Chapter 22
22
[Genie]
I n the middle of the night, I leave my room to get a drink of water from the kitchen. Judd’s house feels exceptionally dark, and I hear the slight rhythmic sound of something being tapped somewhere down the hall leading to Judd’s portion of the house.
Tap. Tap. Pause. Tap. Tap. Pause.
I consider investigating but I don’t want to intrude on Judd at such a late hour. For the third night in a row, he hasn’t made a move to kiss me, and it’s been all my fault. I blocked him the other day, then sent him into a tailspin of worry, and now we’re flirting in the friendzone when all I want to do is crush over the invisible boundary.
After retrieving a glass from an upper cabinet, I’m just about to set the container beneath the waterspout on his refrigerator when a violent crack of bright lightning illuminates the enter great room and scares the hell out of me.
I drop the glass and scream.
As my heart hammers like it wants out of the cage of my ribs, I flatten my palm against my chest and suck in a deep breath. I’m wearing sleep shorts and a tank top, and my exposed flesh is clammy. I’d giggle at my sudden panic if I didn’t feel struck dumb from the sudden flash or the deep roar of thunder that quickly follows.
I’ve also broken the glass, which shattered as it hit the strip of tile between the kitchen island and the sink slash work area, and in the darkness, I can’t tell where the shards of glass rest. My feet are bare.
“What happened?” The heavy exhale in Judd’s questions suggests he sprang from bed but when I glance up at him, he’s wearing a pair of shiny athletic shorts and tight-fitting shoes on his feet. His chest is bare and heaving from exertion. Tape covers his knuckles and hands.
“I was getting a drink of water, but the lightning struck and startled me.”
Judd makes to move closer, but I hold up a hand which would be difficult to see if it wasn’t for another flash of electric volts lighting up the sky.
I flinch, then anxiously giggle.
Judd takes another step forward, but with my hand still lifted, I warn him, “Stop. I broke a glass.”
He ignores my caution and takes the final steps to close the distance between us. Glass crunches beneath his feet as he sweeps in and scoops me up, setting me on the island countertop.
“Your feet,” I state, concerned that despite his shoes, the glass will puncture them.
“Are covered. What about yours? Did you step in anything?” Judd awkwardly lifts one ankle to inspect my foot but there isn’t enough light to see.
Lightning bolts through the sky again and I flinch, sharply turning my head toward the windows, where the lightning exposes the lake.
“Are you afraid of storms?”
“A little. I think it just caught me off guard.” I hadn’t been aware rain was rolling in. I’ve been so consumed with thoughts of Judd and spending time with him that I didn’t pay attention to the weather.
Lightning flashes vibrant and angry once more. I glance back at Judd who is watching me. He stands at the edge of my knees, my feet brushing his legs. He lifts one hand, digging his teeth into the edge of the tape near his wrist and pulls back, then uses his other hand to begin unwinding the long strip.
With one hand free, he uses the other to repeat the action, removing the protective strand around his knuckles. He tosses the spent tape on the counter beside me, then braces his arms on either side of my legs which spread a little allowing him to stand between my knees.
The entire scene is a bit barbaric and yet I’m completely turned on. The rip of that tape. The strength of his teeth. The sharp fling of the discarded equipment. Visions of him treating me in the same manner rush through my head. My shirt ripped down the center like in a historical romance. His teeth digging into the flesh of my neck, and then him pressing me to my back on this countertop.
My core is already thumping, the pulse pounding ridiculously hard.
Lightning strikes again. Then thunder rumbles. I flinch, all fantasy bopped out of my head.
“You’re safe here, firefly. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“Why do you call me firefly?” I’ve never been a nickname girl and yet every time he calls me the term, something flutters in my belly, like a flock of the magical insects in flight.
“Seems fitting. You’re brightness in the dark.”
I swallow thickly. The summery bug only blinks once, like something mystical. A star on earth. Then its light is gone. “But for only a flash, like lightning.” Am I only a momentary spark for Judd?
“You seem to be some kind of anomaly. You even light up during the sunniest day.”
This man . His words. His actions. He’s so much and yet I cannot get enough of him. I’ve been toying with that snap-crackle-pop between us. Skirting a line when I can no longer know why I’ve drawn it.
