Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Morning, sweetie.”
“Morning.”
I break away from her to hug Jude from behind. He’s stiff at first but relaxes in my hold. This past week has been stressful, to say the least. Dealing with the aftermath of Sean, both me and Jude have been spending our fair share of time at the police station and with our lawyers, hand-selected and approved by Hugo.
Yes, I, Tate Prince, have an attorney—the best of the best—who is helping me with my case against Sean. It’s surreal to think he’s actually going to be punished for the monster he is.
When he was arrested later on the day of the fire, I cried like a baby. It was mostly relief and happiness for myself that I could finally breathe easy. But I also cried for his family. I’m sure his wife was shocked and humiliated by what Sean had done. Their girls are probably confused and miss their daddy. The whole situation sucks.
“You’re thinking loud,” Jude murmurs, his body rumbling from the vibration of his deep voice. “You okay?”
I pull away and step beside him to watch him with his task of icing the cinnamon rolls. “I’m fine. Just thinking about the girls.”
He glances my way, blue eyes tender and probing as he studies me. God, I still can’t get used to seeing his handsome face without the mask. Sure, he still hides in his hoodie, but at least he’s facing everyone with no mask to hide behind.
“They’ll be fine,” Jude assures me. “It’s not for you to worry about.”
I lean my head against his shoulder, smiling so wide it hurts. He’s such a sweet, caring man—something I failed to see at first. Now that we’ve opened up all our wounds and shared with each other, I can see who he is to his very core.
A good, gentle man.
My man.
“I’m the one who’s worried,” he grumbles, gesturing at the cinnamon rolls. “Violet made me do these all by myself. I probably messed them up.”
Violet laughs from her place at the stove. “You did them perfectly, hon. They’re made with love. I told you that’s the secret ingredient in everything I make.”
I tilt my head up to look at Jude, who grins at me. A couple of days ago, he asked Violet if she would show him how to make his favorite apple pie. Then he wanted to know how to make Wyatt’s beloved blackberry cobbler. Now it’s cinnamon rolls, which happen to be my favorites. Seeing him in the kitchen, truly enjoying himself as he learns to bake things near and dear to his heart, is such a wonderful thing to witness.
“Bring those delicious cinnamon rolls to the table before your grandpa has a conniption fit,” Violet orders to Jude. “Tate, sweetie, grab the orange juice from the fridge. It’s time to eat.”
As soon as she leaves for the dining room, I take a moment to steal a deep, filthy kiss that’s only for Jude’s and my eyes. By the time we finish, his eyes aren’t so sweet anymore. He watches me intently, the electric blue crackling with heat and desire.
“Later,” I promise, shooting him a saucy look. “We’ll pick this back up soon.”
His palms cup my ass and he dips down to nip at my ear. “Not soon enough, sweet boy.”
“Look at me,” Jude commands, his strong hand around my throat as he pins me to his bed. “I want you to see how horny you make me.”
I’d thought sex was hot the first time we did it, but being able to see him has been a whole other level of awesome. His expressions are so vivid. He also smiles and smirks a whole heck of a lot more than I realized when he was hiding behind his mask.
“You’re beautiful, Jude,” I murmur. “So beautiful.”
He shudders at my praise but doesn’t look away. Since the day Sean kidnapped me and we ultimately made it out of that harrowing situation, I’ve been making sure to give Jude more praise. Not just about how handsome I think he looks, but also how kind and gentle and smart and compassionate he is. Now I can add fantastic baker to the list of compliments too because those cinnamon rolls were nearly orgasmic.
Jude’s powerful hand presses against my throat. I find myself hissing as my breath grows more labored. Whenever he does this, and I relinquish control knowing he isn’t going to truly hurt me like my ex, I come hard. Like really, really hard. It feels kinky in a safe way because I know all I need to do is tap on Jude’s arm when I’ve had enough and he’ll back off.
Who knew this sort of thing could be so sexy?
I tap at his arm, not really needing air, but needing him. He releases my neck to spear his fingers into my hair. We both moan as he starts recklessly driving his dick deep inside of my ass over and over, hitting my prostate just so perfectly that—