Chapter 29
29
[Genie]
L ater, back at Judd’s, I take a shower and then search for him, finding him in the library seated at the antique writing desk. His large frame looks a little disproportionate behind the delicate furniture. Or it might be the image of a modern man wearing a white T-shirt and a backwards baseball cap sitting behind such an ornate desk.
As I enter, Judd glances up like he’d been concentrating hard on something. His large hand flattens over the paper on the desk.
“What’s that?” I ask, attempting to see around his spread fingers which cover most of the page underneath them. Several balls of paper are crumpled and dropped on the floor around the desk.
“Just a little something I’ve been toying with.” He shrugs but his voice betrays any innocence.
“Just a little something- something ,” I tease. “Let me see.”
I reach forward, catching the tip of his fingers, attempting to pry them upward but Judd is stronger than me, even in his fingertips. His palm remains flat. His fingers don’t budge.
My curiosity doubles down.
“Judd,” I whine like a simpering child. “Let me see.”
With my lip pouting and my eyelids batting, Judd finally relents.
“Earlier, you spouted off a limerick about my mother, and I wanted to repay the favor. Did you know today is National Limerick Day?”
I’m surprised that he knows the occasion. Edward Lear is credited with popularizing the limerick poem and May twelfth is his birthday. Typically, the five-line poems are whimsical, and a bit raunchy, and sometimes even nonsense.
And Judd is writing one for me.
“Can I read it?” A touch of warmth fills me. Judd wrote me a poem .
“It’s not very good,” he defends, keeping his voice low and gaze downward.
“But it’s about me,” I flirt. “So, it must be great.”
My playful comment brings Judd’s head upward and his lips tip up in a hint of a smile. His eyes flash like the crackle before a summer shower. One welcome and refreshing and desperately needed after a long dry spell.
Judd will be my undoing.
Cautiously, he lifts one finger at a time, as if pulled upward by an invisible string, before removing his hand.
I snatch up the unicorn lined paper, smiling to myself.
He wrote me a poem and it’s on this special paper. I read the poem once, then a second time more slowly.
There once was a woman named Firefly.
Her spirit was bubbly and spry.
Her presence, shiny and bright,
She lit up my loneliest nights.
Now, I don’t want to say goodbye.
“I’m a bit rusty. I haven’t attempted a poem since I was eleven,” he says, reminding me of his past poem-writing experience.
Clutching the paper to my chest, I stare over the desk at him, sensing what this means for him while expressing my own sentiments.
“No one has ever written me a poem.”
No one has ever looked at me the way he does.
No one has ever made me feel the things I do when I’m around him.
And I’m not certain I can say goodbye.
“It’s beautiful.” My eyes prickle with tears brought on overwhelming emotions. I don’t want to leave him.
As I round the desk, Judd scoots back the chair. I slip onto his lap, circling my arms around his neck while he casually wraps his arms around my waist.
“Let me see.” I hum. “There once was a man named Judd.” I focus my eyes on his.
“He made my heart go thud-thud.”
The corner of Judd’s mouth quirks upward again.
“He is handsome and strong. And his beep-beep is long.”
“ Beep-beep ,” Judd mouths before he chuckles, the sound jostling me on his lap.
“And he knows how to blossom my bud.” I laugh, knowing the line doesn’t make sense, but not a bad limerick for off the cuff.
Suddenly, I’m lifted when Judd stands. He spins us and my back hits the sliding ladder leaning against the bookshelves. My backside balances on a rung while my feet rest on a lower one.
When Judd pulls away, I cling to him, afraid I’ll fall forward.
Then his mouth is on mine, pressing me back. The poem is still in my hand, and I release it, letting the paper drift to the floor while Judd pins me to the ladder. His broad body holds me in place as my breasts crush against his chest. My hands are in his hair. His palms cup my face. And he kisses me like it’s his superpower.
“You make my heart go thud-thud, too, firefly.”
I hum as his mouth meets mine again, scattering my thoughts. His lower body wedges between my legs, spreading them farther apart. Judd bends a little, lining us up so his thickness meets my core but too many layers of clothing separate us.
