13. Lucienne
Saturday, October 21st
“Oh my gosh! He would look so good as Bob Ross!”
Colette and I are combing through racks of costumes at Spirit Halloween. Jude wasn’t jumping for joy about wearing a costume to the haunted house tomorrow. Actually, he seemed a little bit embarrassed, but he agreed and gave me the freedom to pick his costume for him. No one I have ever been with has been willing to dress up with me, so I’m taking it very seriously.
She loops her arm in mine, pulling me down the aisle.
“To be fair, he would look good in any costume,” I gush.
Colette laughs and smiles at me, pushing aside a few hangers. “Listen to you!” She tugs me closer and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re not wrong. I’ve been saying from day one Jude is a hottie.”
“He’s more than just that, Colette. He’s wonderful,” I say.
“I know, Lucy. He treats you like you hung the damn moon. It’s swoonworthy.”
Things with Jude are easy.
They’re just so easy.
But there’s an underlying feeling that has been gnawing at me from the inside out. Our date tomorrow night feels momentous because I’m falling for Jude Carr. I have been from the moment he charged into that elevator. I just couldn’t see it because I was so wrapped up in my own self-defeating, self-deprecating crap.
I thought I had fallen for people before, but nothing compares to the way I feel about him. He makes it so easy to give myself to him, to share everything with him. When I thought I had found love before, it was convoluted. There were always conditions, as if that love could be rescinded at any moment.
Not now, not with Jude.
He sees me for exactly what I am, all that I am, and wants me anyway.
Colette stops and turns to me, holding my hands in hers. “Hey, did you hear me?” she laughs. I’ve been so lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t hear a word she said. That’s been happening more and more because my mind is occupied by Jude.
“Sorry—I was just thinking,” I respond.
“Fantasizing is more like it. Your cheeks are bright red.” She pokes my cheek. “Come on, Lucy. Is he, you know, good in bed?” Colette bites her bottom lip and raises her eyebrows.
She’s so intrusive, I love it.
I steer her toward the next aisle and lower my voice. “If you must know, we haven’t had sex yet. But he—um—he’s a very thoughtful, selfless man.” I cough.
Colette squeals and starts bouncing up and down like a child. Even though it’s super embarrassing, I secretly love how excited she is for me. I’m happy and she’s happy for me.
“And what does that mean exactly?!”
“He—uh—well, he went down on me in the park after the movie,” I whisper.
“HE WHAT?!” She practically screams and the few people nearby turn their heads to look at us in concern.
“Oh my God, Colette, could you be any more oblivious to how loud you are?! Holy crap, the whole store doesn’t need to know my business,” I hiss.
“You tell me something like that and expect me to pat you on the head and say good for you without causing a scene? Lucy! What has gotten into you? Public oral sex? Who even are you?” she laughs.
I shrug, tossing my hair behind my shoulder. If it hadn’t been Jude, I would have never allowed anyone to do that in such a public place. But the night had been so perfect and I couldn’t escape his addictive cedarwood scent.
I didn’t just want his mouth on me, I wanted him to fuck me up against that tree until my screams echoed through the state of Vermont.
“He—he makes me feel very safe and confident and powerful and loved—” I slap my hand over my mouth just as Colette’s jaw drops.
I shouldn’t have said that.
“Do you think he loves you? Do you love him?” she asks, breathless.
I shake my head and walk past her, grabbing a Napoleon Dynamite costume minus the wig. He doesn’t need the wig.
Oh shit, I shouldn’t have said that.
I’ve only admitted it to myself, but saying it out loud makes it so much more real, and that’s scary.
“I love Zade, you know. I told him last night.” Colette is wearing that shit-eating grin so well. Her admission stops me in my tracks and for a brief moment, I put my own embarrassment aside and allow myself to feel an overwhelming sense of happiness for my most loved friend.
“You did? How did that—”
“He was so relieved because he said he had been wanting to tell me for a while, but he was too nervous. Then we had the best sex we’ve ever had,” gushes Colette.
I don’t hesitate. I pull her into a tight hug and kiss her cheek. She squeezes me in return and starts to rock us soothingly. It’s just enough of a calming rhythm to keep me grounded.
“I’m so freaking happy for you two.” I smile.
“So, what’s your excuse, hm? When you know, you know,” she teases.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Colette tosses a maid costume in her basket but gives me a stern look over her shoulder.
“From everything you’ve told me, I think he’s head over heels for you, Lucy. You can keep your feelings to yourself if you want to, but if you’re falling for him, you should tell him because I can bet you he will reciprocate.”
Reciprocate. He actually hasn’t let me reciprocate, in any way. I’m determined to do so as soon as I can. And though I understand and appreciate how selfless he has been with me, I’m growing frustrated at not being able to show him that he also deserves to be shown how much he’s cared for.
“It’s funny you say that because he hasn’t let me reciprocate, physically I mean. I—I tried, but he stopped me. He said he wanted me to know it was okay that sometimes it was just about me, that he wanted to earn it…” I trail off, feeling my face flush. Biting my lip nervously, I avert my gaze and stare at a Bob’s Burgers costume for too long.
