Chapter 18 Olena
OLENA
Nestled in the woods, perched on a hill overlooking the river’s edge, Jude’s place has a kind of dreamy, rustic log cabin vibe.
I can’t help thinking it suits him perfectly.
Hunky lumberjack is fucking right, I think with a smirk.
Standing on the covered front porch, I knock on his door and wait, my insides fluttering with nervous anticipation.
Jude answers the door looking freshly showered, his hair slightly damp. He’s wearing a fitted navy blue henley shirt and clean jeans. His sleeves are pushed up, showing the tattoos on his arms. He slowly wipes his hands on a tea towel, regarding me with a lazy grin.
I take a moment to catch my breath. Neither of us speaks as he steps aside to let me in the door. As he shuts it gently behind us, his hand slides down my arm, pulling me close.
I wrap my arms around his waist and close my eyes, my face in his chest, breathing in deeply. He smells so good.
Burying his face in my hair, he presses a kiss to the top of my head and softly rubs my back. “You smell amazing,” he murmurs into my hair.
I rushed home after work to shower too. I’ve never gotten ready so fast in my life.
“I was just thinking the same about you. Beats mud by a mile.” I smile up at him. “Although that does have a certain… appeal.” I raise an eyebrow and he smirks.
He leans down, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to my cheek. Releasing our embrace, I quickly shrug off my coat and kick off my shoes, leaving them near the front door.
Murphy lumbers over to greet me, tail wagging lazily, and I stoop to ruffle him around the neck. When he’s had his fill of affection, he plods away, settling down in his dog bed nearby.
“Come with me.” Jude takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen, where a pot of water simmers quietly on the stove. The kitchen is simple, a small island in the center.
“Your house suits you,” I say as my eyes travel the room.
Across from the kitchen is a small living room with a wood-burning stove.
The back of the couch, draped in a plaid blanket, is all that separates the two rooms, which are otherwise one big space.
There’s a small hallway opposite where I stand, presumably leading to Jude’s bedroom at the back of the house.
“Suits me? How so?”
I turn to him, stepping in close as he runs his hands up and down my arms.
My hands find his waist. “Well, it’s quiet. And rugged.” I raise an eyebrow and see him smile, dropping his gaze briefly. “And sturdy, I guess… like it’s been here for ages. Weathered some storms.”
“Well, you’re right about the house being old,” he replies, smiling. “My grandfather built this place. It was our family’s summer cabin when we were growing up.”
“We?” I ask, tilting my head.
“Me and my little brother, Miles.”
I nod.
“He lived here with me for a while, but he works in construction in Seattle now. So now it’s just me here.”
Just me, I repeat to myself in my head. Like there’s anything just about Jude.
His eyes pass over the room. “I’ve had to fix the house up quite a bit to make it comfortable for living here year-round but… it works.” He gives a small shrug.
“Well, I love it. Very cozy,” I say, smiling up at him as he brushes a thumb over my cheek. My eyes dip down to his lips.
“Glad you like it.” He sounds almost sheepish. “I do too. It’s quiet, like you said—for the most part. Miles shows up to crash once in a while. Keeps me on my toes.”
“Seems pretty quiet right now,” I say suggestively. I love that we’re in this isolated, private place together. Just us. We’ve never been alone like this.
He grins and pulls away, squeezing my fingers before motioning for me to sit on one of the stools at the island.
As I take my seat, he moves behind me and I hold my breath as he gathers my long hair in his hands and sweeps it forward over one of my shoulders. I close my eyes and lean my head to the side, baring my neck to him.
Dear God, I’m not going to make it through dinner if he keeps touching me like this.
Jude’s hands slide over my shoulders and he bends to kiss my neck. “I can’t believe I get you all to myself,” he breathes against my skin.
I turn my face up to meet his eyes as he straightens, then squeezes my arms. “You’re gonna need to pace yourself.”
He grins guiltily at me.
“I seem to remember you saying you wanted to do this properly.” I arch an eyebrow and he pushes away, looking pained but smiling.
“I do, I do,” he says, almost to himself. He blows out a breath and walks into the kitchen, running a hand down his face.
