Chapter Thirteen
Judah: This is explicitly a booty call, by the way.
Ari: Does this mean no fancy dinner?
Judah: Well, I can’t speak for you, but I plan to eat very well.
Ari nearly choked on her own tongue. How was it that Judah was still managing to surprise her? Worse, how was he still setting her panties on fire day after day? The night before had involved his dining room table, a can of whipped cream, and hickeys in places she hadn’t even known were possible.
Judah Klein was going to be the death of her.
Ari: Filthy boy.
Ari: I’ll be there.
“Now what has got that smile on your face?” Naima asked. “That is a devious smile.”
Ari turned the phone over on the desk as her cheeks ignited. “It’s nothing.”
“That is not nothing.” Naima lowered her laptop screen so she could fix dark, knowing eyes on Ari. “That is the smile of someone who is talking to someone she likes, which, by the way, is something I have not seen on your face in three years of working together.”
“I don’t ‘like’ him,” Ari clarified, wishing someone would turn up the A/C in the coworking space. “We’re just having fun, and he is … very good at fun.”
“Ah, so that’s the ‘I’m getting laid’ face. I suppose those do look somewhat similar. Clearly, I’m an out-of-practice old lady.”
“Super ancient,” Ari confirmed with a grin. “Or maybe it’s because you and Jackie have been together since you were literally five.”
“You know it sounds extremely weird when you put it that way,” Naima said, even though it was technically true—she and her childhood best friend realized somewhere in their teens that their friendship had become something else, started dating in secret their freshman year of high school, and had been together ever since.
It was the stuff of legends, but it was also why Naima always took particular interest in Ari and James’s love lives—her own hadn’t had many new developments in …
ever. “So how long has this been going on?”
“Like five minutes,” Ari said with a snort, even though it somehow felt much longer.
She didn’t know whether it was because those initial kisses were months ago or because she and Judah had gone all in shockingly quickly, but this was not what it had been like three days into hooking up with Danny, or Jared before him, or Simon before him.
The tiniest part of her wished she could blow her friends’ minds with the fact of who she was hooking up with, but besides the part about betraying Judah’s confidence, she’d never hear the end of those questions.
“And it’s just this week. After that, we’re both going out of town. ”
“Oh, right—we’re on our own next week,” James said as he slurped his boba. “This is the holiday where you can’t drink coffee or eat, like, anything, right?”
“We can drink coffee and eat stuff,” she corrected.
“It just has to be certain coffee and certain stuff, because we don’t eat wheat, barley, oats, spelt, or rye.
Plus, because I’m Ashkenazi—Eastern European—there’s even more stuff I can’t eat, called kitniyot, which, among other things, takes flavored coffee and anything with corn syrup off the table.
Basically, I eat a lot of chocolate and potato chips.
Melting chocolate into my coffee is actually my trick for making it not disgusting. ”
“Okay, that’s kind of brilliant,” said Naima, “but it still sounds like a nightmare holiday.”
Ari didn’t totally disagree, though not because of the food.
She’d loved it when she was little, before her dad passed away; it was his favorite holiday, and their Seder was always full of his exuberant songs and silly jokes.
He would always make her and her sisters laugh as he pretended to search for the afikomen in the strangest of places, as if they would’ve hidden a pouch of matzo atop the tallest bookshelves or inside the toilet tank.
For a year or two afterward, they did Seders with Aleah’s family, and though they were always tinged with the sadness of her father’s absence, there was still fun to be had with her favorite cousins.
But then Aunt Steph declared they were going down to Florida for a Pesach program, and the Beckers couldn’t afford to join, and that was that.
Ari’s mom hated to cook, so their Seders had simply become the four of them eating takeout packages, their father’s absence still looming large all these years later.
Even that had been okay—she did (mostly) enjoy her mom and sisters—but this year, Dana’s loathsome boyfriend, Evan, was joining them, and it was guaranteed to be a nightmare.
Judah, meanwhile, would be living in the lap of luxury at the fanciest Pesach program in Mexico, eating meticulously rolled quinoa sushi and thirty-seven kinds of short ribs.
Sure, she no longer thought he was an asshole, but it was still incredibly annoying to imagine him stretching out on a king-size bed in a gorgeous hotel room he had all to himself while she was stuck at home in the faded sage-green sheets of her old twin bed.
Or maybe he won’t be all by himself … The thought nagged at her before she brushed it aside.
It didn’t matter what Judah got up to after this week because they’d no longer have anything to do with each other.
If he wanted to set the beast she’d unleashed on other women, that was his right, and it was not her business.
But, the devil on her shoulder whispered in her ear, if he really believed every sexual encounter had the potential to be like the past few nights … maybe he needed a reminder that she was on another level.
As a parting gift.
A few hours later, she stood in Judah’s hallway, shifting impatiently from foot to foot as she waited for him to open the damn door already. Her coat provided plenty of coverage, but that didn’t mean she wanted to stay out in the hall in what was hiding beneath it.
When he finally swung the door open, she was irritated to see that he was on the phone. He mouthed, “Sorry, I’ll just be one minute,” and she huffed out a breath and let herself inside, closing and locking the door behind her.
She shouldn’t have been surprised to find Judah dressed as formally as if he’d just come from a meeting—his entire wardrobe basically consisted of flat-front pants and button-up shirts—but she was annoyed to find it extremely attractive, especially with his sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. She let her gaze linger on them while she eavesdropped just enough to decipher whether he really would be just a minute, and decided he wouldn’t.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly dressed to make herself comfortable.
