He didn’t budge, but his glare turned worrisome. He leaned into the stairwell and lifted his gaze to the top.
Rising to my feet, I shoved at his shoulder and shot him a pair of impatient eyes. “Seriously, go!” I screamed without making a sound.
He knowingly shook his head but finally gave in and backed out.
Relieved, I caught the door so it didn’t slam and quietly guided it shut, and then I promptly went back to creeping.
“Swear to God, woman,” Jude rumbled. “Do you get alerts any time money lands in my bank account, or is it a natural talent?”
Pause.
Pause.
Huff.
“Yeah. Fine. Okay. I’ll pay. Send me the receipts and new itinerary.”
I couldn’t see him, but I assumed he’d ended the call because I heard a loud bang on the metal door as though he’d hit it and a roared, “Fuck!”
I jumped and stifled a squeak.
And then I jumped again, completely unable to stifle the squeak when I heard him ask, “What did you mean when you said, ‘It’s just Jude’?”
Uh oh.
Maybe he was still on the phone.
Please, God, let him still be on the phone.
“Rhion,” he called.
I saw his feet start down the stairs.
Holy fillet of fuck. I scrambled toward the door, but I wasn’t fast enough for a pissed-off Jude Levitt, because no sooner than I’d pulled the door open, his hand went over my head and slammed it back shut.
Closing my eyes, I cursed under my breath. I was trapped, his tall body looming over me, the heat radiating off him sending a chill down my spine.
“It’s rude to eavesdrop,” he whispered.
My shiver intensified when I felt his warm breath at the top of my head.
I didn’t reply and instead scooted until my front was flush with the door. Unfortunately—er…I mean, fortunately—he didn’t follow me forward.
“What did you mean when you said, ‘It’s just Jude’?” he prompted.
It had always been just Jude.
Including when he’d unknowingly broken my heart on Saturday morning.
I kept my lips sealed and pushed off the metal door for fear he’d hear the drumming of my heart against it.
He kept me caged in. “So, we went from paragraphs to silence?” he murmured in that voice that held equal amounts of playfulness and raw sex.
It was the same one he’d used in my pantry when he’d asked me to forgive him, seconds before our mouths had crashed together.
The same one that, right then, forced the breathy, “Jude,” from my lips before I could stop it. Drunkenly, I swayed into him, his firm chest pressing against my back.
He lowered his head, the scruff of his jaw raking against my temple as he murmured, “It seems you’re shit at answering my questions, Rhion.”
I was shit at damn near everything with him that close to me. And that included forming full thoughts or complete sentences.
His hand lowered to my hip, where he gave me a squeeze before rocking me back against his hips.
Oh. My. God.
I’d tagged Rhion the moment she’d entered the stairwell. April was spewing an ungodly amount of bullshit in my ear, but as soon I leaned over the railing and spotted the red tips of her hair, I tuned April out.
Rhion was wearing a ridiculous pink bubble coat that made her look more like a teenager than twenty-six. But, thanks to my good friend Jack Daniel’s, I knew she was all woman underneath that silly jacket.
Flashes of Friday night assaulted me.
Her skilled tongue gliding with mine.
Her soft breasts pressed against my chest.
Her round ass filling my palms as I ground her against my cock.
And then, as I watched her bury her face in her hands and sink down to the step, I was assaulted by an onslaught of different memories.
Her pained jerk when I told her I didn’t remember.
The agony carved in her face when I told Devon that she’d ruined my life.
Her hollow eyes as she told me that her version of me was better. I still didn’t know what she’d meant by that. But it gutted me all the same.
As I stood there, staring down at her, debating if I should make my presence known or duck out into the breezeway and let her be, I heard her whisper, “It’s just Jude.”
The sound of my name rolling off her tongue hit my system like a lit match.
All week, she’d been on my mind. Rhion was in my head, under my skin, and—scariest of all—in my dreams. Not nightmares. Dreams.
Each morning when I’d climbed on that elevator, I’d stared at the button for the third floor, itching to press it. But I’d forced myself to stay away. I’d fucked up. And, in the process, hurt her. Again.
It was the story of my life when it came to Rhion.
If I’d been any kind of man at all, I’d have left her alone in that stairwell.
But, even after acknowledging that, I started down the stairs, heading straight for her when April’s voice in my ear had pulled me up short. She was taking Val out of school for a few days in order to take a last-minute trip to New York with Kevin. This meant Val wouldn’t be able to miss more school the following weekend when I’d planned to fly out for a four-day weekend. I had a sneaking suspicion this was done on purpose, considering I was now paying for April and Val’s flight with a layover in Chicago so she could drop her off with me.
I was fully aware that Rhion was listening to my conversation. After I’d made a royal ass out of myself in front of her, I was just happy she was still interested in me enough to care what I was talking about.
Rhion’s whispered, “It’s just Jude,” rang in my ears as I hurried April off the phone. I didn’t have a grand to spend on plane tickets. And, honestly, that weekend was inconvenient as hell, considering I was scheduled to work on Saturday. But, if it got me Val and off the phone with April so I could try to have a civil conversation with Rhion, it would be well worth it.
Only the moment I’d reached her and her back had pressed against my chest, a conversation with her was the last thing on my mind. And, when her ass in those tight jeans had become flush with my zipper, there had been nothing civil about what I wanted to do with her anymore.
“Can we talk?” I asked. Dropping my forearm to the door, I bent lower and dipped my mouth to her ear. “Please.”
“Jude,” she breathed.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, as if I could absorb the sound. Fuck. That felt almost as good as her body tucked against mine.
“All I need is five minutes, Rhion.”
“Can we do it without me pinned to a door?” she asked, but there was no attitude behind it.
I smiled because she wasn’t pinned to a door. She was pinned to me, and as she asked the question, she’d shifted closer.
“All you gotta do is ask me to move, sweetheart,” I rasped.
Her breathing sped as she seemingly weighed her options. After a few seconds, she whispered, “Just talk.”
My grin widened. She couldn’t deny the magnetism between us any more than I could.
“I was a dick,” I stated.
Her shoulders sagged as she blew a relieved sigh out. “You really were.”
“I’m sorry. I never should have shown up at your apartment, drunk like that.”
Singe (Guardian Protection #1)
Aly Martinez's books
- Among the Echoes
- The Fall Up
- Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)
- Retrieval (The Retrieval Duet #1)
- Transfer (The Retrieval Duet #2)
- The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)
- Broken Course (Wrecked and Ruined #3)
- Changing Course (Wrecked and Ruined #1)
- Fighting Shadows (On the Ropes #2)
- Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)
- Savor Me
- Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)