Page 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

FORD

That’s all it takes.

I sign my death warrant.

I’m going to hell, but those three words are all the encouragement I need.

My lips devour hers. God, they’re everything I imagined and more. Soft, supple, and somehow elegant in the way they move against mine. And the taste—fuck me, the taste—strawberries and the lingering hint of her lemon lime soda.

And then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I’m actually kissing her.

And she’s kissing me back.

Juliet fucking Cruz is kissing me.

She inhales against my lips and eagerly wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, deepening our connection. An involuntary moan rips from my throat, and my hands grip her ribs just high enough my thumbs brush the underside of her breasts.

“Love,” I pant. “I need you to tell me what you want. How far are you willing to take this, because when it comes to you, I'm greedy. I’ll take everything you give me, but I won’t have you giving more than you’re willing for my sake.”

Her chest rises and falls with each heaving breath. “Is it selfish that I want you to make me come?”

I thought I was dead before, but now she’s just twisting the proverbial knife and sealing the deal. How is it even possible I’ve ended up here?

“Oh no, Juliet. Making you come would be a fucking gift.” One I don’t deserve, but will gladly take. I lean in and nip her earlobe. “My only question is, would you like tocome by my fingers, mouth, or cock?”

A shiver wracks her small frame, and I relish the fact my words have that effect on her.

“Fingers and mouth, please.”

Fuck, I love when she asks for what she wants. I love it even more when it means I’m on the edge of getting to drown in her sweet fucking pussy.

My lips lift to a smirk. “As you wish.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should take my time with her, but all logic has gone out the window, and I’m only thinking about granting her request.

Eating the little space left between us, I gently press her against her closed bedroom door and capture her mouth once more in a searing kiss, inhaling the appreciative moan that slips free. She’s intoxicating—the heat of her skin, the taste of her lips, the way her gentle curves feel against my hard planes—I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough.

My hands trace their way down her body, across the swell of her breast to the hollow of her waist, only stopping when they reach the hem of her shorts.

“Ford,” she whispers.

“Yes, love, say my name,” I rasp against her lips before leaving a trail of kisses down her jaw to the crook of her neck. “I only want to hear my name when you come.”

She cranes her head to the side giving me better access, and moans. “Please, Ford.”

Fuck. The way this woman has me wrapped around her little finger. There’s not a chance in hell I would deny her a thing when she begs so eloquently.

I smile against her neck before allowing myself to fall to my knees so I can worship her like the goddess she is.

Juliet sucks in a sharp breath when I press my nose to her belly and slide down to the apex of her thighs, inhaling deep. Sweet and alluring, the scent of her has my dick throbbing against my zipper.

“Juliet,” I croon. “Are you as wet for me as you were when you slipped your dainty little fingers in this perfect cunt?”

“More,” she whispers. I watch as her thighs clench together, and all I can think is how amazing they’ll feel doing that on either side of my head.

I press a kiss through the soft fabric where I imagine her clit is as I delve my hands beneath the soft fabric, grateful they’re loose enough for me to tease. She squirms under my touch as I explore her thighs with my fingertips. “Juliet,” I growl, barely keeping it together when I discover there isn’t another layer of fabric where I expect. “Please tell me you’re wearing panties.”

“That would be a lie.” I don’t have to look up to know she’s looking down at me with a shit-eating grin. “And you told me you wanted nothing but honesty.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter as I rip my hands from beneath her shorts, and tear open the button so I can see for myself that she’s telling the truth.

I vaguely hear her gasp as I yank down her shorts in one swift stroke, because it’s overshadowed by the whole body groan I let loose at the sight of her pussy. It’s a museum-worthy work of fucking art—that is, if I’d be so inclined to let anyone else see her this way, which to be clear, I’m not. Hell, if I have it my way, no other man will ever marvel at the way her gorgeous tan stomach gives way to a small trimmed triangle of hair just above her clit.

