Ch.20: The First Time

The loft had never felt more like home. As the front door swung shut, blocking out the world and all the shit that came with it, I let out a long sigh of relief.

Yeah, I had to go back to The Swallow tomorrow, but for now I was free.

Dumping my bag on the floor, I walked into the kitchen, and my heart gave a massive stutter in my chest.

Jude stood behind the counter, mixing up a gin and tonic that I instinctively knew was for me. He looked up and grinned, and it felt like standing in a ray of sunshine after seeing nothing but clouds all day.

"I thought you'd be at the studio until late," I said.

I'd fully expected to come home to an empty loft, and maybe not even see Jude until tomorrow morning, but he was here, he was here.

Jude gave my drink a final stir. "I thought you might want to talk about your day."

A hard lump rose in my throat.

We'd been married for just six days and already I felt more connected to this man than I had in an entire year with Jake.

"How did it go?" Jude asked, sliding the gin across the counter to me.

I'd meant to downplay everything, but my eyes filled with tears and my resolve crumbled to dust. "It really fucking sucked," I said.

Jude's face darkened. He pulled me into his arms, and I clung to him, breathing in the smell of his clothes and his skin, my hand splayed over his heart. The warm familiarity of him made me feel grounded and safe in a way that I hadn't since I left the loft this morning.

"Uh, Camden?" Jude said.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you smell like coffee?"

I pressed myself harder against him while I told him what had happened. Jude stiffened.

"What the fuck? Did someone call the police?"

"He ran off. I didn't even get a look at his face," I said.

"Bastard," Jude growled.

He held me in silence for a few moments, his hands stroking up and down my back.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he said, his voice soft against my hair.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to stay."

It was my turn to stiffen. My hand had been splayed over his heart for comfort; now it pushed him away from me.

"Is this your way of telling me to leave?" I said.

"No," Jude said. "But if this gets too much for you, I'll understand."

I snatched the gin he'd poured me, drained it in one, and slammed the glass on the counter. The fear and pressure and anxiety that had gnawed at me all day hardened into a ball of rage.

"You know what this feels like? It feels like you want me to go but you don't have the balls to outright say it," I snapped.

Jude didn't exactly roll his eyes, but it was close enough that it made my anger surge.

"For fuck's sake, Jude. If you've changed your mind, just tell me," I cried, my throat raw with emotion. "If you don't want me here anymore, that's fine, I'll pack my shit and leave. But at least say it to my face instead of trying to convince me that it's my idea."

"That's not what I'm doing," Jude said, but he didn't look at me.

"Have you changed your mind?" I demanded.

He didn't answer, and the silence stretched between us, thick as tar, until I made a disgusted noise and spun around. I'd been prepared to face the media circus and the crazed fans and all the other shit that came with being a rockstar's wife, but if Jude didn't feel the same way then we were wasting each other's time.

I'd thought there was really something between us, and Jude had said he felt it too, but maybe that something had withered and died when I wasn't looking. Or maybe it had never been there, and I was an idiot for thinking that Jude Scott would ever really feel something for me –

Jude grabbed my wrist, spun me towards him, and kissed me, hard and demanding, until my head spun and my knees were so weak that I almost collapsed when he released me.

"I don't want you to leave," he said, his voice husky.

"Then why do you keep bringing it up?" I whispered.

He was holding something back, and I needed to know what, because everything had changed when he told Kelly we were married, and nothing would ever be the same again.

Jude's jaw worked, his eyes roving over the loft, and I was reminded of a cornered animal, one that hasn't decided if it's going to run or not. It was very different to the confident rockstar I normally saw, and my anger cooled.

"Jude, talk to me," I said softly, putting my hand on his chest again.

"I really don't want you to leave, Camden, and that's the fucking truth." Jude shoved one hand through his curls. "But I'm afraid for you if you stay."

"Why?"

"Because you're not used to my world. I've only been part of it for three years, but already that feels like a lifetime." Jude pinned me with an intense look. "I've seen fame chew people up and spit them out, and . . ."

"You think that could happen to me," I realised.

Jude gave a terse nod. "No one can really explain what fame is like; you have to live it, and if you then realise you don't like it, it's often too late. I chose this, but you didn't."

"I did, though. I chose it from the moment I agreed to stay married to you."

"Yeah, and we agreed to keep it a secret, only I fucked it up after just four days," Jude said.

"For the best reason!" I exclaimed.

"I just . . ." Jude roughly scrubbed his palm across his jaw. "I don't want you to wake up one day and regret this."

"But that's my choice," I reminded him. "And you must have realised this could happen."

"Yeah, but that was before I knew you." Jude swallowed. "Before you started to really matter to me."

My chest knotted.

"Look at the shit you've already been through today. What happens if it gets worse? Because there's a good chance it will," Jude said.

