I stopped in front of her, my palms facing out, the white plastic bags hanging from my fingers dripping olive oil.

“What’s in the boxes?” She jutted her chin to the takeout.

“Body parts.”

“Always a charmer.”

“Can you ask that again, but dramatically, a la Brad Pitt in Seven?”

I expected her to roll her eyes at me like Lily did every time I teased her for being overdramatic. Instead, Jude turned around, giving me her back, then spun theatrically.

“What’s in the boxes!” She pretended to point a gun at me, and for the first time in years—yes, years—I actually laughed. Full-blown fucking cackled. It felt weird on my face, in my chest, in my lungs.

“Italian.”

“Blech. Anticlimactic.” But her smile didn’t waver.

She really wanted to be pussy-slapped with all this sass.

I put down one of the bags to punch in the security code. She picked it up like it was the most natural thing in the world. Lily would’ve died in the hands of sadists before helping me carry leaky takeout home.

Speaking of Lily, as we walked toward the elevators, I considered that my ex might be here, dropping by for another unwanted visit. She knew I was seeing other people, but I never went as far as bringing anyone to my apartment.

Judith, however, wasn’t just a fuck. She was the fuck. I could keep her for years, if it wasn’t for the fact that girls like Jude would never settle. This was a lapse in her judgment. She would come on my dick, and then around, and then realize she deserved so much better.

Upstairs we tore into the bags and ate pasta and pizza in front of the news, exchanging thoughts and opinions. After she ate her weight in carbs, Jude asked where the bathroom was. I pointed to the end of the hallway, then gathered all the empty containers and bags, throwing them in the trash. I stared down at my hands. They were still shaking from the taxi incident this morning. I knocked back a shot of vodka, chasing it with an Advil. Then I realized the shower in the main bathroom had been turned on.

What the fuck?

I padded barefoot down the hallway, knocking on the door.

“Everything good?”

“Yes!” she shrieked. “Fine. Great. Splendid. I’ll think of more synonyms in a second.”

“Are you taking a shower?” It was out of character for Jude to do anything without permission. She was straight as a ruler, which was why bending her over was my favorite pastime.

“Actually…”

“I’ll join you.” There had been a lot of eating and talking and not enough fucking this evening, and I think she’d had her quota of wining and dining. I’d been fantasizing about shoving my cock between her legs every minute during our workday. Waiting longer was pointless.

“I’d rather you not.” She cleared her throat.

A slow grin spread on my face.

“Chucks, are you…?”

“No!” she screeched, knocking something over. A shampoo, maybe. “Of course not. Jesus Christ. I would never…”

“Take a shit? Yes, you would. Otherwise you’d die of constipation. Tell me why you can’t open the door or I’ll kick it down.”

She turned off the water, and I heard her shuffling in the room before she opened the door. Her dress was bunched up around her waist, and she was gloriously panty-less. She stared at me with strawberry-red face, her Cupid’s bow lips pressed into a scowl I shouldn’t have found so goddamn adorable.

“Need your diaper changed?” I leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. She was somewhat younger than me, but not enough for me to give a fuck.

Her fingers looped together, and she stared down at them. “I just wanted to make sure I’d freshened up down there before you…”

It was my second time to laugh today, and that must’ve been some sort of record. My body was rejecting the laugh, though, I swear, because I actually coughed. “Carry on. Finish the sentence.”

“Well, in case you wanted to…I don’t know, perform oral. It’s been a long day. I didn’t want to smell bad.”

I took a step inside and cupped both her cheeks, angling her face up to look at me. Her eyes were a wild shade of hazel, green, and suddenly sterling gray. Like the universe had wrapped around her pupils—lizard-like, really. She bit her lower lip and stared up at my mouth.

“I called you here because I want to eat your pussy and fuck your brains out. And I want your pussy to smell and taste like a pussy, not like soap.”

Her tongue swiped over her lower lip, pink chasing more and more of her skin as her blush deepened.

“You talk dirty.”

“I fuck dirtier, kid. Now, if you want to take a shower, you’re welcome to. But first, I need my dessert.” I cupped her bare pussy, my palm pressed against her mound, my fingers already grazing her entrance. My other hand wrapped around her waist and jerked her to my erect cock. She quivered against my body as the rough pads of my fingers dragged along her slit, dripping like honey.

“Soaked,” I hissed into her mouth, pinching her clit, then plunging three fingers deep inside her and curling them to hit her G-spot. “And delicious.”

“Jesu…” she started, then clamped her mouth shut.

I lifted an eyebrow in question. She laughed, biting down on that lip again.