“Plus, I want to watch you cook.” I lean my chin on my fist, propping my elbows on the surface of the island in front of me. “You promised me dinner.”
“Dinner. Yes.” He points at me with one hand while opening the fridge with the other. He pulls out carrots, an onion, and a red bell pepper. I shamelessly watch his arm muscles working as he runs them under water at the sink.
He is so fucking hot. I love that I can openly stare at him now that we’re not at work.
He pauses, turning off the tap and shaking out the vegetables before placing them on the cutting board. Drying his hands, he turns away from me to open a cupboard above the counter.
I let my eyes slide down his back, admiring his ass and blowing out a soft breath.
He pulls down two wine glasses. “What kind of wine do you like?” he asks.
“I uh…” I start, tearing my eyes away from his body and blinking. “I don’t actually know.” I look down, a bit embarrassed to admit my lack of fancy-person knowledge. “I usually just order whatever other people are having. Or I pick a random one.”
“Well, okay… red or white? Should we start there?”
“White.” No wine stains for me this time.
He nods and pulls a bottle out of the fridge. Placing it on the counter between us, he unwraps the top and twists the corkscrew into place, pulling the cork with ease as he watches me.
“How am I going to do this?” he asks, looking pensive as his eyes rove over my face. His gaze pauses for a moment on my lips before he looks away to pour the wine.
“What do you mean?” I ask warily, accepting the glass of wine he hands me.
“How am I going to manage being with you at work every day?”
I smile and lower my eyes.
“Even now, you’re three feet away from me and I want to jump over the counter just to be closer to you.”
I set down my glass and hop off the stool, walking around the edge of the island. He goes still as I come closer, looking down at me with heat in his eyes. Reaching for his hips, I hook my fingers into his belt loops on both sides and pull him against me, our faces inches apart.
“There. One problem solved.” I arch up and give him an inviting look.
He lifts my face gently with both hands and brings my mouth to his. I feel his breath on my lips, the pull between us filling my senses.
“Temptress,” he whispers against my aching lips. A slow grin spreads across his features and he lets go of me, turning back to the cutting board. “Someone’s got to make this meal.”
My jaw hanging open, I stand there and remind myself to breathe—his sudden absence almost painful.
I slowly return to my stool and Jude glances at me over his shoulder, smiling.
I look up at the ceiling as I take a long sip of my wine, lifting my hair off my neck with my other hand; suddenly, it feels too warm in here.
“Oh my God, this is incredible,” I mumble around a bite of stir-fry.
“You’re incredible.” Jude smiles and drains his glass.
I roll my eyes. “You’re a shameless flirt.”
“Me?” He sets the glass down, leaning forward. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been trying to destroy my self-control for over a week.” At my confused expression, he goes on. “The reading glasses?” A hint of heat returns to his eyes and he shakes his head.
I smile and look down at my food, fidgeting with the handle of my fork. “I couldn’t help myself.” My eyes lift to meet his. “It was too perfect.”
He narrows his eyes with a rueful smile.
I rest my chin on my hand and tilt my head. “You should’ve seen your face,” I say, grinning with delight.
“I probably looked like a man about to have a heart attack.”
“You did,” I laugh softly.
“Careful how you wield that power, MacMillan.” He raises an eyebrow and his green eyes flicker with desire.
We finish eating and Jude stands to clear our plates. He walks to the sink, and I let my eyes devour his body from behind. Again. I will never get sick of this view.
He turns, catching me in the act.
I grin and bite my lip.
“Hold on, were you just… objectifying me?” he asks with mock incredulity.
“Yuh-huh. One hundred percent,” I tease, finishing the last of my wine. “As you were.” I motion for him to turn back around.
“Alright, I’ll allow it.” He smiles, turning back to the sink.
“How generous of you.” I stand and walk to the kitchen, approaching him slowly, making a point of placing my empty glass next to the sink beside him.
He watches me over his shoulder, letting out a breath when my breasts graze against his back as I reach past him. He dries his hands, then turns to face me, sliding them around my waist.