"Then I'll come home to you, have a drink, complain about how much people suck, and get on with it. I'm willing to risk this because I want to be with you, because I think that you're worth all the shit. I'm just not sure you think I'm worth it."

The look he gave me was dark and raw and churning with emotion. "You are worth it."

I searched his face, wanting to believe him but still afraid to, and he kissed me again, deliciously demanding. His hips pushed against mine, the hard shape of him between us, and I reached down to stroke him through his jeans.

"Fuck, Camden," he growled, his hips rocking into my touch.

He buried one hand in my hair and pulled my head back slightly, so he could look down at me.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"I want you."

He shook his head, eyes glinting. "Tell me like you told me up on the roof that time."

I swallowed.

Jude's eyes burned into me.

"I want you to fuck me," I whispered.

"More," he said, rocking his hips against me, his voice a harsh command that made me shiver with anticipation.

"I want . . ." I licked my lips, tried again. "I want your head between my legs. I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my own name. I want to ride you until you can't breathe. I want –"

His mouth was on mine before I could say anything else. He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms locked around his neck, still kissing him like I could never get enough of him, as he carried me to his bedroom. I heard the thud as he kicked the door open, then he slung me onto his bed.

My hands roamed over him, twisting in his chocolate curls, running across his back and arms, feeling hard muscle flex beneath my fingertips, and my hips moved eagerly against him even though we were still fully clothed.

Jude's mouth travelled down my throat, finding sensitive areas I hadn't even known I had, and gently sucking on them until I writhed. My whole body felt electric in a way that I'd never experienced and Jude had barely even touched me.

His lips went lower, moving along my collarbones, and then lower still, to the open neck of my shirt.

I clutched the back of his head, breathless with anticipation.

Jude nuzzled the front of my shirt, then he ripped off the top button with his teeth, and I let out a startled gasp and tried to sit up, but he pushed me back down.

His eyes smouldered as he undid the rest of my buttons and pulled my shirt open. I spared a second to wish I'd worn a sexier bra today, but the look on Jude's face said it didn't matter.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he breathed.

I reached up to pull off his T-shirt, but he beat me to it, ripping it over his head and hurling it into the corner. His bare chest wasn't new to me now, and yet it felt like I was seeing it for the first time all over again, and my eyes catalogued every inch of tanned skin, every ridge of muscle, the way the reaper's sickle pointing towards his heart seemed to move with every ragged breath he took, the flames licking over the edge of his hip, the rest of the tattoo still hidden beneath the waistband of his jeans.

My fingers trembled as I ran them down his chest, the muscles in his stomach contracting under my touch.

"Jude," I whispered.

He leaned over me, and even before he touched me, his magnetic presence was like a physical force, pushing me down on the bed. His hands glided over me, exploring the curve of my hips, the flat of my stomach, the edges of my ribs, and then moved higher, stroking themselves around the shape of my breasts. Even through the cotton layer of my bra, it felt so good that I shuddered and closed my eyes, arching into his touch.

Jude slipped one hand beneath me and flicked open my bra clasp, and I lifted my arms so he could slide the straps down.

I'd always been confident about my appearance. I knew I was beautiful, and I knew I had a good body, so I'd never felt self-conscious naked, but I still half-expected to now, because this was Jude fucking Scott. He was so perfect that he was almost unreal.

But that self-consciousness never came. The way Jude gazed at me made me feel more beautiful than ever.

He ran one fingertip from the hollow of my throat down to my navel, and then back up again, and every muscle in my body was clenched with sweet anticipation, waiting for him to really touch me.

Jude lowered his head. His mouth closed around my right nipple, and the breath caught in my throat. The tugging motion of his lips, the curl of his tongue, the light scrape of his teeth, it kindled the fire that burned deep inside.

I fumbled my hand down his body, reaching for his belt buckle, desperate to touch him, but Jude caught my wrist and pinned it to the bed. He was so strong. The feeling of his mouth on my nipple sent sparks shooting through me, but I needed more, and I lifted my hips, pushing against him, wordlessly demanding.

His eyes flared as he lifted his head to look at me.

"Let me touch you," I whispered.

Jude released my wrist and sat back on his heels, watching me. My mouth was dust-dry as I reached for his belt, and my fingers stuttered over the metal buckle, torn between wanting to prolong this moment and wanting to rip Jude's clothes off as quickly as possible.

I undid his buckle, then flipped open the button on his jeans, my eyes fixed on the hard bulge pushing against the denim. I traced the muscled V lines between Jude's hips, then finally slipped one hand into his jeans. As he'd told me, he wore no underwear, and as my fingers grazed his bare cock, he let out a soft hiss.

He was hot and hard and heavy and satin-smooth, and seemed to harden even more as I touched him, stroking my palm up his length and gently rubbing my thumb across his tip.

"Fuck, Camden, I need you," he said, his voice hoarse.

I unzipped my own jeans and shoved them down my legs.

A smile touched Jude's lips. "No Bridget Jones panties?"