I expected Colette to grab me and demand more information, but instead she laces our fingers together and joins me in browsing through the rack.
“Lucy, that’s—seriously, he worships the ground you walk on. I guess you’ll know when the time is right, hm?”
Be patient, beautiful. Patient. We’ll know when it’s right.
“Have fun tomorrow! Zade and I might run into you, by the way, but we don’t want to crash your date,” shouts Colette.
I wave her off and thank her for the ride before she pulls away. She dropped me off outside of Jude’s apartment. He lives down by the lakefront in a beautiful, tall, newer apartment building near Battery Park. The trees are almost naked, having lost most of their leaves in the past week. The street is nearly covered in a layer of them, and they crunch under my feet on the sidewalk.
Lucienne:I’m outside!
Jude:Be right down.
I laugh to myself, thinking about the costumes we are about to try on. Even without the wig, Jude is going to look hysterical as Napoleon Dynamite.
I hope he has some tight jeans to polish off the look. Those would be for my viewing pleasure as well. After looking around for what felt like hours, I settled on a deer costume. I don’t know why, but it makes me laugh. I bought a fuzzy vest and face paint, the whole nine yards.
“Lucienne, hey!”
Jude comes out of the front entrance of his building, holding the door for me with a big smile plastered on his face. He has an actual beard now. Literally overnight, it filled in and I want to run my fingers through it. I slip through the open door and he leads me to the elevator.
“This place is so nice. It must be calming being so close to the water,” I exclaim.
His hand is warm on the small of my back as we walk down the hallway on the fourth floor to his apartment. There are only a few more units on his floor and everything is peacefully quiet.
“It’s beautiful. I hope my place isn’t too sterile. I’m not exactly an interior decorator, but it suits me, I think,” he says.
He opens his door and I walk into an open-plan living room and kitchen with big, tall windows overlooking the lake. There’s a small island with bar stools, and his furniture is all variations of dark brown.
It is scarcely decorated, but there are a few framed posters that line the wall down the hallway and family photos near the entryway. I spot one of a semi-younger Jude with a woman with honey brown hair hugging him to her side.
“Is this you and your sister?” I ask.
“Yup. That’s Cassie. It’s from a few years ago.”
He drops his keys on the kitchen island and stretches his arms behind his head, his t-shirt lifting enough to show the trail of hair on his stomach that disappears below the waistband of his jeans. Jude’s eyes are on me, intently watching as I touch each photo carefully.
“You two look a lot alike. Different eyes though. What about this one?”
There’s another photo of Jude with a little boy, probably about three or four, sitting in a sandbox with a couple of dump trucks.
My ovaries might explode.
“That’s my nephew, Charlie. He’s seven now. He’s my best bud. He has a sister now too, Rosie. She’s only a few months old. Last time I saw her, she was still in the hospital though.”
Each photo is so special and gives me a glimpse into Jude’s life outside of Vermont, outside of Wilder. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to meet them. I’d really like to.
“You’ll have to meet them one day. They don’t come out to the East Coast that often, especially with the newest little one, but I see them at least once a year. I’ll fly out to Washington and spend a week or two. Maybe you can come next time, if you’d like. I think you and Cassie would really get along.”
“You want me to meet your family?” I ask.
“I do. You’re important to me. And what about your family?”
“No siblings to speak of. My parents live out in the Midwest. I see them once a year too, but we aren’t super close.” I shrug.
I don’t talk about my parents much because there isn’t really much to talk about. They wanted me to go to school to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I was more into the arts. They love me and everything, but they don’t really care too much about my career choice or my life here. We keep it civil and I’m fine with that.
“I’m sorry to hear that—unless of course that’s by choice,” he says cautiously.
“By choice. No need to be sorry,” I say with a smile.
He wraps an arm around my waist, holding my back to him. His mouth is at my ear.
“Well, they’re missing out, beautiful. Maybe we can take a few photos to put on our walls, yeah?” he whispers.
There he goes, doing it again. Just when I think he can’t make me fall for him any harder, he does. He doesn’t want us to be a fleeting memory; he wants to frame us and this feeling.
I turn around in his arms and jump to wrap my legs around him. He holds me up, his arms supporting me as I kiss him. His mouth is so familiar to me already, the warmth of his breath making me dizzy as he parts his lips and flicks my tongue with his own.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he pants. He carries me over to his couch and sits down, positioning me so I’m straddling his lap.
My mind is spinning and I only have one thought. Reciprocate. I’m desperate to taste him, to consume him. I want to feel him tremble, his hands tangled in my hair. Watching and feeling Jude come undone with my mouth around him sounds like heaven and I deserve to experience it.
His hands are wildly searching for skin, one grasping the back of my neck and the other down the back of my jeans, pushing me to him. It doesn’t take long for me to begin panting, grinding against him and nipping at his jaw. His beard rubs against my chin.
“Can I go down on you, baby?” I whisper.
