Ch.16: Seducing the Rockstar

Hours later, after Elle had gone, Jude finally came home, and by that point, I was very drunk.

My phone hadn't stopped, but the more I drank, the less I worried about how everything had changed so suddenly and what this meant from now on.

When Jude walked through the front door, his curls pulled back in a small knot, I tried to jump off my stool to meet him and almost ended up face-down on the floor.

"You're home," I cried, steadying myself on the edge of the bar.

Jude slung his leather jacket onto the stool next to me, and glanced ruefully at his phone. "Yeah, and I obviously owe you an apology. I didn't think everything would kick off this quickly."

"Neither did I."

Jude looked around, and his forehead crinkled. "Uh, Camden? Why are there clothes everywhere?"

I blinked.

Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about those.

At some point – I couldn't remember when – Elle had encouraged me to try on my new outfits, and they'd ended up on the floor afterwards. And on the breakfast bar. And the sofa. A lacy bra dangled from the corner of the fridge, and I had no idea how it had got there.

"Redecorating," I explained. "Elle and I thought the loft could do with a new look."

Jude lifted the bra with one finger, and smiled. "I like your taste in decor," he said. His smile faded. "We should probably talk about what's happened."

I thought about mentioning Neil's visit, then decided against it. Jude looked exhausted, like someone had scrubbed away some of the rockstar sparkle, and I didn't know if that was just due to the album, or if our marriage going public had thrown up other problems for him. He was the one who'd made it public, but as he'd said, neither of us had expected things to take off this fast.

"I need a drink first," I said.

Jude headed to the fridge, then paused and picked up a cropped T-shirt that was draped over the yellow roses. Several petals fell to the countertop.

"Sorry," I said.

"No worries. Annie replaces them every couple of days anyway," Jude said.

"I really never imagined you as a flowers kind of guy," I commented.

Jude grinned. "I'm not. I don't give a shit about them, but Annie thinks they brighten up the place."

My brain stumbled a little. "Wait, so you don't ask her for them?"

"Not my thing. One day she turned up with this vase and a bunch of flowers, told me they'd look good in here, and she's been topping them up ever since."

"Doesn't that seem a little weird to you?"

"Not really." Jude fetched two beers from the fridge and handed one to me. He didn't say a word about how much of his expensive gin Elle and I had chugged. "Let's go up to the roof," he said.

I wanted to pursue the Annie thing with him, because it was weird, especially in light of what had happened earlier, but working out what we did now that our secret was out was more important.

I followed Jude up to the terrace.

The fresh air hit me like a slap, and I wobbled, reaching for the nearest chair for support.

"You okay?" Jude said, steadying me.

"Yup."

I tried to sit gracefully, but instead I collapsed into the chair like a melting snowman. Very sexy.

Jude sat opposite me. His rings glittered on his fingers, wrapped around the neck of his bottle.

"I probably shouldn't have done what I did," he said.

"What do you mean?"

Jude sighed and rubbed his jaw. "We agreed that we'd keep this secret, and I fucked that up."

"For the best reason," I pointed out.

He acknowledged that with a slight tilt of his head. "I couldn't help it. Standing there, talking to that little prick, you looked like someone had kicked you in the crotch."

I snort-laughed before I could stop myself. "I'm glad you said the crotch and not the heart."

"You didn't give him your heart so he couldn't have kicked you there," Jude said.

His words were light-hearted but his tone was deadly serious, and I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat.

"Jude Scott, are you actually being serious for once?" I said.

He flashed me a sharp smile. "No."

I wasn't convinced. "I'm glad you did it," I said.

"You don't know what you've let yourself in for," he said.

"Then I'll learn."

Jude took a long gulp of his beer. "You realise we'll have to make official statements, shit like that?"

"I guessed as much."

"How do you feel about that?"

I shrugged. "The genie's out of the bottle. We can't stuff him back in even if we wanted to."

"That's not what I asked," he said, giving me a wry look.

"Honestly? I'm going to find it overwhelming and scary and probably exciting too."

Jude ran his thumb along the lip of his beer bottle. "I half-thought I'd come home to find you gone."

"I'm still here."

"You don't have to be."

I frowned. "What?"

"I'm just saying, you don't have to be here if you don't want to. If this all gets too much, you can walk away."

"I don't want to."

Jude said nothing.

My skin prickled. "I'm confused, do you want me to leave?"

"I just want you to understand that things could get a bit crazy."

"That's not what I asked," I said, mirroring his words from a few moments ago.

Jude grinned again, but it seemed hollow this time, like he was performing for a camera. I didn't like it. "Why would I want you to leave?"

"You tell me," I said, my hand tightening around my own beer.

He chuckled and shook his head.

"Is this just a fucking game to you?" I asked.

Jude stared out over the lights of London. "You're having fun, aren't you?"

I put down my bottle hard enough that beer foamed over the top. "You wanted to talk about this, and now you're trying to turn it into a joke? Maybe don't do that."

Jude didn't look away from the view.

"Okay, here's the thing, Jude. You said you never take anything seriously, but you're also the one who wanted to give this marriage a try, so at some point, you'll have to take it seriously, whether you want to or not. So how about we cut the crap and be honest with each other. If you don't want me here anymore, just tell me. Do you want me to leave?"

My heart was beating wildly in my throat because I really, truly didn't know what he would say.

"No," Jude said quietly.

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

Jude rubbed his jaw again. "Look, I . . ." He broke off, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

I waited.

"I like having you around, okay?" Jude still didn't look at me, but there was a raw quality in his voice, like an open wound.

"Was that so hard to say?"

He finally looked at me, and this time his grin was real. "Like pulling fucking teeth, actually."

"Why do men always hide their emotions?" I muttered.

"Why do women always talk about their feeeeeelings?" Jude said.