"If you're lucky I'll wear them next time."

I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, and as the weight of him settled on top of me, his hips shoving my thighs apart, I pushed my pelvis up again, rubbing against him.

Jude groaned and half-twisted away from me so he could tear off his jeans. My lips parted on a soft sigh as I finally saw the tattoo I'd always wondered about. A burning skull was wrapped around Jude's hip, flames roaring around its head and flickering out of its eyes and mouth, trailing down his thigh.

I felt like the same flames were burning beneath my skin.

Jude slipped his hand between our bodies, touching me where I was wet and aching for him, and I couldn't hold back a little whimper.

The smile he gave me was pure sex.

He pulled off my panties so hard that I heard seams rip, but I didn't care. I was on fire for him.

His hand was between my legs again, two fingers sliding deep, and fuck, that felt good.

I clutched Jude's biceps, my fingers splayed across his tiger tattoo, while his fingers pumped into me, stroking those flames higher and higher, until it was almost too much and I instinctively tried to close my legs, as if that would slow the growing wave of bliss, but Jude was wedged between my thighs, forcing me to keep them open.

"Oh, God," I groaned.

Jude chuckled. "Baby, you ain't felt nothing yet."

He moved his hand, making me whimper in protest, and shifted position, settling more firmly between my legs. I felt the head of his cock nudging against me, hard and blunt, and another eager shiver rolled over me.

Jude's eyes locked with mine, dark and heavy-lidded, and I clutched his biceps again, my fingernails digging into his skin.

"Say it again," Jude said, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

I knew what he meant, but I was so breathless I almost couldn't get the words out. "I want you to fuck me."

He thrust into me so roughly that the air left my lungs, and I squeezed his arms even tighter, because yes, this was what I needed, this was what I'd been waiting for, aching for.

Jude began to move, as hard and fast as that first thrust, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, my knees squeezing him hard enough that it probably hurt, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes were fixed on my face as he surged into me, deep and fierce, over and over again, jolting me along the bed, and oh my fucking God, nothing had ever felt this good.

There was a breathless, keening noise in the room, and I realised it was me. My hips lifted to meet Jude's, and I flung one hand behind me to grab the headboard, my breaths coming raw and ragged as the fire inside me blazed out of control. I was on the brink of something, bigger than I'd ever felt before.

"Jude," I gasped. It was the only word I could manage.

He pressed his face to my neck and sucked hard on my pulse, and fuck, the sensations storming through me were too much, I was going to break apart.

"Let go for me. I want to hear what you sound like when you come," he gasped, his voice still in that husky growl. I'd listened to him sing like that so many times, but I've never imagined him saying these words to me.

He grabbed my left leg, shifting it higher, changing his angle, and

oh

god

more

YES

The world exploded.

I screamed, stars flashing bright against my tightly closed eyelids, as wave after wave of raw bliss flooded through me, and Jude's curls were tangled around my hand as I clung to him. He moved faster, the bed rocking frantically beneath us, the headboard cracking against the wall, until finally he plunged deep and groaned my name into the hollow of my shoulder, and I felt him come apart.

The world came back to me in hazy pieces.

My entire body was boneless, floating on a cloud, and my throat felt raw.

Jude lowered himself to kiss me, gentle after the wildness of the sex, and then he rolled over, breathing heavily.

"Holy shit," I mumbled when I could speak again.

I turned my head to look at Jude. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling, his hair a freshly fucked tangle, and something clenched in my chest. I wanted to say something but I had no idea what.

As if he sensed my thoughts, Jude reached for my hand. It was a soft touch, his fingers loosely lacing with mine, but there was so much weight to it.

That was the best sex I'd ever had, no contest, but it wasn't just sex.

"Shit," Jude said suddenly, his eyes flying open. "Condom."

"I'm on the pill," I said.

Jude sank back onto his pillow. "Thank fuck for that. I don't think this marriage needs any more complications."

He was right, but it struck me that I knew nothing about what kind of future he might want if this marriage did work. Did he want kids? I knew I did, but I also knew they weren't for everyone. If he didn't want them, would I be prepared to give them up to be with him?

Jude lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. His eyes were closed again, and judging from the cadence of his breathing, he wasn't far off falling asleep.

I shoved everything else to the back of my mind. None of it mattered now.

I started to sit up, and Jude tightened his grip on my hand. "Stay with me," he murmured, eyes still closed.

While he'd pounded into me, his voice had been husky, like it was when he sang, but now it was soft, almost uncertain, and my heart clenched again.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered.

I rolled over, tucking my shoulder under his arm, and rested my face against his chest. The grim reaper blade curled over my head.

"Jude," I started, but he didn't respond, and when I looked up, I realised he was already asleep.

I didn't even know what I'd been about to say.

I snuggled closer to him, and closed my eyes.

Neither of us knew what the future held, but for now, I was exactly where I wanted to be.