Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
And again.
And again.
By the fifth time, Jude slams his fist into the wood on a curse and surfaces, looking dazed, his lips swollen and wet. “Who the fuck is that?” he grumbles, leaving me on the counter and adjusting himself as he dips into his back pocket. Breathless, I peel myself up from the counter, feeling a little dizzy. And pissy.
I brush my hair off my damp cheeks, trying to catch some air and at the same time curb the powerful throb between my thighs.
“What?” Jude answers, clipped. Then he frowns. And when he looks at me, I one hundred percent do not like his frown. “Yeah, thanks for letting me know.”
“What is it?” I ask when he’s hung up, spinning his mobile in his grasp, thoughtful. “Jude?”
“It was the kitchen.” He starts walking up and down. “There are no nuts in the Eton Mess.”
“Huh?”
He stops and looks at me. “What else did you eat that evening?”
I try to cast my mind back, scratching through my mind for the answer he wants. “Nothing. I only had a few bites of the Eton Mess.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” He places his phone down. “Your food got contaminated, and that’s not acceptable.”
“Oh,” I whisper, watching Jude fall into thought. “So what are you going to do?”
“Take everything off the menu that contains nuts.”
I laugh. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” He crowds me, popping a kiss on the end of my nose. “Arlington Hall is now a nut-free zone.”
My fingers claw into his arse and pull him closer between my thighs. “What are you doing here, then?”
“Ha. Ha.” Rolling his mouth onto mine, he kisses me back down to the counter and slips his touch through my wetness. “Hmmm,” he hums, pushing his fingers into me.
I moan in answer, tightening every muscle, drawing him deeper.
Ring, ring, ring.
“Ignore it,” he says, as my mobile yells from my bag by the door.
“I had every intention of ignoring it.” My arms slip onto the back of his head as his mouth drifts south.
Ring, ring, ring.
He removes his fingers and replaces them with his mouth. “Oh God.” My back bows, and my eyes fall to the mirrored fridge doors. I can see his head buried between my bent legs.
Ring, ring, ring.
I hum, purr, writhe, savouring his hot, wet tongue slipping easily through me, hearing him undo the fly of his jeans. “I want you.” I grab his hair and pull his face up. “I want you now.” My insides are screaming for him to sate the burn building.
“How badly?” he whispers, placing a hand on my chest and dragging it down my body, his eyes following as he frees his raging erection.
“So badly.”
Ring, ring, ring.
“Fuck!” he hisses, gazing up at me with a look somewhere between frustration and desire. “Who the hell is that?”
“Ignore it.” I grab him and haul him down onto my mouth, shifting my hips to help him fall into place between my legs.
Ring, ring, ring.
“Jesus Christ.” He pushes himself up and gasps for air, looking around the room. “Where the fuck is your phone?”
Wilting in disappointment, I throw my arms over my head. “In my bag by the door.”
Jude stalks off, pulling his jeans up over his arse as he goes.
“It’s your mum,” he says when he’s back, holding up my phone. “Ten missed calls.”
My wanton state is forgotten in a heartbeat, my heart racing for an entirely different reason. I feel like the blood has just drained out of my face, and Jude suddenly looks as anxious as I feel. Bringing my phone to me, he stands between my open legs, as if worried I might fall off the counter. I try to dial Mum back, but my hands are shaking too badly, adrenaline of the unknown ruling me. She calls again before I manage to convince my fingers to work.
“Mum?” I say, my voice audibly shaky. Jude rests his hands on my bare thighs and starts to stroke, waiting. Patient.
“I don’t want you to be upset, Amelia,” she says.
Of course that has the reverse effect. “Why would I be upset?” I ask, my eyes on Jude’s as he waits.
“It’s your father.”
My heart beats double time. “Oh my God, what’s happened?” My throat is suddenly tight, forcing me to reach for it.
“He wanted to go for a drive, you see.”
All kinds of scenarios run rampant through my head, and my eyes start to well with building tears. “Mum, please, tell me what’s happened to him.”
“Nothing’s happened to him, darling.”
“What?”
Jude frowns, withdrawing, his hands slowing in their strokes across my thighs.
“Your father’s fine. Oh dear, I realise how that all sounded now.”
I exhale in a rush of urgent breath, and Jude visibly relaxes too, shaking his head in exasperation. “Mum, you had me so worried.”
“Oh, silly me.”
“So why would I be upset if Dad went for a drive?”