Why haven’t we had sex yet?
He shifts his hips, rocking against me, and I purr against his mouth. Back and forth he moves, until he’s hastily lifting the hem of his T-shirt which I wear and swiping his knuckles over the damp center of my underwear. I hadn’t bothered with shorts after my shower, thinking we’d curl up on the couch together. This is ultimately better.
“I don’t want you to go,” Judd hums in my ear before moving to my neck, sucking at my jaw, nipping at my chin. “Stay with me a little longer.”
Longer than ten days? Longer than tomorrow? Could Judd want forever? The thought hits me so hard, I gasp, but he’s also slid his fingers around my boy-cut panty and runs his knuckles over bare skin, sensitive and damp with desire.
“Judd.” I whimper. How does this man take me from zero to sixty in less than a minute? “I want you inside me.” Give me something to always remember you by. Give me more .
Judd pauses on his kissing spree, stopping at my collarbone a second before lifting his head. His fiery blue eyes stare into mine. “Not yet, firefly.”
Before I can protest, he kisses me hard again, sweeping swiftly into my mouth with his tongue. He moves to my neck, sucking and nipping at the tender flesh once more.
I tip back my head, tapping it lightly against a ladder rung behind me.
“Hold on, firefly,” he whispers, removing my arms from his neck and setting my hands above me to cling to a higher rung. Then Judd drops to his knees, taking my underwear with him as he lowers.
Precariously stretched on this library ladder, I’m too blissed out to move.
Judd’s head is between my thighs, one leg draped over his shoulder. His tongue against that nub of nerves. His mouth sucks at me. I’m completely at Judd’s whim in this position, and I never want to move. Like a flower pressed into a book, I’m pinned in place, preserved forever in this moment.
Except, Judd is my keepsake.
This man has given me so much in such a short time. The answers to long-held questions and new truths. He’s shared me with his family and other important people in his life. He’s proud of me and what I’ve accomplished, and he’s taken me to new levels of arousal.
Couple goals . Never lose one another.
Tears well again. The combination of his mouth on me and the fullness of my heart. It’s too much and yet I selfishly want more.
Judd’s tongue flicks and I’m drawn back to the moment. He hums against me, and I fall apart.
My orgasm comes on like the snap of a book closing at the end of a chapter. When you’re anxious to continue the story but just need another minute to process what’s happened so far. I cry out as I shatter, clinging to the ladder and Judd takes me over the edge and into unchartered waters.
I’ve never felt like this before.
Exposed in an unfamiliar way, the sensation is not just my current position, spread wide and dripping, legs trembling, but with Judd overall. The things he does to me. How I feel about him. I want . . .
More. More. More .
The thudding rhythm plays on repeat. An exciting, frightening, marching beat. One I’m afraid to get comfortable hearing.
With a final kiss to my core, one that’s tender, almost loving, Judd leans away.
I cup his chin as he stands, kiss him quick and thoroughly, then release the ladder and glide down to the floor.
“Genie?” Judd chokes around my name as I spread my knees wide around his feet and hastily tug down his jeans. With the denim and his boxer briefs pooled at his ankles, I squeeze Judd’s thick shaft, marveling at the length and weight of such a magnificent cock. He hisses when I lick up the shaft, and he catches himself on the ladder rung above my head when I suck at only the tip.
Then I swallow him against my throat. With one hand on his hip, I steady myself and work him in and out of my mouth.
More. More. More .
With both his hands on the ladder, Judd gently rocks forward, using my mouth like I envision him entering me. Filling me up. Making me whole.
Not yet , he’d said.
Why wait? Tomorrow might be our last day, but I can’t think about that yet.
With Judd in my mouth, the winter mint fragrance of him mingles with a sexy, musky scent that surrounds me. I breathe him in. Drink him in. Until he surges forward, tapping the back of my throat and then pulls back only enough to give me a breath.
Then Judd is spilling down my throat with a loud groan. Glancing up at his strained neck, his face pinched in ecstasy, I wonder if I can stay.
What would more look like?