Which meant she had only one option, really.
She slipped the top button of her coat through its hole, then the next, and the next, waiting for Judah’s eyes to land on her as he paced his apartment. Finally, his gaze shifted her way, and she watched the realization dawn in his eyes that it should stay exactly where it was.
Another button. Another. Another. And—
“Chaim, I’m so sorry, I have to run. Please email me the details and I’ll…” Judah hung up without even finishing his sentence as Ari pushed the coat off her shoulders, leaving her standing there in a black satin-and-lace bustier, matching panties, and thigh-highs.
“Nice outfit,” he managed through what sounded like the world’s driest mouth.
“This old thing?” Her mouth curved into a smirk. “Sorry about your phone call.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Smart boy.”
He left his phone on the counter and strode over, backing her up against the wall. In her heels, they were nearly the same height, and things were lining up very nicely. “You dressed up for me.”
“You fed me dinner.”
“You dressed up for me.” He pressed into her, and wow, okay, yes, he was definitely a fan of the ensemble. She did so love being appreciated.
Still, he hadn’t kissed her yet, had barely even touched her, and she was getting impatient. “Does this mean you like it?”
He tilted his head down, and she waited for his mouth to land on hers, finally, but it landed near her ear instead. “Do you remember when I told you I wanted to rip that bridesmaid’s dress off you?”
“Vividly,” she murmured.
“I’m trying very, very hard not to completely destroy this pretty little thing you have on.”
“How’s that going for you?”
“Terribly.”
Judging by the way his hands had tightened into fists on either side of her, that was fully accurate.
“Well, it was expensive, so I appreciate that. Here, let me help.” Without breaking eye contact, she slid the black lace panties down her legs, then tucked them into the breast pocket of his shirt. “Look at that. Teamwork.”
The heat in his eyes could’ve melted glass, and she waited for him to say or do something—anything—but he stayed pinning her to the wall with nothing more than a look.
And then he sank to his knees.
She felt his shuddering breath before he even parted her with his thumbs.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, and her legs wobbled in anticipation, just barely stabilized by his hands sweeping down to her ankles.
Then he slid them back up, stroking up over her calves and the backs of her thighs before cupping her ass, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
“Judah,” she moaned. “Come on.”
“Shh, I’m busy.” He kissed along the crease of her thigh, nibbled at her hipbone, and made his way down the other side.
“This is cruelty.”
He smiled against her skin before giving her the firm lick she so desperately craved, making her gasp for air.
She slid her hands into his hair, tugging as he gripped her hips, burying his face inside her.
Her breathing grew shallow as he used his tongue to trace the edges, to swirl around her clit and place a kiss there, and then another, before brushing it with his nose as he moved to lick her slowly from the inside out.
“Holy fuck,” she breathed, any coherence devolving into swearing and moans as he explored her with lips and tongue and—so help her God—teeth. “Have you been practicing?”
There was no answer, only a humming against her clit before he sucked it into his mouth and absolutely obliterated her ability to think, especially when he lifted her leg over his shoulder to get even closer.
His fingers soon joined, a quick caress before he easily slid one, then two inside her, and soon her entire body was tensing—so close she swore and prayed and begged for relief before finally imploding on trembling legs, his firm hand on her hip the only thing keeping her from collapsing on the ground.
He helped lower her to the floor, and she curled up into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I lied,” she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder. “I am deeply, deeply unsorry about your phone call.”
“I kind of suspected,” he whispered back.
“Judah, seriously, how are you so good at this?” He snorted, his breath tickling her neck, but she looked him squarely in the eye. “No, for real. I don’t think you’re lying about me being your first, but this is, like … a weird, preternatural level of skill.”
“You’re not exactly subtle about what you do and don’t like.
” His fingertips trailed along her shoulder, her collarbone, drawing a light shiver.
“I follow the way you move, the way your breathing changes, the noises you make—I really, really like those noises in particular. Same as anyone else does.”
She stared at him in wonder, positive he was joking, then realized he wasn’t at all. “You really believe that. You genuinely think everyone takes the time to stay that in tune with the other person and cares that much about making them feel good.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t they?”
“Oh, sweet summer child.” She thought about the question he’d asked her two nights earlier—if it was always as good as it was between them—and she wondered if maybe, for him, it would be.
Maybe she was actually the one doomed to find everything downhill from here.
It was a terrible thought on too many levels to contemplate.
“Still, that doesn’t explain all the technique. ”
To her surprise, his cheeks pinkened. “I like to be good at things. And I’m good at researching how to be.”
“You researched?”
He shrugged, his cheeks going full-on red. “I only took lessons in piano; the rest of the instruments I play, I taught myself. Learning how to play instruments is what I do.”
A sly smile spread across her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard going down on me referred to as ‘playing an instrument’ before. That’s quite the euphemism.”
“Oh, trust me, you make beautiful music when my tongue hits the right spot.”
“You fucking nerd.”
He threw back his head and laughed, and she had to bite her lips to keep from grinning proudly. It was so rare to elicit that kind of reaction from Judah, and every time she did, she felt like she should get a gold star.
No, wait. No gold stars for laughing. Gold stars were for orgasms, and orgasms alone.
It was too easy, sometimes, when she was blissed out and lying in his surprisingly strong arms, to forget that they didn’t actually like each other, that this was nothing but an arrangement between two people with a massive mutual itch to scratch.
And she couldn’t let herself forget that.
She couldn’t let herself forget that for a minute.