Chapter 22 #3
“Your footwork is tragic,” I inform him as he attempts some dramatic spin that nearly sends us both crashing into the bench. “You’re an incredible singer, Jude, but you must work on the footwork.”
“I won’t need to. You can be my backup dancer since you do it so well.”
I snort as he pulls me close, swaying us slowly now. His forehead rests against mine, his smile softening. The sunset burns behind him, outlining his silhouette in gold as the wind tosses his hair across his eyes. He looks so alive. So bright. Like he’s made of wildfire and music and reckless joy.
He’s the love of my life.
My chest aches with how much he means to me. Around us, voices rise as other people sing along, laughter carrying across the cliffs. For a few perfect minutes, it feels like the entire world is suspended in this moment—strangers united by music, sunset, and salt air.
Then the sun finally disappears. Applause ripples through the crowd as people gather their things, pointing toward the wall of dark clouds rolling closer. The wind is colder now with the promise of rain. Within minutes, the cliff begins to empty. Soon, it’s just us.
The first raindrop lands on my cheek. Then another.
Jude tilts his face toward the sky like he’s greeting an old friend. The rain starts as a soft mist before turning into a steady drizzle, dampening his hair and darkening his hoodie.
“Babe,” I warn, laughing nervously as droplets soak through my dress. “We should probably—”
The sky opens. Rain crashes down in a sudden, drenching sheet.
“Jude!” I shriek, grabbing his hand and tugging toward the parking lot. “Hurry!”
He doesn’t move. Instead, he pulls me back, laughter bursting out of him, loud and wild and completely unbothered by the storm soaking us to the bone.
“You’re insane!” I shout over the rain.
“But you love that about me! When life hands you beautiful moments, you embrace them.”
Before I can argue with his constant witty and corny philosophies, he kisses me.
It’s messy and breathless, and rainwater drips down both our faces as his hands cup my jaw, pulling me closer.
Thunder rumbles somewhere over the ocean, vibrating through the ground beneath our feet.
My fingers fist into his soaked shirt as I kiss him back, tasting rain and salt and him.
“Car,” I mumble against his mouth, half laughing. "I don't want to get struck by lightning."
“Fine,” he murmurs, though he doesn’t let go right away.
We sprint through the downpour, shoes splashing through puddles, both of us slipping and nearly crashing into the Xterra as he fumbles with the keys.
We tumble into the back seat, laughter echoing inside the cramped space.
Rain pounds against the roof in a deafening rhythm, windows fogging instantly from our heat.
“You look like a drowned raccoon,” he laughs, brushing soaked hair out of my face.
“Well,” I gasp. “You look worse.”
“You have the most terrible comebacks, you know.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling as I swing my leg over his lap, straddling him. His hand suddenly finds the back of my neck, pulling me into another passionate kiss. His other arm wraps around me, keeping me anchored in his lap. His lips are so soft and perfect that I whimper into his mouth.
His hands move down, pushing the soaked fabric of my dress higher.
His fingers find the clasp of my bra at the back, fumbling for a second before it gives way.
The straps go slack, but he doesn’t pull it off.
He just pushes the neckline of my dress and the cups down, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, already hard and sensitive from the cold and the closeness.
A soft sigh escapes me. I shift on his lap, feeling the hard ridge of him pressing insistently against me through his jeans. The denim is rough and wet. I grind down, rolling my hips, and he lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the car seat.
“Emma,” he murmurs, his eyes closing for a second. When they open, the hazel is dark, intense. “Here? You sure?”
“Yes,” I whisper, leaning in to capture his mouth with mine. This kiss is different from all the others. It’s slow. Deep. His tongue slides against mine, a lazy, exploring dance that sends warmth pooling low in my belly.
His hands leave my breasts, moving to the hem of my dress.
He gathers the wet fabric in his fists and pulls, tugging it up and over my head.
The movement is awkward in the cramped backseat, our elbows bumping the windows, but we don’t stop kissing.
The dress ends up in a soggy heap on the seat beside us.
The cool air raises goosebumps along my skin.
His hands are everywhere then, smoothing over my shoulders, my back, my ass.
