Ch.21: Showering with a Rockstar

I woke to a heavy weight on my chest, and looked down to see a muscled, tattooed arm draped over me.

Memories of last night rushed back, and a tingle rolled through my body. I felt languid and almost drunk, the blissful satisfaction of a woman who's been thoroughly and amazingly fucked.

I couldn't wait to do it again.

I rolled over, careful not to dislodge Jude's arm, and not just because I didn't want to wake him. There was something about the weight of it that I liked. It wasn't possessive exactly, but it made me feel more like his wife than I'd ever done.

Jude didn't stir.

His shaggy curls were sprawled across the pillow, wild around his sleeping face, and I couldn't help another little tingle, remembering how hard I'd clutched his hair last night, as he brought me to the best orgasm I'd ever had.

There was something almost vulnerable about him like this. All the rockstar swagger was stripped away, and that panty-dropping smile was nowhere to be seen, leaving only a young guy that the whole world recognised but few people actually knew.

Jude's eyes flickered open, heavy-lidded with sleep.

"Hi," I whispered.

He made a sleepy, contented noise, and pulled me closer, so my head was tucked under his chin. His body was warm and hard against me, and I closed my eyes, feeling strangely emotional.

All this time I'd known that I was legally Jude's wife, but it had never felt as real as it did right now.

As clichéed as it sounded, I really did feel like I could have stayed here forever.

Unfortunately, Jude's phone had other ideas.

It started buzzing from wherever we'd thrown his jeans last night, and I thought Jude was going to ignore it. His eyes stayed firmly closed, and his breathing didn't change.

But the phone kept buzzing, like a relentless, angry wasp, until Jude groaned and kicked off the covers. The mattress dipped as he climbed out of bed, and I sat up in time to see him fish his phone out of his jeans' pocket.

"What?" he snapped.

I heard a male voice on the other end, but I couldn't make out who it was or what he was saying. While Jude was occupied, I slid out of bed and checked the time on my own phone. It was a little past eight a.m., and much as I'd love to stay in bed with Jude all day, I had to get ready for work. I headed for the bathroom.

For some reason I didn't want to go back to my own bedroom and my own shower, even though that's where all my clothes and toiletries were. I wanted to use Jude's shower, in Jude's bathroom.

It was almost exactly the same as mine, I discovered, tiled in sandstone, with a walk-in shower behind a large pane of glass, copper fixtures, and a deep stone basin. Fluffy towels were neatly folded and stacked in alcoves in the wall, and I wondered if Jude did his own cleaning or if it was something Annie handled.

In a way, the former was strange to imagine – Jude Scott of rock superstardom, the heartbreaker in skin-tight leather pants, who gyrated against microphones stands like he was fucking the air, the man with enough money to buy anything he wanted, but still doing the same mundane tasks as everyone else on the planet.

I'd sometimes rolled my eyes at people who acted as if celebrities were a different species, but maybe I'd bought into that line of thinking too, just a bit.

I turned the shower dial and hot water poured out. Stepping under it, I closed my eyes and gave a happy little sigh – the water pressure in the loft was better than any other shower I'd ever used.

Jude came into the bathroom, still naked, and my mouth went dry.

I, along with half the women – and quite a few of the men – on the planet had started fantasising about Jude Scott the moment he swaggered into our lives, and he still had that swagger now, but it was different. Realistically, I knew that his professional photos involved makeup and hair stylists, editing and careful positioning and lighting, whatever it took to make him look as good as possible.

Nothing about him was polished or preened now.

His hair was a mess and he needed a shave, making him look rougher around the edges than normal, but none of that detracted from the raw sex appeal pouring off him. Actually, it made him even sexier, and not just because he was naked and hard as a rock.

It was the realness of him.

Jude stepped into the shower behind me, and I actually backed away a little, because that raw sex appeal was almost like a physical force surrounding him. He smiled, slow and wicked.

"Going somewhere?"

Mutely, I shook my head.

He stepped closer, under the shower spray, and the water sliding down his face looked like tiny diamonds. Jude slid one arm around my waist and yanked me closer, until my body was flush against his and his cock pressed insistently against me.

My heart hammered against my ribs, and I was having trouble remembering how to breathe.

Jude lowered his head, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead his mouth went to my throat. He found each sensitive place, my neck, behind my ears, the hollows of my collarbones, and brought them alive with his lips, his tongue, and the gentle scrape of his unshaved jaw.