In a moment of what I can only describe as lust filled bravery, Juliet steps out of her shorts and spreads her thighs, leaving just enough room for me to nestle between them.

“Is this okay?” she asks, but what her uncertainty is really saying is: I need you to reassure me I’m okay.

Pride swells in my chest.

She doesn’t know it, but she’s taking a stand. She’s letting me in. She’s asking all the right questions.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Juliet?” I hook one of my arms under her knee and lift her leg over my shoulder. It not only gives me better access, but also tilts her hips so her pussy is at my lips. I tease her glistening entrance with little puffs of air. “You are a goddamn work of art, and I can’t wait to taste you.”

Before she can think too hard on my words, I press my nose against her clit and tilt my neck so that when I lick her slit from bottom to top, my eyes arelocked with hers.

“Fuuuck,” I groan, unable to hold it back, and Juliet lets out a long whimper followed by my name and other unintelligible words.

If the smell of her arousal was enough to turn me on, the taste has me damn near coming in my pants. Yesterday I would have told you my favorite dessert was chocolate ice cream, but today my answer is forever changed. I’ll just take a side of Juliet after every meal.

She thrusts her hips forward, and I devour her like a man starved, making it my mission to collect every drop of her desire. But not even that is enough. Ever the greedy bastard, I want her release too. I want to be able to look up at her when I’m finished, her come dripping down my chin, and tell her I’ll never be the same again now that I’ve tasted her.

Lost in a lust driven haze, I suck her clit into my mouth. She screams my name, I hook her other leg over my shoulder, leaving her supported by the door and my mouth alone. I need more. I want everything she has to give. Growling against her fluttering pussy, I dig my fingers into the flesh of her hips and my tongue flicks staccato beats against her clit, hard and fast.

Juliet’s entire body goes rigid, and at first, I think it’s because she’s close. But when she doesn’t move—doesn’t breathe—I realize it’s not in the I’m-going-to-come-all-over-your-face kind of way. Silence eats the space between us, and I immediately stop my attack on her clit and pull back so I can see her face.

Her eyes are wide and filled with tears, and her jaw is clenched so tight it’s a miracle her teeth haven’t cracked.

“Juliet?” I whisper in panic as I gently set her feet back on the ground. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“I don’t want you to stop.” She shakes her head, the first of her tears falling. “I want this. I just?—”

“Love, you’re trembling.” Fear and concern lace my voice. I stand and move to grab a blanket to wrap around her, but Juliet’s hands dart out and she closes her fingers around my forearms, stopping me.

“Don’t go. I just need a minute.”

I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself, but when I search her face, I read her indecision like a book. There’s no doubt that something I did sent her into a spiral, and I can’t go on without knowing what.

“I’m just going to grab a blanket so you’re not standing here half naked.”

She nods, and I half expect her to follow me to the couch to sit. When she doesn’t, I grab the oversized blanket and return to her, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t want to sit?”

She shakes her head.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“I—it’s stupid. I—just give me a minute and we can?—”

I sigh and step forward, carefully pulling her into a hug, leaving plenty of room for her to push me away, but she surprises me and leans into my arms.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers against my chest.

“What? No—” I tuck my thumb under her chin and tip her head back, meeting her eyes when I tell her, “Juliet, you don’t have to be sorry for not being okay.”

She shakes her head free and her eyes find the ground. “I just thought cutting the strings wouldn’t give him power over me.”

It’s not an explanation, but it’s a step in the right direction.

“This is about Tyler?”

A choked inhale followed by a soft sniffle are the only indications I get that I’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I don’t want you to think less of me because I can’t see that you’re not him.” Every word is laced with damage and dripping with pain.

“I could never think less of you, Juliet. Especially when I know he was a fucking bastard that didn’t deserve you.” I want to tell her all the ways I wish I could go back in time and take her away from him. The number of nights I’ve stayed up replaying every conversation with Tyler, from the age of sixteen to the weeks before he died, looking for some indication of what was really going on.