He breaks the kiss, his lips traveling down my neck, sucking at the pulse point there. His teeth graze my skin, and I gasp, my fingers tangling in his damp, tousled hair. He mouths his way lower, over my collarbone, until his lips close over one nipple.
The sensation is incredible. His mouth is hot and wet, his tongue circling the tight peak before he bites hard. A sharp cry leaves my lips, lost in the sound of the rain. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, his hands holding my hips steady as I writhe above him.
I can’t wait. My hands fly to his belt buckle, my fingers clumsy with need. I get it open, the metal clinking softly. The button of his jeans. The zipper. I shove the denim down over his hips, just enough. He helps, lifting his hips to push them lower. His boxers follow, freeing himself.
I wrap my hand around him, stroking from base to tip, feeling him jump in my grip. He hisses, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, baby.”
I position myself above him, one hand braced on the seat behind his head. I look down, meeting his gaze. The storm flashes outside, lighting his face in brief, stark relief—the sharp line of his jaw, the dark intensity in his eyes. I lower myself, slowly, taking just the head of his cock inside me.
We both groan. I’m so wet and ready for him, but he’s big. I sink down another inch, as his hands tighten around my hips.
“Easy,” he grits out, but I see the strain in his neck, the way he’s holding himself back. He wants to make sure I’m okay, but he also wants to fuck me senseless. I don’t want easy. I drop the rest of the way, sheathing him completely inside me in one smooth, deep motion.
His groan is sudden and loud, my own joining his.
I stay there for a moment, letting my body adjust. Then I start to move.
I rise up, almost letting him slip out, then sink back down, grinding my hips.
The angle is perfect. The head of his cock rubs against that sweet, sensitive spot inside me with every descent.
My lips part, my eyes rolling back at the pleasure sparking inside me.
“Jesus,” he breathes, his eyes glued to where we’re joined. His hands move from my hips to my ass, guiding my rhythm. “You feel…god, you feel amazing, baby.”
I set the pace. The world outside is a blur of rain-streaked glass and darkness. Inside, it’s all heat and the ragged sound of our breathing. My thighs burn, but I don’t care. I don't care when I see the look of absolute destruction on his beautiful face.
He takes over suddenly, one hand tightening on my ass as he starts thrusting up into me, meeting my downward strokes with powerful drives of his own.
His other hand rests on top of my head, protecting me from banging it on the roof of the car.
The rhythm changes, becoming more urgent and demanding.
The force of his upward thrusts sends jolts of pleasure through me, my breasts bouncing with the motion.
“Look at me,” he all but whimpers. "I love seeing your beautiful face."
I force my eyes open to see that his gaze is locked on mine.
Rain drips from his hairline. He’s beautiful like this, wild and undone, completely focused on me.
“You’re mine,” he says, the words a low, guttural promise.
He punctuates each one with a deep, grinding thrust. “Forever, my favorite girl.”
“I’m yours,” I gasp, the confession tumbling out easily. “Forever.”
A savage satisfaction flashes in his eyes.
He sits up suddenly, wrapping his arm around me, crushing me to his chest. The new angle is even deeper.
He’s fully in control now, pistoning up into me from below, his hips a relentless machine.
The headrest digs into my back, the entire car seeming to rock with our rhythm.
One of his hands slides between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit.
He rubs tight, fast circles exactly where I need it.
The dual stimulation is too much, and my climax crashes over me without warning.
I cry out as waves of pleasure tear through me, my inner muscles clamping down on his cock.
I shake uncontrollably, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
Feeling me come triggers his own release. With a rough, broken groan, he buries his face in my neck and drives up into me one last, final time, holding himself deep as he empties himself inside me. I moan at the way his whole body goes rigid and then slack against me.
He pulls me back with him in a sweaty, breathless heap. The storm still rages. The windows are completely fogged, sealing us in our own private world.
He nuzzles my neck, his lips brushing my damp skin. “I love you,” he whispers, the words soft and soaked in satisfaction.
“I love you, too,” I murmur back, my voice hoarse.
He studies me like he’s memorizing every detail, fingers tracing along my jaw, my neck, and my shoulders. He always touches me with so much care. His eyes are two depthless hazel pools. I feel like I’m falling into his soul with the way he’s looking at me.
My Jude.
~*~