10. Jude
Thursday, October 19th
It’s 7:00 p.m. and I’ve got everything packed, ready to go.
In an hour, I’ll be picking up Lucienne for our date. I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to a first date this much, which also means I’m pacing around my apartment, trying to shake off the nerves.
I didn’t plan on pinning her against the wall and licking into that beautiful fucking mouth in an empty conference room.
But here we are.
Her whole body molded perfectly to mine, melting at my touch. Those noises, those sweet little fucking noises. I could listen to those whimpers and moans on a loop until the end of time. I need to draw those out of her again whenever I get the opportunity.
Maybe tonight, if I’ve earned it.
If we hadn’t been in the office, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. Kissing her was like touching a live wire; my mouth was locked to hers, my hands uncontrollably searching for the heat of her skin. I felt her nipples tighten against my chest and I almost came right then and there, which would have been extremely inconvenient. The rolling of my hips was involuntary at one point. I couldn’t peel myself away.
It felt like the right time, as if a moment like that is something we would never find again. And she felt it too. She drew me in and we collided with warm, hot breath.
She let me see past the toughness, the armor she wears to keep everyone at bay. Instead of lashing out, she decided to be vulnerable, to be open. One thing I know about Lucienne Amato is that when her guard is down, you need to prove to her she’s safe. That way she can do it again and, slowly, she will let you in.
I see when her walls go up and I don’t care that I need to break them down sometimes because the reward is watching her reclaim her worth.
I’ve been given the privilege to do this more than once and tonight it feels like my chance to break through, completely.
Planning a date that is worthy of Lucienne’s time is something I take very seriously. Her love of all things Halloween and scary movies gave me the idea to take her to Winooski, the next city over, to see Hocus Pocus in the park. This is the last showing before Halloween, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect.
I’ve got a blanket packed, a pillow or two, some extra hats and gloves, and three packs of Swedish Fish. When she told me that was her favorite candy, I didn’t need to run out and buy any because I had a cabinet full at my apartment. That’s my favorite candy too and I’ve always got a stash nearby this time of year.
Moonlight is sparkling on the lake’s surface, small ripples cresting in the crisp evening breeze. I hop into my car and stow some Swedish Fish into the center console cup holders. I smile, hoping Lucienne will find it within seconds of sliding into the passenger seat.
Finding small ways to make her feel cared for is becoming my favorite pastime.
When I pull up to her house, she’s standing on the front stoop. She’s wearing black leggings and an oversized purple sweatshirt with the words I Put a Spell on You in gold calligraphy. Her hair is loosely secured on the top of her head, those curls dancing in the breeze. She excitedly waves at me as I close my door behind me.
Damn straight I intend to walk her to the car and open her door.
“Hey, you,” she says with a smile.
“Hi, beautiful.”
Before I reach the top step, she leans forward and throws her arms around my neck and presses her lips to mine. My surprise doesn’t last long and I pick her up, her legs wrapping around my waist and sitting on my hips. She tastes like apple pie and cinnamon, and I drag my tongue behind her teeth.
Everything about this woman should be savored.
A hum vibrates against my chest as she brings her hands to my face, pulling me into a deeper kiss that makes my legs weak. Her breath fills my lungs, and I don’t think I want to breathe air again.
“Where are you taking me for our date tonight?” she asks, her eyes shimmering.
She’s so beautiful. How anyone walks by her without taking notice is beyond me.
I tighten my grip on her ass and a smile spreads across her face. I’m more than tempted to carry her back upstairs and make her come so hard, she can’t see straight.
Treat her the way she deserves to be treated.
Earn it, Jude.
“Before we go, are you going to be warm enough in these leggings?”
“They’re fleece-lined. I’ll be fine.”
She traces a line from my brow down to my mouth and smiles. She just smiles, and smiles, and smiles. I’d wondered what that looked like for what feels like too long. Now here it is, just for me. My chest aches, looking at her like this.
“Good. Then we can go. I hope you like Hocus Pocus because we’re going to see it in the park.”
Lucienne gasps and hugs me tight, almost knocking me down the steps.
“I take it this was a good idea,” I laugh.
“Did you not read my sweatshirt?!”
She leans back and pulls the front of her sweatshirt taut for me to read.
“I don’t get it.”
“Oh my God, Jude! This is from Hocus Pocus! I’m more than ready now!”
This is off to the best start possible.
“Should I carry you to the car or would you prefer to walk?” I laugh.
“How chivalrous of you, but I think I’ll walk.”
I let her down and open the door for her before returning to the driver’s seat. This is so different from the last time we were in my car and I reach over, resting my palm on her thigh.