Juliet cranes her neck to look at me—fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “Can’t we just go back to you eating my pussy?”

I chuckle. “While I love hearing those filthy words coming from your mouth, this is just as much a lesson in dating as coming on my face is.”

“It is?”

Nodding, I wipe away her tears. “Absolutely. In any relationship, you have to have open communication. Even when it’s hard to talk about. And especially when it involves a history of trauma.”

Juliet scoffs. “Is that what I have?”

“I don’t know.” I trace small reassuring circles on her lower back. “Only you can tell me that—and I understand if you aren’t ready to—but I won’t risk continuing if it means I’m going to hurt you.”

“Are you always this understanding?”

I huff a laugh. “Not even close. But with you…it’s different. I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

“It’s different for me with you too,” she admits. “And I do feel comfortable with you.” Her lips twist as she chews on the inside of her cheek, like she’s trying to work through something in her mind.

Minutes pass and I just hold her.

It strikes me that I’ve never been able to sit in silence, but with Juliet I’m just happy to be her safe space. She needs this, and honestly, maybe I do too. I’ve been holding tight to all the strands of my life for so long, always looking to the next thing on the list, the next problem to be fixed. I never really stop to allow myself the time to be present and soak in the moment.

The way Juliet fits against me.

The smell of her floral shampoo and the hint of arousal in the air.

The bravery she’s shown in allowing me to share in her vulnerability.

I commit it all to memory.

Juliet's head dips in three short nods, and she confidently says, “I trust you, and I want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” I whisper, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “Are you sure you don’t want to go sit?”

“No. It’s easier like this. Your heartbeat against my ear is calming, and I like that when I’m in your arms, you can’t look right through me.”

“Is that what I do?” I want to tell her that mostly she reads like an open book regardless if I can see her face, but I like having her in my arms so I’m not going to argue.

“It’s unnerving, but also one of my favorite things about you.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then.”

She takes a deep breath, finding the courage I admire so much. “It was when you grabbed my hips.”

“Was I too rough?”

“It’s not that—I mean it is, but not because—I don’t mind it rough usually, but when Tyler would come home drunk or angry, he’d always want sex. And when he did, he would always dig his fingers into my hips hard enough that he left bruises. When you—” She tips her head back, and I see the panic in her blown pupils. “I know you would never, but the sensation caught me off guard and pulled me out of the pleasure of your mouth on me. It’s like the two sensations couldn’t possibly exist together. I just—” She lets out a frustrated sigh. “He doesn’t get to take his from me. He doesn’t get to break me.”

“You are so far from broken, Juliet.” I reach up and cup her jaw, running my thumb over her trembling lower lip, willing her to feel the honesty through my touch. “You’ve got more bravery in your pinky than most of the men I play with have in their entire bodies. The problem is you think you have to be invincible to prove you’ve overcome everything you’ve been through, and that’s just not true.”

“But what if I’m never normal again? What if I can’t be with a man without panicking?”

I’ve said it a million times, but each time I mean it a little bit more. I am glad Tyler is dead.

“Normal is overrated, and while I think you should probably talk to a professional about this, when it comes to dating, I can promise you any man who is worth your time will respect your boundaries and still have no problem making you come.”

“They will?” The hope in her voice kills me. Like she doesn’t quite believe me, but hopes maybe I’m right.

Which is why, once again, I’m more than willing to be the damn guinea pig, even if this all ends with her breaking my heart when she walks away.

“I’d be more than happy to show you.”

“You still want to—even after I ruined the mood?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask if that was something my stepbrother did. Punish her for speaking up when she was uncomfortable, but I stop myself. He doesn’t deserve a single thought more from her tonight.

I reach up and take her face in my hands and brush my lips against hers. “Juliet, let me be very clear. I will never not want to make you come.”

“Then show me.”