Page 100 of Wanted

“I need your fingers. Your thumb.”

I pant against his mouth as he brushes against my clit, dragging the wetness from where we’re joined over the top of it. His fingers span my thigh, anchoring us together, while his thumb strums right where I need him.

“Ohhh. Jude!” I shudder, my legs spasming against his thighs as he swallows my cries.

“That’s it. Right there. Don’t stop riding me.”

I scream into his mouth as my orgasm hits, wringing the tension from my muscles. I sag against him, resting against his chest, but keep moving my hips as the aftershocks spark through me.

“I’m going to come,” Jude grunts, yanking me down flush as his cock throbs deep inside. A guttural groan vibrates his chest against my cheek.

“Holy crap. That was…” I pause to catch my breath.

“You’re so beautiful.” Jude brushes the wayward strands from my cheek. “As long as I have you, I’ll never need to see another sunset. I’ll never need to stand on my front porch and gaze up at the breathtaking night sky.”

The air gets trapped in my lungs, and a lump rises in my throat. “Jude…”

“I just wanted you to know that.”

“Jude.” I try again, failing to find the words.

“Roll off me so I can clean you,” he says gently and tilts us to our sides.

As he leaves the bed, I watch his glutes flex, those powerful legs taking him from the room.

Finally, the words come to me, alone lying in bed after the most intimate experience of my life as the mess we made leaks from between my thighs.

I’m falling in love with him.

And I think he might have been trying to say he’s falling in love with me too.

25

Frankie

With my phone clamped tight in my fist, I race down the stairs in search of Jude. He’s been outside hosing off kennels from the adoption event last weekend, a task he indefinitely delayed in favor of keeping me in his bed. Lee may technically be his boss, but Jude sets his own hours. With the part-time staff available and a handful of willing siblings, he was able to shirk his duties for a couple of days of bliss.

Unfortunately, those days ended this morning bright and early.

Jude received a call just after the crack of dawn about a hoarding situation about an hour away. The sheriff needs his help removing the dogs safely from the owner’s property. The years of neglect have made them fearful, aggressive, and difficult to handle. Being in such a rural area, they don’t have a designated animal control big enough to handle cases like this, but over the years, the Powell Sanctuary has offered its expertise when there’s a crisis. Jude needs these kennels clean to transport all the dogs in his van.

Jude hung up the phone, grumbled something about reality, squeezed my ass, kissed me hard, and lumbered out of bed.

My stomach flips happily at the memory.

“Jude!” I spot him across the green grass near the intake building, spraying the last of the eight kennels. The others dry in the sun, the black metal bars glinting beneath the rays. Dodging sticks and rocks as best as I can, I skip across the lawn.

His head snaps up. The hose falls beside him, forgotten as he tracks me. Those scrutinizing silver eyes narrow as I near.

“Baby, where are your shoes?”

“I got a call. I got a commission.”

“Slow down.” He grips my hips, pulling me to a halt in front of him.

“Someone passed on my info from the adoption event, and I got a call to create a custom canvas.”

Jude’s lips curve slowly into a sensual smile. “Congratulations. We’ll have to celebrate when I get back.”

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