Leaves swirl around us as we make our way onto the highway, the headlights illuminating their colors even in the dark. She puts her hand on mine and squeezes and I swear we both feel her thigh flex in response. I cough into my hand and, out of the corner of her eye, see her biting her lip.
“Let me guess: You’ve never seen Hocus Pocus,” she teases.
“Hope it doesn’t ruin the date, but I haven’t. It’s a night of firsts for me.”
“It’s a classic, Jude. Thank God that’s being remedied tonight. Colette and I have a Halloween movie night every year and Hocus Pocus is the one movie on both of our lists. It’s not Halloween without it, especially in New England,” she explains.
“Have you already watched it this year? We don’t need to sit through it if you have—”
She gasps. “Are these Swedish Fish?”
She grabs the yellow and red package, bringing it into the light from the streetlamps.
“Yes. They’re your favorite and, I mean it, they happen to be my favorite too. I don’t want to have to fight you over them, but I’ll do what must be done,” I warn.
Without batting an eye, she rips open the package and pops one in her mouth.
Oh, I can’t wait to have the taste of her on my tongue again now.
“And no, we’re absholutely washing dis movie tonight.”
“Take it easy, beautiful. There’s plenty to go around,” I laugh, stealing a fish for myself.
We park nearby, only about a two-minute walk from the park. Lucienne has intertwined our fingers as we walk across the grass. I love the feeling of her hand in mine.
Such a small point of contact, but it fills me with so much joy.
This movie on the lawn is a great event. There is a stand with hot apple cider and popcorn in between the trees, opening up to the clearing where a giant outside screen has been erected. The crowd is big, everyone spreading their blankets or unfolding lawn chairs. Children run around with glowsticks in their Halloween costumes.
I lead us to an empty patch of grass and spread out the blanket. Lucienne sits with her legs crossed, nuzzling into her sweatshirt. I want to scoop her up into my lap and bury my face in her neck. Instead, I grab us some hot apple cider and sit beside her.
“So, if you haven’t seen Hocus Pocus, what is your favorite Halloween movie? Everyone has one.” She sips her cider excitedly, gripping it with both hands. It’s so fucking cute.
“I’d have to go with The Nightmare Before Christmas.”
She arches her eyebrow. “A valid pick, even with Christmas in the title. Do you watch it on Halloween and Christmas then?”
“No, just Halloween. Too dark for Christmas. Now, here’s the real question…”
Lucienne shimmies closer to me, our knees touching. I place a hand on her knee, and she quickly covers my hand with her own.
“I’m waiting. I”ve got an answer.”
“Is Die Hard a Christmas movie?” I ask, narrowing my eyes curiously.
She throws herself backward, almost spilling her cider. “Jude Carr, this could make or break the whole night. What a bold question.”
I choke on a laugh. “Come on. It’s a Christmas movie!”
“Oh, thank God. Night salvaged. That was a close call.”
Lucienne laughs and mouths the words throughout the movie. It is the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen. She even dances during the musical number of “I Put a Spell on You,” which now makes much more sense to me.
This is Lucienne unapologetically happy.
It may be from the 1990s, but the movie holds up. I’m partial to Winifred Sanderson, but Lucienne loves Mary. Watching her doubled over in laughter as Mary watched commercials in the Devil’s house was a gift. I found myself laughing along with her.
When it concludes, it looks like half the crowd has already gone, probably everyone with small children. We take our time, laughing and talking, holding hands and sneaking in kisses.
When we finally decide to call it a night, Lucienne and I ditch our empty cups and wrap up my blanket. As we pass through a thick patch of trees, we’re cast in complete darkness.
Her hand is in mine and I tug her with just enough force into the cover of a huge maple tree, dropping my blanket at our feet. Tucked against the tree trunk, we wait for the last few people to leave the park. Her back is against the cool bark, one of my arms caging her in and the other grabbing her chin to lift her head.
“Are you bewitched, Jude? Did the magic of Hocus Pocus get to you?” she whispers.
Holy fuck.
“That depends. Is that what you’re doing? Bewitching me?”
Her cold hands slip under my flannel and I hiss in response. She teases me, dragging a finger under the waistband of my boxers. I can feel goose bumps all over my body.
“Maybe it is,” she teases.
“Then maybe I am.”
I inhale and kiss her hungrily, tasting the sugar on her tongue. The groan that comes out of me is primal and I lean down to grab the back of her thigh, hoisting it up and around my hip.
She rolls her hips, creating just enough friction to make me gasp into her mouth. Her chest is heaving, and she nips at my bottom lip.
“Put your hands on my shoulders, beautiful,” I pant.
