Chapter Thirty
“Yo, thanks for the ride,” Noah said to Judah as they pulled up in front of their building.
“It’s no big deal,” Danny broke in before Judah could open his mouth. “He was coming here anyway. Bow chicka bow wow.”
Ari rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Daniel, and get out of the car.”
“Aren’t you coming up?” Akiva asked.
Judah narrowed his eyes. “We’ll get the next elevator.”
Akiva shrugged and closed the door behind him, leaving Judah and Arielle alone in the car.
“Hey.” He twined his fingers into her hair and dropped a brief kiss on her lips. “Listen, I know it’s been a long night, so if you don’t want—”
“Judah. Do you want to come upstairs?”
“Very badly.”
“Then get the fuck upstairs.”
He laughed lowly and kissed her once more, just a light one on the forehead. “Guess this is the time to admit that I packed my tefillin and some clothes, on the off chance.”
“Our first real tefillin date!” She clapped her hands together in joy. “Now I know we’re serious.”
He sighed but grabbed his bag and exited the car, coming around to hold her door open. As he took her hand to help her out of the car in her heels and gown, it occurred to her that she didn’t have to let go.
She didn’t.
He didn’t either.
They took the elevator up in silence, sneaking glances at each other and grinning. It wasn’t until they were finally inside Ari’s apartment, bags tossed aside, that she spoke. “Help me out?” she asked, offering her back.
A moment later, she felt the warmth of Judah’s presence, his strong, sure fingers sweeping her hair over her shoulder and taking hold of her zipper, his breath cool on the nape of her neck as he tugged it down with agonizing slowness.
She was so aware of him—his mouth on her neck, his fingertips on her skin—that she didn’t even realize he’d slid the dress off her arms until it landed in a puddle at her feet.
She stepped out of it, missing his body heat immediately, and was about to finally slip out of the shoes when he uttered, “If you leave the heels on, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Cruel,” she said with a groan, but she obliged, and was rewarded with a head-to-toe sweeping look that could melt glass.
He stepped up to her again, grazed her cheek, traced a thumb over her lips, and smiled when she took it between her teeth for a gentle bite. “God, look at you.” Twining his fingers with hers, he dragged her to the living room mirror. “Have you ever seen someone this stunning in your entire life?”
“I suppose it would be arrogant if I said no.”
His husky laughter was a warm breeze across the nape of her neck.
“Need more help?” he asked, sliding a finger along her bra strap.
“Please,” she murmured, and he made quick work of it, dropping the black lace to the floor and sliding his hands up her torso to cup her breasts.
They made a borderline pornographic image in the reflective glass, with him still fully clad in his pristine suit, making the frisson in the air all the more erotic.
“I cannot believe I get to take you home.” His mouth, warm and wet, found the crook of her neck, the blade of her shoulder. “You really are my wildest fantasy come to life.”
Her head rolled back onto his shoulder as he squeezed her breasts, grazing her nipples with his thumbs until they peaked. “You know you can’t marry me just because you want to fuck me,” she said.
“Mmm, but you have that twisted.” He nipped at her earlobe.
“I want to marry you, and then I want to fuck my wife senseless.” A shiver traveled down her spine.
In her heels, her ass perfectly nestled his cock, and it must’ve been making her brain deeply fuzzy because a statement like that should’ve made her want to run like hell.
Instead, somehow, every fiber of her being wanted to believe it.
“Do you remember when you asked me how I can be such a Nice Jewish Boy by day, then absolutely filthy with you by night?”
Her heart flipped in her chest. “I do.”
“Well, this is the answer. I think I always knew you’d be the only one.” His lips feathered over the nape of her neck, and her eyelids fluttered closed. “That I was just getting ahead on being with my wife. And I am sure as hell gonna be absolutely filthy with my wife.”
Her knees were barely holding her up. “Judah, we went on one date, and it didn’t even last long enough for us to get our appetizers.”
His mouth moved to her shoulder. “I guess we’ll have to go on more then. Starting tomorrow night.”
“What’s tomorrow night?”
“I did promise you pizza on the couch for a second date. But Tuesday night, we’re giving Migdal another chance.”
She couldn’t believe he was still wearing his suit—hell, even his tie was still relatively neat.
He really was prim and professional, while she looked distinctly like she was about to climb a pole.
Judging by the heat in his eyes, he had zero complaints about the discrepancy.
Still, she reached up to undo the knot, to mess him up just a little. “I don’t know if I can go back there.”
A little grunt escaped his throat as she relaxed the tie’s knot and slipped it open. “What if I insist on proposing by putting a ring in a passion fruit martini?”
“If you propose to me by putting my ring in a drink, I’m saying no.”
She pulled off the bow tie and wrapped it around her own neck, then turned her attention to slipping his jacket off his shoulders.
A victorious smile spread across his face. “But another way, you’d say yes?”
Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the thought, and it wasn’t in a bad way. Or even a terrified way. Which was terrifying in itself. Except that it wasn’t.
“How are you this confident in our future?” she demanded as she moved on to his buttons.
It wasn’t that she didn’t feel as strongly as he did, but at least she knew it didn’t make sense.
She could’ve really used a little logic infusion.
“You understand I’m not going to change myself, right?
I’m not gonna start wearing all skirts, or quit my smutty job, or—”
“Ari. I don’t want you to be anyone else,” he said, watching her fingers undo button after button.
“And I’m this confident because I’ve had every fantasy about you imaginable, but the most persistent one is getting to end the night with you, even if it’s just to fall into bed and pass out.
This right here, coming home together”—he lifted his chin at the space between them, his tie around her neck and her hands pulling his shirt from his pants—“that’s the dream. ”
“Of course it’s the dream, Judah. I’m ninety-eight percent naked and in heels.”
“Okay, yes, this is an extremely sexy version of the dream,” he said with a grin, “but I promise it started much more innocently. I was waiting to board the plane to Mexico, and I realized how badly I wanted you next to me. I wanted to walk through the hotel with you, refill each other’s wine at the Seder, and crawl into bed with you afterward.
And I still very much want to do all those things.
” He cupped her face in his hands, distracting her from the work of undressing him.
“I want to come home from weddings and tell you all about the obnoxious bridesmaids who stepped on my feet. I want to hear everything you worked on that day and massage your shoulders when you’ve spent way too much time hunched at a desk.
I want to lose entire Sundays doing those infernal Lego sculptures with you.
I want you to travel with me, everywhere you want to go.
And when you don’t join me, I want the first thing I do when I get back to be to collapse with exhaustion into your arms, in an apartment we picked out together, with your smut novels right next to my Sefarim. ” He paused. “Maybe not right next to.”
“We can negotiate,” she said, pulling him into a kiss, but he stopped at a quick brush of his lips on hers.
“I believe,” he said, rolling up his sleeves, revealing one delicious forearm at a time, “I promised to make wearing those heels a little longer worth your while.”
And as he sank to his knees, sliding her panties down her legs and leaving filthy kisses in his wake, she realized she’d forgotten she was even wearing them.