Page 65 of Watch Me


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"What order do they go in, Jude?"

Jude shook his head again. But his body seemed to relax just the smallest bit which led me to believe I was on to something.

“Which one is first?" I asked.

"The red one. The Porsche hardtop. It’s the one I was holding when they found me.”

I desperately wanted to know what he meant by that but I knew in my gut that I couldn’t deviate from whatever strange ritual Jude needed to go through in order to calm his mind.

"Okay, which one is next?"

Jude let out a soft sigh and pressed himself further into my chest. "The black Impala. Mrs. Klein gave it to me so I’d have more than just the Porsche to play with when I had to go."

I had no idea who Mrs. Klein was but instead of asking, I said, “The orange one came next, right?”

"The General Lee. It’s The Dukes of Hazzard car. Mr. O'Brien liked older TV shows. I always tried to be quiet when we watched them, but I guess I wasn't quiet enough. He liked that car so he must have liked me a little too, right? Or he wouldn’t have given it to me when I left."

Understanding began to dawn as Jude moved on to the next car by himself. Whoever had given him the cars were people who hadn't stayed in his life. From what I could gather, some of the cars had been parting gifts. But if that were the case, why would he keep them? Why would he make a habit of looking at them every night before he went to sleep? Why would they have such control over him now?

Those questions rolled around in my head as Jude continued to describe the last two cars on his own. He again named individuals as he described each car. By the time he finished with the last one, he was noticeably calmer.

I rolled us so I was on my back and Jude was lying across my chest. His head felt heavy as he mumbled something I couldn't make out and then I heard the soft snores that were proof he'd finally fallen asleep. I knew I could easily drive myself crazy with the unanswered questions about Jude’s behavior, but I chose to focus on the man himself.

I loved the way he felt against me, like his body had been made to fit only mine. When we’d left his apartment, he'd already been dressed in his pajamas, which were basically just a pair of sweats and a comfy-looking T-shirt. That meant as I held him, I had access to his soft skin. One of the legs on his sweats had ridden up so that the hair on his leg was rubbing against my own. I figured he’d washed his hair at some point before he’d discovered there had been an intruder because his hair smelled of coconut.

My unruly body couldn't help but react to his nearness. The loose boxer shorts I was wearing did nothing to help control my body's response to Jude and things were only made worse by the fact that I'd taken my shirt off right before going to sleep and hadn't thought to put it back on before getting into bed with Jude. That meant his lips were pretty much brushing my skin every time he exhaled. The self-imposed torture lasted for several hours because having Jude sprawled out on top of me didn’t exactly make for a restful sleep.

At some point, though, I did drift off because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to a stream of sunlight filtering across the bed and Jude's soft lips pressed against my sternum. If he moved even the slightest bit…

The man must've heard my thoughts because he did exactly that just before his mouth closed over my nipple and he began teasing me with his tongue. I had no clue whether he was asleep or awake, but my body didn't care. My fingers fisted in his hair as a low moan escaped my lips. Another flick of Jude's tongue over my nipple had me seeing stars and I knew at that point that there was no way the man could be asleep and perform such a deliberate act. I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or disappointed. Relieved because I definitely wanted him to be aware of what he was doing to me and disappointed because I knew I’d have to stop it. Not only was Jude still my client, he was also extremely vulnerable. I couldn't and wouldn't take advantage of that.

No matter what my body was telling me to do.

The problem was, while I was trying to convince my own body to get the message, Jude was making it nearly impossible for it to hear anything because Jude moved his mouth from one nipple to the other at the same time that he shifted his body so he was lying almost fully on top of me. I told myself to push him away, to tell him to stop, but my hands weren't in the mood to listen. One remained fastened on the back of his head while the other settled on the curve of his ass.

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