Knowing Jude
Chapter 46

"I was five. I was in her room, she was in the bathroom. Started snooping on the drawers. Jared had mentioned once that Dad had a gun, but none of us had ever really seen it and I was..." he shrugs. "Curious.

"Of particular interest to me was the bottom drawer because it was always locked, you know? And I had looked in the others before. Just Mum's jewellery and stuff. On this day, however, when I pulled on the handle there was no resistance. So I opened the drawer, checking to make sure Mum didn't bust me. And there it was, black and shiny just like in the movies."

He pauses to pour himself another glass of wine.

"I felt so cool, and excited, to hold it in my hands. Started pulling moves like actors, pretending I was shooting at some villain."

He stops to take a sip of his wine. He ends up gulping the entire glass. Pouring yet another one, he continues.

"I was messing with the safety when she appeared. I panicked at being caught. She was telling me calmly to put it away and I was going to, but I was shaking at the thought of Dad replaceing out and my hands were fumbling around and I pulled the trigger." Jude's eyes fall shut. "I can still hear the loud bang in my ears. Every night I see her stumbling backwards into the bathroom, her white towel staining red around her stomach."

He inhales deeply. "So, that's why they all hate me. Justified, right?"

I reach forward and touch his arm. "You were five."

He shakes his head. "She stayed in the hospital for a week, paralysed and in a coma, then she was gone. I was not five. I was a spoilt little brat, that's what I was, and I killed my own mother."

My fingers tighten around his arm. "No. You had no idea what you were doing. It was an accident."

"Does it matter?" he whispers. "I killed her. How. Why. What. When. All that doesn't matter. The fact remains they all lost her because of me."

I shake my head. "You might say that but I know deep down you know you couldn't have known. And you know what? It's absolutely sick that they would judge you for something that happened when you were five. You were just a kid!" "A smart kid, who knew exactly what a gun can do"

"And did you mean for what happened to happen? Did you mean to do it? Was it even in your mind to do it? Did you even consider doing it?" I interject. "Did you?"

He stays silent.

"You didn't. It was. An. Accident."

I fix my eyes on him, waiting to see the obvious fact register.

He downs his glass, picks up the half-empty bottle and rises. "You don't get it."

Then he walks away, heading towards the back door. I rise too and grab my clothes, put them on after a second of thought, then go after him. I turn back one last time and pick up his clothes too.

I replace him in the living room, now drinking straight from the bottle.

"Jude "

"Tell me one thing," he says, pointing at me with his index finger. "If it was you. Would you ever forgive yourself?"

Words die on my lips and I stand still.

He gives a dry laugh. "See?" Then he drops on the couch, chugging more wine.

I sigh and approach him, placing his clothes beside him. I sit on the couch adjacent to his, not sure what to say. If I could physically hammer sense into his head that would help but since that's not possible... "Can you get me another one?" he finally asks, dropping the empty bottle to the carpet.

"No, I think you've had enough," I say.

"And you've had none," he mutters, slouching on the couch. He brings his arm up to cover his eyes. He's quite the picture, naked but for his black boxers, hair wet and all sprawled out on the couch. "Would you mind putting on your jeans?"

All I get is a groan in response.

"Jude?"

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying the sight." He moves, but only to lay horizontally on the couch. "Wake me up when you need to go home."

I reach for my phone and look at it, it's half-past four. I don't think he'll be sober enough to drive in two hours.

I could call a taxi. For both of us, unless Cole shows up because I don't think it's wise for Jude to be left alone in his current state.

"Jo?" he calls after several minutes.

"Yeah?"

"Can you hold me please?"

He's lying on his stomach, his face hidden in a soft cushion, so I don't bother hiding the consternation on my face.

"What?"

He shifts, face turning towards me. He looks a little flushed even with the wet hair strands clinging to his forehead. "It makes everything better."

I think I might develop some heart problems if my pulse doesn't stop the little habit it seems to have picked of late. I can feel it all over my body.

Jude sits up and reaches for his jeans. "I'll put this on if it makes you feel comfortable."

I think over his request as he pulls on his jeans. He did it for me once, when I was hurting. And he's right, it makes everything better.

This isn't any different, right?

I'm only going to do it because he needs it.

Totally not because I've been craving to ever since that night.

Two minutes later he's the one holding on to me, and I don't mind it one bit. My back is to his chest and his arms are really tight around me, no complaints. The rhythm of his chest as he breathes in and out is a soothing caress that has my eyes drooping fast.

