I closed my eyes and sucked in a slow breath to calm myself down. I could already feel the blood rushing to certain parts of my body at having him alone and this close. I could not, I would not sleep with him until I’d worked through this crap in my head.

“Tell me what you want, Luce,” he said, stopping a few feet in front of me. I could smell him; I could almost taste him on my lips. I could nearly feel him. . . .

I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed. “I don’t know,” I admitted, sensing him stepping closer.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, and now his body pressed into mine.

Dammit. My weakening resolve was officially about to be a lost cause.

Then his mouth moved outside my ear, and the heat of his breath broke across my neck. “What,” he whispered, “do you”—his teeth sank into my earlobe—“want?” His hips flexed into me, and when I felt him hard against me, that last bit of restraint I’d been clinging to slipped right through my fingers.

I opened my eyes. Now that I’d jumped, I was going to enjoy the fall.

I waited until he looked into my eyes. “I want you,” I said, my fingers moving for his zipper. I was long past the point of foreplay. “Here. Now.” Sliding his zipper down, I rested my mouth outside his ear. “And hard.”

Jude sucked in a sharp breath, but that was all the surprise he allowed himself. His hands made quick work of untying my robe. Grabbing my hips, he hoisted me up and carried me over to the table. His mouth found mine and he kissed me like he’d never kissed me before. It was desperate, and hungry, and almost painful.

But the pain felt good. I needed to feel it right now.

After unfastening the button of his pants, I tugged them down. Grabbing him in my hand, I lay back on the table. Jude stared down at me, his face a mix of emotions. My mind, for the first time since this afternoon, was clear. And content.

As I guided him toward me, he paused. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he said, his breath strained.

“Come and find out,” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him closer.

His face creased as my hand moved up and down him, but he restrained himself.

“Jude,” I whispered, “please.” I lifted my hips until I could feel him right where he should be.

Moving just barely inside, he groaned. I groaned louder. The torture was insane, and if he was going to play it nice and slow, I’d just have to change his mind. Nice and slow wasn’t on the agenda for tonight.

At the same time I tightened my legs around him, I flexed my hips higher, effectively taking the rest of him inside me.

“Oh, God.” I sighed, feeling like I could come now that he was all the way inside me. When his hips flexed, I almost did.

“Shit, Luce,” he said, breathing heavily outside my ear. “You really were ready.”

Performing that hip swivel thing that drove him up the wall, I moved his hand from my hip until it was covering my breast. “Then what are you waiting for?”

His hands squeezed both my hip and my breast, and then he started moving his hips more. I’d wanted hard, and that was what I got.

Each time he thrust into me I was sure I was going to come, but I didn’t. This time I was the one waiting for him. The table started wobbling beneath me as he picked up his pace. My fingers drilled into his back; all I could do was hang on and enjoy the way he was making me feel.

I heard every low growl when he slid inside, along with every tortured groan when he slid out. “Come, baby,” he breathed, rocking into me faster. “I want to feel you come.”

His hand slid from my hip down lower, until his thumb was circling over my clit.

I knew I was close, but my orgasm came the next instant. Jude’s body touching me both inside and outside in every way sent me right over the big O edge so powerfully, I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. I shouted his name, feeling my muscles contract around him as he slammed into me a final time. He sighed my name so many times I lost count, before collapsing on top of me.

NINE

I could still smell Jude on my pillow, but his head wasn’t sharing it with mine like it had all night. Well, all night after our makeup tabletop sexcapade.

But he was close. His off-key singing to the song playing on the radio was a dead giveaway. As I rolled over, a smile was already in place.

When my eyes landed on a backside, a bare backside, manning the coffee machine, my smile stretched wider.

“Have I mentioned lately what a fine ass you have?” I said, propping up onto my elbows, because if Jude’s bare backside was on display for my ogling pleasure, I was going to enjoy the view.

He smirked at me as he poured coffee into a cup. “Only last night, when you were grabbing it while you screamed my name.”

“My. Someone woke up on the cocky side of the bed this morning.” I was tempted to check my phone for the time, but that would have meant looking away. The time could wait; a naked Jude making coffee couldn’t.

“I wake up on that side of the bed every morning, Luce,” he said, turning around.

Like the bad girl I was, my eyes zeroed in on a certain spot. “Yes, you most certainly do.” My smile could not possibly stretch further without hurting.

“Good morning,” he said, holding out the cup of coffee while I continued with my staring contest.

“Yes, it is,” I replied, sitting up.

“Okay, Luce, you gotta stop looking at me like that or else I’m going to be late to practice.” He waited until my gaze shifted to his before he handed me the coffee. That was probably for the best. Gawking women and steaming cups of liquid don’t go together well.

“If you don’t want me looking at you like that, you should have put some clothes on.” I raised an eyebrow at him as I took a sip. “Thanks for the coffee. Very domestic of you.”

Snatching his discarded boxers from last night, he hiked them into position before scooting next to me. “I like waiting on you hand and foot,” he said, his eyes traveling down my body. “And everywhere in between.”

I sighed into my cup. “Here’s a pointer. If you don’t want to be late to practice, you shouldn’t say those kinds of things either.”

His eyes cleared and returned to mine almost immediately. How he could go from dripping sex one moment to all business the next, I didn’t know, but it was something that I doubted I’d ever be able to master. “You didn’t exactly give me a chance to tell you last night, since you were busy ravaging me on that table that has now officially become my favorite piece of furniture”—he studied the table as a slow smile formed—“but I’m sorry for everything yesterday, Luce. I wanted the whole day to be perfect and it couldn’t have gone more wrong.”

No, it couldn’t have. Well, at least up until the night.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, too,” I said, so familiar with the words I could have been a certified expert by now. In the history of our relationship, “I’m sorry,” “Forgive me,” and “I messed up” came almost as frequently as “I love you.”

“If you don’t like the house, that’s fine. We’ll find another one,” he said, draping an arm over my shoulders. “I want you to be happy, Luce, and I never would have picked this place out if I thought it was going to upset you.”

I sighed in relief. Yesterday we’d battled this conversation out. Today we could talk about it calmly and constructively. Maybe this was how we needed to approach these kinds of land mines in the future: naked and in bed.

“I know that, Jude. It just took me by surprise. Everything’s coming at me so fast, and sometimes I feel like I don’t have a chance to catch my breath.” I paused to take another drink. “You know?”

“Believe me, I know,” he replied with a nod. “You don’t need to explain it to me, Luce. I get it, and I’m sorry I made this whole thing harder on you. I’ll call my real estate agent this afternoon and have him start looking for a different place. Okay?” He pulled me closer, tucking my head beneath his jaw.