I want him to kiss me. I want to be closer to him.
I also don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to be hurt by him.
Still, the energy swirling around us cannot be denied. Like the storm brewing outside, Judd and I are on the precipice of something explosive. The tension between us escalating from simmer to boil.
We stare at one another despite the blackness around us. As another ripple of lightning hits, illuminating Judd’s face. His eyes are a mixture of hesitation and desire. A crease in his brows expresses his internal conflict.
Another roar of thunder booms, but the hammering of my heart suddenly rings louder in my ears.
“When I was little, I was afraid of thunderstorms,” he tells me, his voice low, like speaking to a frightened child. “Stone taught me this trick. Count between the lightning’s strike and the thunder’s rumble to know the distance of the storm from wherever you are.”
I nod, keeping my eyes on his.
Lightning hits and we count, getting to eight before thunder grumbles.
“The storm is eight miles away,” Judd clarifies.
My brows lift, skeptical, as the storm feels like it’s over our heads, but I like that Judd is trying to soothe me when he’s admitted storms used to frighten him. Still, my heart hammers, echoing the pulse between my spread thighs.
“Your turn,” he says when the next current of lightning brightens the room.
My count only makes it to five.
The storm is coming closer. Our eyes lock together.
Another strike of lightning and the thunder sounds like it’s dancing with the bolt.
Judd ticks off. “One. Two. Three.”
Our eyes remain on one another until an explosion, so fluorescent and aggressive, shakes the windows and has me turning my head. My voice trembles, “One. Two?—”
Judd’s mouth is on mine, cutting off my count and blindsiding me, but I welcome this flash. The warmth of his lips. The tenderness of his touch. The distraction of his mouth covering mine.
I pull back and we stare at one another, chests pitching, breaths heavy.
Another wave of light. The entire house feels like it’s trembling.
“One—” Judd only gets out that first count before I’m holding his jaw and kissing him. My hands slide over his warm shoulders and around to his back, clasping at his corded muscles, that strain as if he’s still holding himself back while kissing me. He’s sweaty, and there is something primal and addictive about it. His arms remain outspread, hands braced on the counter another second, but I cling to him. The strength of his posture. The heat coming off him. The calm that comes from touching him.
Finally, he wraps his arms around me, palms cupping my lower back to tug me forward, spreading my legs wider to embrace his hips.
We kiss and kiss until I can’t remember there is a storm outside. The thunder and lightning are clashing in this dark kitchen instead.
Moving my head to the side deepens the kiss and Judd groans into my mouth, then his tongue joins the mix. He tugs me tighter against him and my center meets his abs, desperate for friction with other places on him.
My skin crackles. My heart jolts. I am the storm. One of desire and lust for this man kissing me like no man ever has and no man ever will again.
“Firefly,” he moans, dragging at my lower lip before pulling away. His forehead rests on mine. “I thought you didn’t want this.”
“I do,” I whisper. “I don’t want to complicate things, but I really want you to keep kissing me.”
“Your wish is my command.” His mouth returns to mine, and I feel as if a special wish has been granted.
Judd is the untold riches and the ability to fly and the secrets of the unknown. All impossible wishes rolled into reality.
I hitch my knees higher, tucking my feet around the back of Judd’s thighs. He leans forward, pressing me back a bit. And we kiss like this storm will destroy us. We kiss like it’s the end and a beginning. There is no more pretending. Something is happening between us. Something electric and magnetic, and frightening. Something special and unique like unicorn stationery and yes checkmarks. Judd tastes familiar although I’ve never kissed him before. He tastes like friendship and flirtation and anticipation of more.
As the rage of the storm outside eventually recedes, and the patter of rain becomes more distinct, Judd slows our kisses until they are only soft suction. Then his forehead comes to mine again.
“I don’t think the storm is over,” his voice is thick.
I don’t know that I ever want it to end .
Heavy raindrops pelt the windows distracting me for only a second before Judd hikes me off the counter. I squeak, tightening my legs around his waist and wrapping my arms around his neck. Fragile glass crunches beneath his feet.
“I’ll get it in the morning,” he mutters near my ear, anticipating what I was about to ask. Shouldn’t we clean that up? Instead, he carries me toward his room.