I wanted to give him a hard look, but his eyes were dancing with mischief, and his curls were coming loose from their knot, and his mouth had shaped a smirk that made me want to lick him all over.

I stood up and held out my hand. "Dance with me."

Jude put down his beer. I started to sway as he approached me, imagining music playing, then he pulled me so hard against him that I gasped.

"You're cute when you're drunk," he murmured, gazing down at me. Sometimes I forgot how tall he was.

"You're always cute," I said.

Only 'cute' didn't begin to describe him. This close to him, I could see every detail of his face – his dark, angled eyebrows that would have been too thick on someone with a more feminine face but were perfect for him, those brown eyes, as warm and rich as melted chocolate, the way his cheekbones looked even more sculpted when his shaggy curls were pulled back.

Held against him like this, I could feel every inch of his hard, muscled body.

Every inch.

My mouth went dry and my pulse started to race.

I'd never forget that first time I'd seen him, strutting on stage in Angels & Demons' first music video, tight leather pants hugging his hips, his chiselled chest on full display. He hadn't had the Reaper tattoo then, and his jungle sleeve was only partially finished, but everything about him had still been larger than life. I'd known then that there was something special about him. The band were brilliant, but Jude had a particular indefinable quality, a magnetic je nais se quois that would lead him to conquer the music world, and break millions of hearts across the globe.

But I'd never imagined that I'd be dancing on a rooftop, in his arms, his ring on my finger.

I'd never appreciated that, however gorgeous he was on a TV screen, he was so much more in real life.

"Kiss me," I whispered.

I'd been attracted to this man since I'd first laid eyes on him, but that was a fan crush. The attraction that I felt now was so much deeper, so much more real, so much more brimming with potential.

I needed more from him than we currently had.

Jude's lips met mine, and it was like being shocked with a wire. My whole body came alive. He kissed me like he was starving for me, like I was the air he needed to breathe, and his mouth was fierce and hot and wild. I'd never been kissed like this by anyone. I hadn't realised it was possible for a kiss to be this passionate, this breath-taking.

Jude pushed me back toward the wall, and I eagerly went. My hip bumped a hard edge, and something smashed on the floor, but neither of us paused. I almost tripped over a plant pot and Jude shoved it out of the way with his foot. It toppled over with a thud.

My body was liquid, slick and aching. My knees were weak. My skin was on fire.

I hit the wall, Jude pressing hard against me, and my entire world had narrowed to the feeling of his mouth, his tongue. I wanted to feel that magic mouth on my breasts, between my legs, fucking everywhere. I was dizzy with the taste of him.

More. I needed more.

My fingers dug into Jude's biceps – they felt like steel. When his lips moved from my mouth to my neck, sucking the shape of my pulse, I turned my head and bit his ear.

Just as I'd never been kissed like this, I'd never felt this kind of burning, roaring need.

I slipped my hand between us, eagerly reaching for the top button on Jude's jeans, and he made a low, rough noise in his throat.

"Fuck, Camden," he whispered.

I slid my hand past his waistband, but my fingers had barely grazed the warm head of his cock, when Jude grabbed my wrist and pushed it away, out of his jeans.

"Wait, stop," he said.

His breathing was heavy and ragged, but his grip was like iron on my wrist.

"We can't do this," he said.

"What's wrong?"

He closed his eyes for a long moment, still breathing heavily. "You're drunk, Camden."

"I'm fine," I insisted.

Jude braced his other hand on the wall beside me, and hung his head. His hair had come completely loose from its knot, and I couldn't resist running my fingers through all those curls.

"Don't," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Seriously, Jude, I'm okay. I want this." I reached up and ran my tongue up the line of his throat.

Jude shuddered. "So do I."

"It doesn't feel like you do," I muttered, slumping against the wall. He still hadn't let go of my wrist.

"Are you kidding me?" Jude demanded, his eyes flashing. He yanked my hand forward and pressed it to the bulge in his jeans. "Does that feel like I don't want you? I'm hard as a fucking rock, but you've had a difficult day and a lot to drink, and I'm not sure you're thinking clearly right now."

"I wasn't thinking clearly when you married me," I pointed out.

"No, but I was blackout drunk too. Now I'm not." He let go of my wrist, and pressed his thumb to my lower lip. "I want you so fucking much, you have no idea." He closed his eyes again. "But not like this."

"I'm not even that drunk," I mumbled.

"You're leaning on a tree," Jude said.

"Huh?" I turned, and almost lost my balance. Jude caught me as I fell forward. "Huh," I said again.

I hadn't realised it, but I'd stopped leaning against the wall and had started sagging against a potted tree. If I'd been even a little bigger, it would have toppled over.

Jude shifted his weight, and I realised that I was completely leaning on him now, my legs having apparently turned into spaghetti. Maybe I was drunker than I'd thought.

"Let's get you to bed," Jude said.

"No," I mumbled against his chest. "Imma sleep under the stars tonight."

Or maybe I could sleep right here, on Jude's chest. It was harder than a pillow, but I liked that I could hear his heart beating.

The next thing I knew, Jude was gently lifting me into his arms. The stars spun overnight, a smear of silver against the black sky. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, Jude was carrying me down the stairs into the loft.

"You smell nice," I said, snuggling against his chest.

"You smell like a brewery."

"Oh."

Jude smiled. "I love breweries."

Everything faded out for a bit. I was vaguely aware that I was mumbling something, but I couldn't make out my own words, and when the world came back into focus, I was lying in bed as Jude pulled the covers around me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Jude crouched next to the bed. "Nothing to be sorry for. You're a cute, horny drunk."

"I can be cute and horny when I'm sober too."

He chuckled. "I'll hold you to that. But maybe just get some sleep for now."

As the darkness rushed in, I thought I felt him gently kiss the top of my head.