When I wake up he is already up, no longer holding me. Instead, his face is propped up on his palm, looking down at me. It's a little unnerving.

"Shit, how long did I sleep?"

He shrugs. "I just woke up too. It's six."

I jolt upright. "Gotta go home."

Suddenly I'm flying backwards, pulled back onto the couch. "I wasn't done looking." "What?"

He looks into my eyes, then in a raspy whisper says, "You look so sexy right now."

My heart flutters in my chest like a captured butterfly suddenly set free. I swallow against that and summon what I hope sounds like a detached reply. "Hear, the alcohol talking."

He shifts, getting closer. Instead of alcohol, however, the smell wafting from his lips is something much pleasant and familiar. Does he pop candies the second he wakes up? Not that I'm really thinking about that, no.

I can't concentrate.

I can feel his eyes on me but I'm staring at the high ceiling of the Adams' house, pretending I can't feel it.

He probably can see that I can, from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.

He leans closer. "If you don't believe me, I can show you."

I'm forced to look at him when all of a sudden he's leaning over me, encasing me in his arms and legs. Hovering over me.

My heart is practically fighting to leave its cage, and I... I need to say something, but he's licking his lips-his gloriously red lips-and all thought seems to have deserted my mind.

He leans downwards. I lose my breath, but then he simply rests his cheek in his palm, an elbow resting on the sofa. He runs his thumb over his lower lip.

"I don't usually kiss girls like you."

This is the moment I stop breathing.

At this moment, I can see the future.

He's going to make a move and I'm going to embrace it like a thirsty wench because why not? He's hot and I wouldn't mind kissing him.

His other hand drops to the side of my face, playing with strands of my hair. His eyes scan my face. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes going over my body as far as they can go. He smacks his red lips together, then looks back at my face. "You're not the kind of girl I'd usually kiss."

Suddenly the beating of my heart gets painful.

No.

He did not just do a physical assessment of me and remind himself that—

His gaze is stuck on my lips. "But I'll do it anyway."

He doesn't give me enough time to catch my breath and register that short announcement because in the next second his lips are on mine.

This has got to be the shortest kiss ever because I immediately push him away, breathing like a horse in labour.

"Wait, wait," I finally replace my voice, the words barely escaping through my deep inhales.

"Are you okay?" he asks, blue eyes wide as he looks at my hyperventilating self.

I nod and swallow. "Yeah, I... I... "

I ran out of breath way before the real thing got here.

I suddenly feel so embarrassed. I mean my inexperience is right here, glaring in my face and he can see it. Why is he even doing this? He said it himself, he doesn't kiss girls like me. Why am I letting him do this? And drunk. This probably means nothing to him. Afterwards, he might pretend it never happened.

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This is me, looking into a pit full of hurt and taking an eager leap into it.

"Hey, hey. It's fine."

He's looking at me ever so softly, caressing my cheek with the back of his hand.

This makes me even more embarrassed. It's not even my first kiss, Cole stole that.

"I think we...shouldn't," I say, looking over his shoulder and trying to wedge my way from under him.

His lower body drops instantly, caging mine to the couch, our legs tangling. "No. I want to." His hand crawls over my side, to my chest. "Listen to your heart. You want it too."

I rub my foot against his leg because... Oh, I don't know, it feels good?

"Come here," he says, then he's untangling our limbs and getting to his feet.

A wave of disapproval courses through me. He really did feel nice against me.

I lift a hand which he grabs and pulls me onto my feet.

This is the moment where I walk away.

He sits down on the couch.

Then pulls me forward until I'm forced to straddle his lap.

"Less intimidating, yeah?" he asks, smiling.

I do feel a little in control and not as breathless as before...

His left hand snakes around my waist while his right hand cups the side of my face. He leans in slowly until our lips are brushing against each other. My eyes slide shut and I concentrate on the feeling.

It feels like I have a second heart in my stomach.

His lips move, encasing mine. His are moist and warm, and I feel like mine are Sahara-parched.

I kiss him anyway.

My hands rest loosely on his shoulders as our lips move together lightly at a slow pace. He gets closer, devouring my lips completely. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and nips on it with his teeth, then sweeps his tongue across it.

A delicious shiver rocks my entire body. My hands automatically wrap around his neck, feeling like I might drop to the floor if I don't hold on tight enough. The movement brings our bodies together. I can feel both his hands pressing down on my thighs, keeping them glued to his hips.