Judd sets me on his bed and then stands upright beside it. “I’ve been working out and I stink. I need a shower.”
He smells good to me. Winter mint and all man.
“Stay put?” Those eyes flicker with concern that I’ll disappear like I hadn’t meant to do the other day.
“I’ll be right here.” My voice is low and shy.
Judd disappears through a door off his room but returns rather quickly. His hair wet. His chest damp. A fresh pair of shorts.
He tugs back the covers on his bed, and I follow suit on the side he laid me. Once beneath the light blankets, Judd scoots closer to me and we mirror one another, resting on our sides facing each other. He brushes back hair that’s falling toward my face.
“What are we doing?” I whisper, suddenly uncertain of everything. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of woman anymore. I also can’t remember the last time I slept in a bed with a man.
With my hands tucked beneath the pillow, Judd reaches for my left hand and pulls it to him, kissing my palm before covering the back of my hand.
“We’re weathering the storm. Together.” His voice is deep while quiet, eyes seeking mine in the dim light of his bedroom. A nightlight glows from somewhere in a wall outlet.
Judd leans forward, kissing me once more, like a hesitant teen experiencing his first brush with a crush. We kiss a few more minutes, hands never roaming, no body parts rubbing, and I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
But I’m also at peace. A strange balance of electric energy and calm.
Judd is both those things, and I don’t think I’ll recover from the storm.
Once again, the kisses subside, and Judd and I stare at one another. Like we don’t want the night to end. We don’t want to sleep despite the rain acting as a lullaby against the roof.
“Tell me a secret, Judd Sylver. Something no one else might know,” I ask, like I want to hold onto a little piece of him. Something just for me.
Judd stares back at me, thinking before speaking. “I did want to be a poet.”
My eyes widen, both shocked while pleased that vibe coming off him wasn’t just an act.
“When my mom died, I wrote poems to help with my emotions. The agony of losing my mother. The distress of dealing with my father.” Judd pauses.
He is a tortured soul, one deeply repressing his feelings while needing a creative outlet to release them.
“I thought writing would somehow relieve this ache inside me,” he continues. “Eventually, my father found one of my poems. Something rudimentary about missing my mother. He ridiculed my words, then slapped me for crying over the loss of her. I was eleven.”
“Judd,” I whisper, feeling tormented for him.
He shrugs as if it was nothing, so used to the abuse he endured, so locked in the existence of it as a part of him.
“Now you. Tell me a secret.” He leans forward and kisses my knuckles, right over the ring.
Something inside me tells me to share my darkest secret with Judd. To tell him the guilt I carry with me day in and day out. The reason I take my mother’s condescending words and question my worth.
But this moment feels too fragile for such a secret, so I offer Judd something else.
“I noticed your tattoo earlier,” I whisper.
“Which one?” Judd scoffs, knowing he has so many.
“The one on your forearm that says check yes in bold script.”
“How is this a secret of yours?” Judd tease, his tone quiet but easygoing.
“My secret is that I want to check yes to you, Judd.” In every way, I want to be that YES for him, but I still don’t think marriage or kids is in the cards for me.
And it’s too bad because some lucky woman is going to check all the yeses for him someday. She’ll be his wife and she’ll be the mother of his children, and I hate her already when I have no right to dislike her.
Judd Sylver deserves all his wishes to be granted and his dreams to be fulfilled.
And I wish it could be me to give him those things.
“You already do check all my yeses,” he whispers and something in me cracks open. The sliver in a shell that spreads down the delicate shield, allowing in oxygen, providing a glimmer of light.
Could I really be all those things to Judd? Could he want me as I am? Fragile and a bit tarnished. Perhaps I’m the one afraid to check yes to unasked questions, despite thinking I’m a free-spirit and open-minded.
Would I really be a caged bird in marriage?
When Judd scoops my hair around my ear, eyes on me as if he knows my mind is racing, I settle under his patient gaze.
His hand lowers for my left one once more and then he squeezes. “Come closer.”
The command could mean so many things, but for now, I scoot closer to his body, calmed once more by the heat of his skin and strength of his presence. Judd slips his arm around me, tugging me even closer and tucking me underneath his chin, my forehead against his chest, and I breathe him in.
Weathering the storm together .