Page 132 of Sweet Venom

Aw, don’t go hurting my feelings like that. Just think about it. I’ll see you around campus!

I’m staring at his text as I walk into the living area. Not sure why Preston seems hell-bent on getting close to me, but I’d rather stay away from anything related to Jude. Starting with the man himself.

“Who are you texting?”

I bump against a wall. A warm, tall, and broad wall.

My eyes widen, the phone nearly falling from my grip, as I stare at Jude. My neck hurts from how much I’m craning to look at him as he grabs my elbow, steadying me.

He looks so beautiful in jeans, a black T-shirt, and his full-sleeve tattoos that are on display.

“W-what are you doing here?” My mouth feels dry, and my belly tightens as his intoxicating scent triggers memories from last night.

“Brought some breakfast.” He motions at the table that’s stacked full of pancakes, eggs, toast, and three types of juices—orange, strawberry, and green. Who drinks three types of juices in the morning?

Jude, apparently.

I ignore the flutter in my chest as I step back, then wince, because, really, I feel him inside me with every move. And the fact that he’s actually standing in front of me fills me with flashes of warmth.

“Why did you bring breakfast?” I ask.

“Why not?” He glares at my phone. “And you’re not changing the subject. Who are you texting?”

“So now I can’t text anyone without telling you?”

He narrows his eyes the slightest bit. “Preferably.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I walk past him, mainly to escape the trap of his intense gaze and the way my body is reacting to that gaze. “Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“You’re following my hockey schedule?” There’s slight amusement in his tone.

“I don’t have to. You and the Vipers are kind of everywhere in this town.”

“Apparently not everywhere, because you still haven’t come to see me play live. You should do that sometime.”

“And watch you beat up people up close and personal? No, thanks.”

He narrows his eyes but says nothing.

I pull out a chair and even my arms hurt, probably from when he held them in a tight grip behind my back and fucked me on the edge of the bed. “This is too much food. I could’ve cooked instead.”

Jude strides to the chair across from me, watching me with his head cocked to the side. “I figured you’d be too sore to move properly, let alone cook.”

“That’s not—” I wince when my ass meets the chair, and I have to hold on to the table for balance.

“You were saying?” Amusement laces his voice, and a small smile appears.

I feel spoiled by his smiles, and I can’t help but think this will backfire exponentially.

“Whose fault is that?” I grumble. “You’re the one who can’t have sex like normal people.”

“Neither of us are normal people, sweetheart. You know that, your body knows that, and even your journal knows that.” He swallows half a boiled egg. “Will I find other fantasies after last night?”

My cheeks heat, but I spread butter on my toast, pretending I’m not actually dying of embarrassment. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“The fantasies, Violet. The ones I’m putting so much effort into making come true. Shouldn’t I get some recognition?”

“Why would you?”