His teeth release my lip and he deepens the kiss. I try to match his fervour, but he's getting too intense. Luckily he pulls back and I'm glad to replace I'm not the only one who is out of breath.

My eyes peel open slowly to meet his. He watches me with a small smile.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

I shake my head. "Don't make up lies to make me feel better; you're just drunk and got a free opportunity to feel up some willing girl."

He raises an eyebrow. "Feel up? No, I've not felt you up yet." His hands start making circles on my thighs as if to make a point. "And I'm not drunk." His hands spread out on my hips, then they move upwards.

I slap them away quickly when I get a sense of what he's doing. "Stop that!" I order, face burning.

That's too... That's too intimate...

He makes a pouty face. "Come on, I want to feel your ass."

...and hot.

I unwrap my arms from around him and try to get off him.

"You're not going anywhere, Jo."

I push my hands against his chest. He swings around, toppling me over onto the couch, trapping me with his body again. His blonde hair drops forward and the traitor in me reaches out and pushes it back. A good traitor, because she's making me do what I really want to, fearlessly.

He grins. He can probably sense the real lack of resistance within me. "You look so hot right now, I should take a picture."

"No!" I object immediately, looking around to make sure there's no camera device in reach.

He laughs. "Calm down. We would look so good together in a shoot. I'd be there, hot and brooding and you, sexy and innocent."

I scoff. "Hot and brooding, yeah right."

"You trying to deny facts?"

"I wouldn't dare."

"That fire, I want to see that fire. Can you show me that fire?"

As you reach the final pages, remember that 000005s.com is your destination for the complete story. Share the joy of reading with others and spread the word. The next chapter is just a visit away! "There's no fire."

"I can awaken it for you if you like."

I guess he decides I would like that because his head dips to claim my lips again. This time my hands fist in his hair and bring him closer. It feels natural, like kissing Jude is something I've been doing for ages now, something my body's used to. This time there's nothing slow about it.

I feel his legs shifting until he's lying between my legs. More delicious shivers, coupled with a nervous knot in my stomach. I can feel all my reactions to him and I'm not sure I want to embrace them yet.

How far can we go this first time? Is it bad if I let him touch me in a sort of indecent manner? Is it too bad that I want him to press a little closer.... What will he think?

Am I thinking too much?

His kisses alone are making me drunk, and not on the wine I can faintly taste on him. I become faintly aware of one of his hands creeping beneath my top. My heart beats faster. He pulls back and traces kisses across my cheek, going towards

my neck. I squeeze my eyes shut, allowing myself to drown in what I'm feeling. He's now placing fluttery kisses on my neck, his warm breath fanning over my skin. His hand doesn't stop until it's pressing over my bra. It rests there for a while as he continues snogging my neck. Then he squeezes and it's like a switch has been flipped somewhere in my body. I drag the heels of my feet upwards on the couch, raising my legs.

Which is not a good idea if I was thinking of keeping things somewhat cool because our lower abdomens are now pushed together and I...uh... I think that's his boner right there.

I pull his head back. "I think "

"We won't do anything serious, okay?" he assures.

Some part of me wants to nod and carry on but some stubborn part asks, why am I even doing this?

Okay yes, because I'm attracted to him.

And?

Since when did I just start making out with a guy because I'm attracted to him?

Never.

And how many guys have I felt an attraction towards?

Several.

But this is Jude....

And?

I know him.

Do you?

Jude caresses the side of my face with his knuckles. "Stop doing that."

"What?" I ask.

"Thinking."

"Jude, I just... I don't want anything to get awkward between us and—"

"Nothing is going to get awkward."

"But-"

"Is it awkward between you and Cole now?"

I frown. "What? No. That's different."

"How?"

"I'm closer to you, we spend more time together."

"And? You clearly want this."

"Yes, I... No, I... Oh fuck!" A thought that comes out of nowhere has me pushing him back with a sudden burst of energy, and I'm able to slip from under him and stand a couple of paces away from the couch. "Aren't you back with Bethany?" His brow creases. "What? No! I'm not."

"Well, whatever, I can't do this with you. You're a bad boy."

"And?"

"And after this, you're going to be with some other girl like always, because this is just you passing time." I fold my arms over my chest. "And I'd hate to feel used. I'd hate myself for letting you use me like that." I take a deep breath. "I'd feel stupid."

His lips part like he's going to say something but he doesn't. He heaves a sigh instead and sits up. He reaches for his shirt and pulls it on.

"You're right."