Singe (Guardian Protection #1)

“Yes,” I hissed, folding my arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.

His tongue touched just below my collarbone, sweeping out for a taste before his voice transformed into a deep, rasping whisper. “You like to be on top, but you come harder when I’m fucking you. You could kiss for days and never get tired of it. You whisper my name when you sleep. And, every single time I do something nice, you breathe that I’m real. And, Butterfly, it’s been months. I’ve touched every inch of your body with every inch of mine, yet I still feel like I have to beg, barter, and steal to get any kind of real information about you.”

“So it is about Brianna?” I huffed.

“This is about me not knowing you,” he replied at the same time the tip of his length pressed inside me, stealing the breath from my lungs—right along with my desire to have any further discussion.

That is until he stopped. Completely. Only the tiniest inch of him was nestled inside me as my body ached to be filled.

“Jude, please,” I begged, writhing beneath him.

He dipped his head to the side and nipped at my ear. “Found your birth control tonight while I was digging for floss in the bathroom.”

“And?” I drawled, rolling my hips in a failed attempt to take him deeper.

“And I realize I’ve gone through enough condoms over the last few weeks to justify buying stock, but, baby, I am not thrilled about a rubber being between us.”

Nipping at his lips, I squirmed, opening my legs wider. “Okay. Maybe we should remedy this now, then?”

Somehow, he magically managed to stay just out of my reach.

“How long you been on the pill?”

“Jude, come on. I want to feel you.”

He roughly raked his teeth over my shoulder. “How long?”

“Six weeks.”

He froze. “And I’m finding out now?”

“Jude,” I objected as he suddenly pushed off of me.

Flipping to his back, he let out a curse. “Jesus Christ.”

I slung my leg over his hips, but with a hand at my thigh, he prevented me from climbing on top.

I glared at him. “You’re pissed that I’m on birth control?”

“I’m pissed that I’m just finding out about it,” he clipped. “For fuck’s sake, Rhion, I feel like I don’t know dick about you. Sure. Over the last few weeks, I’ve learned things. But I’m far from knowing you, and I’m starting to feel like you are never going to let me in.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you know me,” I argued.

“No. I know the pieces you’ve given me. Beautiful pieces. Pieces I fucking love. But, if you want to take this relationship to the next level, I need more than that.”

My heart stopped and my nose started stinging as I squeaked. “Pieces you love?”

Had he not just halfway told me that he loved me, I would have laughed at the sight of tough guy Jude Levitt rolling his eyes. But, because he had just halfway told me that he loved me, I couldn’t focus on his impression of a sullen teenager.

He cupped the back of my neck and pulled me down to kiss my forehead. “You know I love you, but you gotta let me in.”

Twisting my lips, I leaned away and frowned. “That has got to be the worst ‘I love you’ in the history of romance.”

His eyebrows popped up. “This isn’t romance, Rhion. This is real life.”

“The two things are not mutually exclusive. Take it back and I’ll give you a do-over later.”

“I’m not taking shit back. I love you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I fucking do.”

“Well, I don’t accept. You weren’t even smiling.”

All at once, he knifed up off the bed. His upper body crushed me as he landed on top of me. He dipped low so his face was close with mine. “Love rarely makes a man smile. Especially if said man is me and he has to deal with a crazy woman like you. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t burn the world down for you. Extinguish an entire species. And then place their ashes at your feet if it meant you’d smile. But I probably won’t be grinning while I do it.”

Oh. My. God.

He’d said that.

To me.

“Jude,” I breathed, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “That was much better, by the way.”

“I’m glad you approve. But, regardless of how I say it, you know I love you. But swear to God, baby, I’m losing my mind trying to figure you out.”

I sniffled to keep the tears from spilling over. “What do you want to know?”

He tucked my hair behind my ear, allowing his fingers to linger at my cheek as he stared deep into my eyes and whispered, “Everything. But, more than that, I want you to give it to me because you trust me. I could ask you all the questions in the world, but it’s what you choose to give me on your own that I want the most.”

It wasn’t like I was hiding stuff from him. It’s just that we’d only been together for a few months. While I wasn’t sleeping with Johnson or Brianna, I’d been friends with them for years and was still learning new things every day.

“I’m twenty-six,” I announced.

“Know that, Butterfly.”

“Okay, well. It’s impossible for me to share twenty-six years’ worth of experiences with you in one night. Or even a few months. And, besides, not everything is meant to be heard. Some things are meant to be experienced. Like when I finally get to show you and Val my beach house in LA, where I used to make sand castles with my mom before she died.”

His face softened. “Right. I get that. But you’ve never even told me how she died. Or how that affected you.”

I screwed my eyes shut as my throat became thick with emotion. “You have my file.”

He placed an encouraging kiss to my lips. “Fuck your file, Rhion. I learned my lesson about trusting that thing when Brianna Talbot walked into your apartment.” Shifting beside me, he threaded his hand into my hair and stroked my temple with his thumb. “Tell me.”

“She fell off the balcony of my dad’s New York apartment,” I rushed out. “We think it was an accident. But I guess we’ll never know.”

I might have been a kid when it’d happened, but the pain of losing her was still as prominent as ever. Death, at six, was a very abstract idea. I distinctly remember the day of her funeral. My father had told me that morning that we were going to say goodbye to my mother. So I sat in my distraught father’s lap and stared at the doors to the church, waiting for her to show up. I was heartbroken as we drove away, because in my naivety, she hadn’t shown and I’d never gotten to say goodbye.

“And…” he prompted.

“And…you know the rest.”

“Please,” he whispered.

Swallowing hard, I relented. “She’d taken a lot of pills. Chased them with martinis. Dad and I were at ballet practice. Apollo was there when it happened. He was only four though. I’ll never forget the sound of my father yelling when the police came into the dance studio to tell him. I quit ballet the next day and never went back.”

I hadn’t realized that the tears had escaped before I felt the moisture sliding down my face.