Kissing my forehead, then my nose, Jude’s hands slip under the hem of my shirt behind me. He traces the bones of my spine with a finger, sliding his other hand down over my ass, a low sound of satisfaction rumbling from his throat.
My arms circle his neck, resting on his strong shoulders, and our lips meet in a slow kiss.
My fingers drift through his hair to the back of his neck, then travel slowly down his muscled arms. Pulling away, I twine my fingers with his and lead him by the hand to the living room.
I bite my lip as I guide him to the couch, seeing the heat in his gaze.
He sits and I climb over him, straddling him on my knees.
Cupping my face in both hands, he pulls me down, kissing me deeply, fiercely, like he’s been holding back all night before unleashing himself like this.
He shifts his hips forward to meet mine and grabs me from behind to crush me into him, letting out a soft growl against my mouth as his hardness presses against me.
My eyes flutter at his sudden intensity and I can’t help but move my hips against the delicious heat pressing between my legs.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth, searching, tasting, and sliding against mine.
He bites my lower lip softly before he kisses his way along my jawline, then down my neck.
Reaching my collarbone, he sweeps my hair back and I arch my neck as he licks me there, causing my entire body to shiver, all my senses firing at once.
I roll my hips as he grips onto my ass, pressing me closer, and trail my tongue along the arc of his ear.
He hisses a sharp inhale and softly groans, sliding his hands over my thighs.
Dipping my head down to kiss his neck, I’m desperate to feel more of him. I pull his shirt up between us, raking my fingers over his stomach muscles.
Fucking hell.
“Olena…” He takes my jaw in his hands and pulls me to face him. His eyes are hooded, his expression dark. “I want you in my bed.”
Yes, please. I smile, leaning in to kiss him again, craving him so badly I feel almost drunk with need.
His cock pulses against me, straining behind the fly of his jeans.
I run a hand down his chest between us, fisting his shirt, and crush my lips to his.
His hands are in my hair, his tongue tangled with mine.
The kiss deepens, getting wilder, like we’ve been starved of each other’s taste and can’t get enough.
He tears his mouth away again, breathing hard. “But we have to stop.”
I tense. “What?” I ask quietly, pulling back, the sting of rejection threatening once again. “Why?” I search his eyes.
He kisses my cheek. His voice is low and rough. “Because… we were supposed to do this properly.” He gives me a lazy grin, his eyes lingering on my mouth. I can tell he wants more, too, but is trying to control himself.
“But…” I start to say.
He leans in close, his cheek against mine, his lips next to my ear.
“Because… when I make you come,” he breathes, and I inhale sharply at his words, closing my eyes for a moment, “I want to take my time.” He kisses my neck, his voice a low rasp.
“I want to watch you. I want to see the look on your face when you go over the edge.”
My cheeks blaze with heat. I can’t look at him. I bite my lip as he brushes his mouth against my neck and a pulse of soft pleasure courses through my body.
“And I want you to spend the night so we can do it all over again in the morning.”
My eyes shutter as I exhale. Holy fuck. I move my hips against him in response, almost involuntarily.
His hands stop me gently, and he continues with his infuriating, sexy logic. “I want to enjoy every minute of it. Of you. I don’t want to be worrying about waking up for work the next day.”
Right. It’s Monday night. We have work in the morning. I let out a groan of frustration and he chuckles softly against my cheek, kissing me there. I reluctantly shift my hips back from him in an effort to help me concentrate. I pull back and meet his eyes.
“How do you have this much self-control?” I ask with a teasing prod to his chest. “It’s very unfair of you to show off like that.”
He laughs. “Well, someone responsible had to step in.” His gaze drops to my mouth and he looks away, taking a steadying breath. He meets my eyes again as he runs his hands down my back, leaning back on the couch. “Friday night.”
“Friday?” I groan again, throwing my head back. “I have to work with you all week. I’m going to lose my mind.” Leaning in again, I kiss him softly.
“The suffering will be mutual, I promise you.” He smirks.
“Okay,” I say regretfully, “but only so long as you promise to suffer.”
He puts his hand to his heart. “Promise.”