face. “And that I got back on the field as soon as the doc cleared me no matter how scared I was of getting hurt again.”

His knee. The injury that ruined his career.

I looked at Jude with something close to wonder, trying to imagine how he remained so damn determined and, even more unfathomable, optimistic.

Then I remembered I was done with him. With all men.

I slipped away from him to station myself near the sink. I sipped more wine, tried not to think about how very close to naked he was, and how very honest he always seemed to be.

He watched, swiping one big hand across his wet chest. “Sorry we made a mess in here. I’ll clean this shit up after the kids finish swimming.”

“You don’t swear around the boys do you?”

He combed his fingers through his hair. And his shorts slipped low enough to point out the delicious grooves that lead to his . . . to his . . .

“’Course not. Oh, and I talked to Aiden about his cum sock.”

Wine spewed from my lips.

I grabbed a handful of napkins and pretended to delicately wipe my gaping mouth. “Aiden’s what?”

“Told him to wash out his cum sock?”

I cradled my forehead in my hand. “I can’t even.”

“It’s normal, Cady. He’s a teen.”

“Did you have one of those things?”

“Uh yeah. But I knew better than to let it get all funky.”

“Oh my Lord.” I drained my glass, and suddenly Jude was close enough to replenish my wine.

“You told me you never got yourself off, darlin’.”

“I said I didn’t finger myself.” I sent him my own devious smile.

His eyes blazed.

“Not exactly the same thing.” I winked at him over my glass.

His features turned stark, his grin wolfish. “You need to show me.”

“You can’t do that.” I wagged a finger at him.

“Do what?”

“Give me the dimples.”

Plucking the glass from my hand, he pinned me against the counter, and his thick cock settled perfectly against me when he bent his knees.

My hands flew to his chest. “Jude.”

“Darlin’.” His mouth swooped to mine then deviated just as quickly away.

He kissed my neck, hands dropping to settle against my rear end. He nibbled up to my ear and whispered my name in that same husky tone he always used around me. His lips achingly, slowly, ventured back to my mouth, and I met his kiss. Our tongues eased against each other before he pulled back.

A breath of a sigh left my lips as he drew his hands from me. And when I took up my glass, wine spilled over because of my shaky fingers.

“Should I clean up this mess too?” He searched my eyes as if seeking out my innermost secrets.

As if he knew how hot he made me, liquid spilling between my legs, breasts aching to be held by his hands.

“Please do.” I turned on my heel to leave temptation behind.

But he was at my back in an instant. Not touching, but close enough his male heat swarmed me and his rumbling voice seared me. “Or should I clean up the juice between your thighs? With my mouth.”

My breath hitched, and I took halting steps away from him while every instinct in my body urged me to run to him, not from him.

Upstairs, I opened Joelle’s package and examined the two tiny scraps of material she purported to be a bathing suit.

I texted her immediately:

This is not age appropriate!

Joelle hit me back:

Wear it or I quit.

Gritting my teeth, I stripped off. The bikini was made of nothing but three tiny shimmery dark green triangles with gold-tipped tassels at my hips and at my back. Putting on the poor excuse for a bathing suit, I adjusted all my bits several times just to make sure nothing would fall out by accident.

Then I spun before the mirror, not at all convinced.

At least my ass was covered up?

I turned around again, looking at myself with less critical eyes and letting myself feel good.

I felt sexy.

And nervous.

And possibly a little foolish. At my age . . .

I slathered on SPF 50 sunscreen. Swept up my hair and banded it high. I shoved my feet into my old dingy flip-flops . . . then I kicked them off.

Downstairs, I took another sip of wine in the kitchen.

Then I stepped onto the back patio in my daring bikini that bared a lot more skin than I was used to.

Joelle was wicked, planting seeds. I would not give her another raise for this. But she did have a fashion guru’s eye, I’d give her that.

Proven when Jude took one look at me then unceremoniously dropped Luke from his shoulders with a cannonball splash.