Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Yes.” So bloody hard. Always.
“Do your insides tingle when you think about him?” She smiles, impish. “Fanny flutters?”
“Grandma!”
She rolls her old eyes. “Well?”
“Yes,” I whisper, mortified.
“Then you have him, Grand Girl. And don’t let anyone try to tell you that you can’t.” She squishes my face and kisses me, before turning on her slippers and going back to the house.
I could cry.
Looking to the sky, I wish with everything I have that I’d just let Jude pick me up from work. Followed his lead.
“Shit,” I breathe, picking up my feet and heading for the Tube. A bombardment of messages from Nick keep me company on the way.
Who is it?
I at least deserve to know who he is.
How could you do this? You’ve made a fool of me.
I hope you’re happy.
I ignore them all on constant winces, my heart feeling heavy. I don’t want to hurt Nick any more than I already have.
Chapter 31
After letting myself in the front door, I set my flowers on the table and give them the admiration they deserve before getting a bottle of wine from the fridge. I smile when Jude calls. “Hey,” I say, holding my mobile to my ear with my shoulder as I pull the cork out of the bottle.
“Hey,” he replies, simple as that, stretching my smile.
“Thank you for the flowers.”
“Welcome.”
“Did you know the florist you got them from was Abbie’s?” I ask.
“I did. But she wasn’t there, so I was served by an older lady with silver hair.”
“My mother.” I collect a glass from the cabinet.
“What?”
“That was my mother.”
“I ordered flowers with your mother, and she didn’t think to mention that the woman I asked them to be delivered to was her daughter?”
“Apparently not.” I can only imagine Mum’s face when she was confronted with Jude Harrison. “She also didn’t have them delivered. She took them home and gave them to me when I popped in earlier. I thought . . .” I just catch myself before I tell Jude who I thought they were from.
“You thought they were from your ex,” he says, and I nibble my lip as I pour. “Wait. Has he been sending you flowers?” My lack of an answer gives him my answer. “Do I need to step in?”
“Let’s not argue anymore,” I plead quietly, lowering to a chair at the table. I’ve had a bellyful today.
He sighs. “Tell me about the rest of your day.”
“The end of the financial year is approaching, so I’ve been lost in my end-of-year recommendation and reinvestment proposals. Am I boring you yet?”
“Never.”
I smile, taking a sip of wine. “How was your meeting in the wine cellar?”
“I couldn’t take my eyes off the table where I fucked you. It was quite distracting, made me miss you more, but on the plus side I’ve found the next bottle I plan on pouring all over you and licking off.”
I subtly inhale, pressing my lips together. “What are you doing now?”
“I’m about to get you to climax with my voice,” he murmurs. My body instantly responds. “Put the wine down.” I swallow and look at the glass. How did he know? “Put it down, Amelia.”
Placing it on the table, I wait with bated breath for his next instruction. “Lift the skirt of your dress.”
“How do you know I’m wearing a dress?”
“Lift the skirt of your dress.”
I purse my lips and wriggle it up my thighs with my spare hand.
“Lick your fingers.”
I take a deep breath and slip my fingers into my mouth, wetting them. “I prefer you doing this,” I say quietly.
“Then you should have seen me tonight,” he retorts, making me scowl. “How wet are you?”
“Drenched.” I suck in air as I slide my fingers past my knickers, slipping across my flesh.
“Fuck,” Jude breathes quietly. “Feel good?”
I hum, sinking further into my chair. “Are you touching yourself?”
“It would cause a bit of a scandal, baby,” he says, serious. “I’m in the Library Bar.”
A sharp burst of laughter leaves me, making me lose my rhythm.
“Concentrate,” he orders quietly.
“I’m concentrating.”
“Slide your fingers—”
The door behind me flings open and Abbie bursts in with arms full of flowers. “Shit,” I hiss, covering myself as she stops and takes me in, her face just visible through the mass of blooms. She’s frowning. “Abbie’s home,” I sing, and Jude groans. “I’d better go.”
“Fine.” He sounds bereft. “Fuck, I miss you.”
And I’m pooling on the kitchen floor. “You too,” I say, my chest swelling with happiness.
“Call me back when you’re alone again, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And, Amelia?”
“What?”
“I lo—” He catches himself, and a long pause ensues. I wait . . . wondering. Hoping. He . . . what? “Nothing,” he murmurs. “I’ll speak to you in a bit.” He hangs up, and I swallow, resting my phone down, staring at it. Does he . . . ? My heart starts to gallop as Abbie passes me, her eyes accusing.