“What’re you doing?” she gasps.
Even as she asks that question, she does as I instruct and I hook my thumbs into the waistband of her leggings, giving them a playful tug. She licks into my mouth, whimpering and panting, like she’s not able to catch her breath.
Fuck, she’s perfect just like this.
“Jude, what’re you doing?” she asks again.
She reaches between us and grabs my dick, working me over my jeans. My vision blurs and my breath catches, but I gently cradle the side of her neck and lick from her ear down the column of her throat. Her leg holds me to her; she’s rolling her hips in an established rhythm now.
“I want to know what you taste like, Lucienne. Can I go down on you?”
I’m begging. I’m desperate to lick between her thighs. Having her come all over my mouth out here in the cover of trees in late October. I can’t imagine anything sweeter.
“Please.”
She’s pleading and trying to pull my hair free from its bun.
Fuck, this woman will be the death of me.
“Lucienne, are you begging?”
Teasing her, I reach under her sweatshirt and push her bra aside, cupping her breast. I roll a nipple between my forefinger and thumb. The noise she makes tops anything I’ve elicited from her thus far.
“I’m begging,” she pants.
My control is gone and before she can even breathe another word, I yank her leggings to her ankles, freeing one of her feet. A brown boot hits the ground with a thud.
I sink to my knees in the grass and toss her free leg over my shoulder, grabbing her ass in my hands.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me, beautiful?” I whisper, dragging my tongue along her inner thigh. Her hands dive into my hair, her nails scraping my scalp and pulling my head toward her.
“Yes. Please, yes.”
“You’re begging again.”
“Jude, please.”
“You don’t need to beg, beautiful. I’d get down on my knees for you any day.”
I put my mouth on her. She’s already dripping for me, and I lap her up. Her moan almost throws me over the edge. She’s so sweet, just like I imagined.
I make quick work of finding her clit and sucking on it, her breath hitching as she pulls my hair tight in her fists. I flick my tongue between her folds, creating a rhythm that causes her to ride my mouth.
My nails dig into her ass, guiding her to me, holding her just where I need her. She’s taking deep heaving breaths and I feel sweat beading down the small of her back.
“I’m gonna come. Jude.”
Not yet she’s not.
I kiss her thighs and knead her ass as her grip on my hair loosens.
“Why’re you stopping?” she whines.
I stand up and tangle my fingers into the hair at the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to mine. I want her to know what she tastes like, and she takes it, sucking on my bottom lip and hooking her foot behind my calf.
“You taste so fucking good, don’t you?” I choke.
She nods frantically as her hands reach for my zipper. I stop her, pulling her arms above her head and pinning them to the tree. She pouts, frowning at me in the moonlight spilling through the treetops.
“Please, Jude, what are you—”
Before she can finish her question, I find that bud with my fingers and start making small circles. She’s so wet from her own pleasure and my mouth. I lock eyes with her, her lips parted and jaw quivering.
“Don’t beg. A woman like you doesn’t beg. I need to earn it.”
My heart is hammering in my chest as she starts to move against my fingers. I hold them steady, letting her rock back and forth, chasing her pleasure as it builds. I let go of her wrists.
“Keep your arms up.”
In complete desperation, I pull her sweatshirt over her head.
“Are you cold? Tell me if you are.”
“I’m on fire.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Her breasts are perfectly round and supple. I’m in pain as my dick throbs repeatedly. I grit my teeth.
This is about her, not me.
I’m going to show her that my pleasure is her pleasure.
I pin her wrists above her head again and lower her bra with my teeth, just enough to catch one of her nipples in my mouth. She continues to rock her hips, more desperately, against my fingers.
Her next moan is so loud, it echoes through the trees.
“Go on, beautiful. You’re doing so fucking good. Make me earn it.”
I flick her nipple with my tongue, holding my fingers steady for her.
“Oh, shit.”
“I know, beautiful. You’re fucking amazing. Listen to how sweet you sound.”
“Jude, I’m—I’m gonna come—”
“Come for me, Lucienne.”
Her orgasm is seismic, leaving her bucking over my hand, her breasts pressing against my face. She screams, her arms straining against my grip. The crickets are chirping around us, but it’s drowned out by our erratic breathing. Her eyes glaze over as she watches me dress her, planting kisses anywhere I can as I go.
We’re both spent but we reach for each other instinctually. I tuck her head under my chin, our arms around one another. I bury my face in her curls, breathing her in.
I could stay here, with her, indefinitely.
Her eyes are glossy and her smile is soft as she looks up at me.
“That was magic,” she breathes.
“Of course it was. That’s what you are, Lucienne.”