I squirmed with delight, and my head fell back, which rather ruined the moment when hot water poured onto my face and in my eyes. I sputtered and pulled away, and Jude laughed.

"Not my sexiest moment," I said, coughing.

"You're cute when you're wet," Jude said.

"Wet as in from the shower, or . . ."

Heat sparked in Jude's eyes.

He spun me around, propelling me forward so the shower water sluiced down my back, the pressure like a tiny massage, and kicked my ankles apart with one foot.

"I have to get ready for work," I whispered even as I arched against him.

"This is getting ready for work," Jude murmured, nuzzling the back of my neck.

"I can't say it's part of my normal routine."

He bit my earlobe. "It is now."

I wasn't arguing with that. Jude's hands slipped over my water-slick skin, his palms cupping my breasts, thumbs stroking my nipples into hard peaks, before travelling down my stomach and between my parted legs.

I groaned and my head fell back again, resting on Jude's shoulder.

"How long until you have to leave for work?" he said, his voice doing that husky thing that turned me on.

"An hour."

"I should probably warn you that Neil will be here in twenty-five minutes. I'll make sure he's on his best behaviour."

"Why is – oh." I couldn't help a hoarse cry as Jude's finger plunged deep.

Jude made a noise low in his throat, and pushed in a second finger. Words left me as he stroked and rubbed, finding that perfect spot again and again, until I was writhing and shaking against him, my thighs taut, one hand gripping the back of Jude's neck.

"Put your hands on the wall," he whispered.

His palm rested on the small of my back, pushing me forward, bending me over, and I eagerly obeyed. I braced my palms on the sandstone tiles, my whole body aching with anticipation, and Jude ran his hand up my spine until he reached my neck, which he gripped tight, holding me in place as he slowly slid into me.

My eyes rolled back in my head, and Jude briefly rested his forehead on my shoulder, his breath warm on my wet skin. The feeling of him inside, hard and hot and heavy, felt so fucking good and he hadn't started moving yet.

Jude flexed his hips, sliding into me with short, shallow strokes, teasing, delicious, but not nearly enough, and I wriggled against him, trying to urge him deeper, harder, but one hand clenched my hip, holding me still.

"Jude," I whimpered.

"Yes?" he said, his voice innocent, but with a lurking note of laughter.

"More . . ."

Jude chuckled, kissed between my shoulder-blades, then tightened his grip on the back of my neck and gave me what I wanted.

The wall was slick with water, but I braced my weight on my palms, determined not to slip as Jude pumped his hips against mine, a hard, savage rhythm that wrung breathless cries from my throat.

Nothing felt this good.

Nothing.

The hot water still beat down on me, the pressure like fingers running over my skin, along my shoulders, down my spine, until every part of me was liquid and sensitised.

My palms were starting to ache where they were pressed against the wall, but I didn't care. The water could have turned ice-cold and I wouldn't have cared. The entire goddamned loft could have collapsed around us, and I wouldn't have given a single shit, as long as Jude didn't stop.

Desperate, incoherent sounds fell from my lips, and then, finally, my hands slipped and I lurched forward. Jude caught me and hoisted me upright, one strong arm around my waist, without ever breaking his rhythm. I leaned back against him, sobbing his name because the sensations raging through me were almost more than I could take, it was almost too much. Jude's breathing was ragged in my ear as he drove into me, and I clutched blindly at him as the flames burned hotter and hotter and hotter.

"Jude," I screamed, as everything shattered.

I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe, there was only the surging wave of pleasure.

I felt Jude stiffen behind me, heard his harsh shout as he plunged deep one final time, and then I sagged in his arms, breathless and quaking. If Jude hadn't held me up, I'd have melted to the floor in a puddle of pure bliss.

Jude shoved my wet hair out of the way and kissed my shoulder.

"That was amazing," he said.

I tried to agree, but all that came out was a happy whimper.

Jude's arm tightened around my stomach and he lifted me, setting me more firmly on my feet. "Come on," he said, slapping my butt. "Time for actual showering. Unless you want to still be in here when Neil comes."

No, I did not.

We showered quickly and got dressed, and though we'd lived together for a full week, it had never felt as domestic as this. That ball of emotion lodged in my throat again.

Neil turned up as Jude was pouring our coffee. I had ten minutes left before I had to leave, and I'd debated going early so I didn't have to see Neil again. Maybe he'd been having a bad day the last time we'd met, and he'd taken that out on me, but Elle had clearly thought he was always a complete dick, and I was inclined to believe her.

