Made Marian, Volume One by Lucy Lennox
Jude
Derek’s dark eyes bore a hole through me. “If that asshole dropped you years ago, why was he acting like he wanted to eat you for dinner tonight?”
“He seemed to be up for a quickie,” I confessed. “I told him I wasn’t interested.”
“Why is he approaching you now? Because of your fame? Is he still married?”
I shrugged. “I think so. It was a request for a fuck, not a relationship. But what he really wanted was my money to manage. He is a partner for his father-in-law’s investment firm.”
Derek looked at me like I was insane. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him to go to hell,” I snapped. “But now I have to spend two hours with him in the morning.”
“Maybe he’s not going to take no for an answer. Or maybe he wants to open the closet door and rip you out of it for the whole world to see. This is a major problem, Jude. Can’t you see that?” Derek railed at me.
I felt myself start to shake and ducked my face down into my chest before Derek could see me lose it, curling my hands over my head and feeling my hair come down around my face. It was overwhelming. My exhaustion from the tour was making me unusually sensitive. This shit had come at me out of the blue, and now I was going to have to deal with it. I wasn’t ready.
“I’m sorry,” Derek said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” I said into my knees. “I know you’re just concerned because it’s your job.”
Derek didn’t respond, so I looked up at him. His piercing green eyes sparked at me. “I’m concerned because I care what happens to you, Jude. Yes, it’s my job. But you’re also a man I’ve practically been living with twenty-four seven for months.”
“Right, so that begs the question. When do you find time to date or hook up?” I asked him, trying to change the topic off Ari Crowe.
He looked everywhere but at me as he clearly contemplated how to answer. “Sometimes I go to clubs when I have time off. I don’t do relationships because I travel too much for work. And when I was in the military, I kept myself to myself for the most part. There was a stint of a few months when I was on a mission with a guy I messed around with. That was nice.” He shrugged.
God, that sounded lonely. He sounded like he was stuck in a similar hell to mine.
“Why don’t you just come out now and live openly? I mean, you live in San Francisco and you’re an adult. What’s holding you back?” I asked.
“My father is a general in the Marines. He’s at the level where he could be nominated by the president to become commandant. I have two brothers, both in the service. I grew up in the South on a military base. My family goes hunting, fishing, and rides ATVs in the mud for fun. My mother is in charge of the ladies’ guild at the local Southern Baptist church. Have you heard enough yet? Because I could keep going.” He laughed.
“I get it. How in the hell did you ever admit to yourself you were gay if you were raised like that?” I smiled at him.
“It’s hard to deny getting a hard-on in middle school wrestling practice,” Derek admitted with a shrug. “I quit the team when I realized I was enjoying my sweaty opponents just a little too much. Then I started playing baseball where the guys were less tempting. Spitting and scratching. Plus, it helped when I switched to a sport where the players wore plenty of clothes and didn’t touch each other. Did you play sports?”
“Soccer. And I was a big rock climber until it became too much of a pain in the ass to go to the climbing gym without being recognized. You already know I run since we run together sometimes,” I said, thinking about how much I enjoyed his quiet company on my runs. His legs were so much longer than mine that my runs were easy jogs for him. Derek was in amazing shape. He ran and lifted weights religiously, even if we were traveling. When we had downtime I often caught him doing martial arts moves or pushups and crunches when he thought no one was looking.
I hadn’t seen him bare-chested since the day I met him. The most I’d ever seen since then were his bare arms and legs when we were running. His upper body was fucking glorious. Back muscles rippled under his shirts. Shoulders filled out his jackets. Biceps popped and stretched shirtsleeves. And then there was his ass. I had definitely noticed his ass. And his muscled thighs and shapely calves. Damn, the man was a specimen of human perfection. I didn’t realize I was staring at him.
Green eyes smoldered back at me as the air seemed to thicken between us. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Bluebell?”
“Nothing. Never mind,” I said, turning my head to face away from him. “Just thinking.”
I heard a low chuckle. “Just thinking, my ass,” he muttered. “You were looking at me like you wanted to see me naked.”
My head whipped back around to face him. “Fuck you, I was not.”
I totally was.
“All right. Whatever you say.” He grinned. “For what it’s worth, I meant what I said before about you being gorgeous. I know it’s not appropriate, but there it is.”
After a six-year hibernation, my libido uncoiled and struck like a viper. Before I knew what was happening, I was in his lap crushing my lips to his. My hands snaked behind his neck to hold him tight against me. My knees straddled his hips on the couch, and I felt his arms come around my back, splayed fingers pulling me toward him. We devoured each other’s mouths, and I couldn’t get my fill.
Derek tasted amazing, like toothpaste and man. His sleepy, warm scent washed over me, going straight to my extremely overwhelmed cock. My pajama pants resembled a Barnum and Bailey tent as I rocked my hips, seeking friction.
I felt a moan escape Derek’s mouth, and I responded in kind. My hands started moving down to his throat, his collarbone, his chest. I felt the convex arcs of his pec muscles and the dip between them. God, I wanted to sink my teeth into those muscles.
Warm, strong hands pushed underneath the hem of my sweatshirt and onto the bare skin of my back, causing ripples of goosebumps everywhere they brushed. They came up to cup my shoulders, and I had this overwhelming need to be owned by this man. Just held down and fucked until I couldn’t question a thing he wanted to do to my body. I needed to surrender, and he was a man I trusted enough to surrender myself to.
“Fuck me, Derek, please,” I said against his mouth.