He groans, cupping my breast over my shirt and licking from my mouth down my throat. I tighten my legs around his, forcing another groan to escape him. I’m beside myself with insatiable need and I reach between us to wrap my hand around his length. His body jolts at my touch and he throws his head back against the couch.
“Please, Jude, let me show you how much I care about you,” I whimper.
His head snaps back to look at me, his hands holding my face steady. His eyes darken and his lips are pulled into a thin line as he swallows. He’s trying to find an excuse not to be selfish. He’s still thinking about me first.
I adore this man.
“Are you sure, beautiful? You don’t—”
“Jude Carr, if you tell me I don’t need to, so help me God. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since the night in the park. You made me feel so special, so fucking cared for, and I want to show you the same. Please let me go down on you, baby. I want you so badly.” I’m practically whining.
“Who the fuck would I be to deny you anything you want,” he whispers.
His hand is on my cheek and I turn my head, taking his thumb in my mouth and sucking it. He drags it out with a pop down my bottom lip and crushes our mouths together. Our tongues chase one another frantically.
Slowly, I lower myself to the floor. The area rug is gentle on my knees. Jude is panting; he looks completely bewildered. It’s like he can’t believe someone would want him this much.
I reach for his belt, my hands shaking with desperation as I undo the buckle with a clink. His breath hitches at my every move. When he tries to help unbutton his jeans, I gently move his hands away.
“Let me do it, baby. Hands off,” I whisper.
Before he can respond, I yank at his jeans and boxers, pulling them down his thighs. He’s pure muscle and when his length is free, my eyes widen. He’s huge. He could fill me up so deliciously.
“Lucienne, if you—oh fuck.”
I cut him off when I take him in my mouth, wrapping my lips around the tip and making small circles with my tongue. I’m pumping him slowly with one hand while the other is spread across his stomach. With each flick of my tongue, his abs flex and a warm puff of breath reaches my face.
I relax my throat to take him deeper, feeling him fill my mouth with heat. His hands dive into my hair and grasp it tightly. I moan against him, loving how urgent his touch is.
“Fuck, I wondered what your pretty little mouth would feel like, beautiful,” he chokes out.
My core aches. My panties are already wet. Giving him pleasure is almost enough to make me come undone without contact.
I pump him faster and lick his length from the base to the tip, locking eyes with him as I go. There’s a tick in his jaw and he thrusts his hips up tentatively, forcing his length deeper into my throat. I hum a moan against him, licking frantically.
“It feels fucking amazing, Lucienne. Fucking hell.”
Even when I’m on my knees for him, he’s singing my praises.
He starts to guide my head at a gentle pace, up and down. He takes extra care to keep my loose curls out of my face as I work him. I pull back slowly, taking him in my hand.
I need him to know how much I’m enjoying this. He keeps vocalizing how he feels, so maybe I should do the same. Be honest and open.
“Jude, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” I whisper, pumping him slowly.
“You—you have?” he gasps.
“From the moment you kissed me, I knew I wanted more of you.”
I wrap my lips around him again, pumping him harder. He lets out a guttural groan, his legs starting to tremble. I circle my tongue faster and I feel his length harden more. He’s getting close, his breathing erratic and choppy.
“I’m—you’re gonna make me come, beautiful,” he stammers.
Please. I want him to come. I want to feel his orgasm spill down my throat.
“Can I come, Lucienne?” he asks.
I take him as deep as I can, bobbing my head up and down. He throws his head back, his hands in my hair. But then, he tugs my head up carefully. I let him go with a pop and I whimper, staring up at him.
“Beautiful, you need to tell me where I can come. Use your words,” he gasps.
Use your words.
This man has me feeling emboldened, and so confident. I crawl into his lap and kiss him, hot and wet. Jude’s hands are on me immediately, pulling my shirt over my head and unclasping my bra. Then his mouth is on me, my nipple being encircled by his tongue.
I scream, arching my back and grinding down on his bare length. His hands are hot on my back, pulling me as close as possible.
“Stop,” I gasp.
Jude doesn’t hesitate. He releases me and almost holds me at arm’s length. His expression softens.
“Lucienne, I’m sorry, we can stop—”
I press a finger to his lips and place my hand on his cheek.
“No, baby, I mean stop so I can get back on my knees for you,” I whisper.
He lurches forward, kissing me softly, an apology on his lips. As if he thought he had done something wrong or gone too far. He couldn’t go too far with me. Not now, not ever. I want all of him.
I sink to my knees, taking him as deep as I can. In seconds, his body goes rigid and his orgasm spills down my throat in hot waves. I drink him down, moaning against him, his hands pulling at my hair with just enough delicious tension.
I open my eyes and stare up at him. He’s so gorgeous like this. His mouth is open, beads of sweat across his brow. He meets my gaze and pulls me into his lap, cradling me to his chest. We sit, trying to catch our breath, and I know that I will never want anything more.
“How have I gone this long without you?” he pants, twirling my curls around his finger.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” I whisper.