I was probably set for another day of dickishness from my customers; I didn't need it from Neil too. But leaving early meant cutting short my morning with Jude, and I really didn't want to do that.

So when Neil walked in, I pasted a pleasant smile on my face and pushed a mug of coffee towards him. He barely gave me a second glance.

Prick.

"We really need to start talking about deadlines, Jude," he said.

I guessed that he'd been the one on the phone earlier, and this was a continuation of that.

Jude sipped his coffee, leaning one arm on the breakfast bar in a way that made his bicep bulge. I appreciatively eyed it.

"I can't give you that yet," Jude said.

"This album has already been too long coming. You should have finished it by now," Neil said.

"I didn't. Sue me."

Jude's tone was cheerful, he could have been trading banter with any interviewer, but I picked up an undercurrent of tension. I just wasn't sure if it was aimed at Neil or at the situation in general.

"You have to start taking this seriously," Neil said.

"It'll happen when it happens," Jude replied.

"Your previous album only took three days," Neil pointed out.

"And Chinese Democracy took eleven years."

Neil rolled his eyes. "That album sucked."

"Not the point."

Neil made a growl of frustration, and I wondered how many times they'd had this discussion.

"Is this about her?" he demanded suddenly, and I jumped a little, almost spilling my coffee.

Neil glared at me, looking like he wanted to throw the whole coffee machine at my head.

"Don't be ridiculous," Jude said.

"Look, kid, Angels & Demons is the hottest group in the world right now. Don't let that star fade away, because it's very hard to climb back into the spotlight. And don't let some girl Yoko Ono you."

"Hey," I protested.

Jude set his mug down hard. "I'm really not in the mood for this bullshit," he said. "Leave Camden out of it."

"I'm just trying to do what's best for you," Neil said.

I bit my tongue to keep myself from pointing out what a load of crap that was. Angels & Demons were making a fuck-ton of money, which meant that their manager was too. Something told me that Neil didn't really give a damn about the music, he just wanted to keep his golden goose for as long as possible.

"What's best for me would be you getting off my back," Jude said.

He and Neil glared at each other across the bar, and I climbed off my stool and grabbed my bag.

"I should get to work," I said.

It was still early, but I didn't want to sit here in the middle of an argument between Jude and his manager, especially not when Neil wanted to pin some of the blame on me.

Although I couldn't help wondering if he was entirely wrong.

Jude followed me to the front door. "Don isn't here yet," he said.

I thought about what had happened yesterday at work, tried to imagine something similar happening on the Tube, and shuddered. Public transport definitely wasn't an option right now.

"I'll walk part of the way and let him know where to pick me up," I said.

"If Neil's making you uncomfortable, I'll tell him to leave."

"Somehow I don't think that'll convince him I'm not the reason for the album's delay."

"It's nothing to do with you," Jude said.

"You did take a whole day off to have a picnic with me, and you were supposed to be in the studio then," I had to point out.

"Yeah, and I've been working my ass off every other day. If Neil wants me to churn out something quick and easy, I can do that, but it'll be a steaming pile of shit. If he wants a decent album then he has to accept that some of them take longer than others."

"Okay," I said.

Jude lifted my chin with one finger. "I know he can be a dick, but don't let him get to you."

"He's not."

"Good. Will you be okay at work today?"

"Of course," I said, forcing my voice to sound brighter than I felt inside.

Jude's eyes searched my face, as if he didn't quite believe me, and I gave him my most winning smile.

"Will you call me if you need anything?" Jude said.

"Will you answer if I call?" I asked. It wasn't meant to be pointed, but Jude winced.

"I'll try," he said.

I preferred that he didn't tell me he definitely would pick up the phone, because we both knew there was a chance he wouldn't. Once he lost himself to the music, it could take more than a ringing phone to pull him back out. Much as it would frustrate me if he didn't answer if I needed him, I didn't want him to bullshit me either. Honesty was appreciated, even if it wasn't exactly the answer that I wanted.

I stood on tiptoes and kissed him. "Thank you."

Jude caught me around the waist and deepened the kiss, and as his tongue brushed mine, my toes curled in my shoes. We'd shared more passionate kisses than this, but after the incredible sex of last night and this morning, this kiss seemed to carry more weight.

"I'll see you tonight," he whispered.