Home > Crush (Crash #3)

Crush (Crash #3)
Author: Nicole Williams

ONE

Up, down. Round and around. Rinse and repeat. That was our pattern. That was our world.

With a guy like Jude Ryder at my side, the lows in life were lower and the highs were higher. This was our reality, our story . . . our love story. We fought; we made up. We messed up; we apologized. We lived; we learned. Jude and I had made a lot of mistakes in the history of our relationship, but one thing we always seemed to get right? Our all-consuming love for each other.

This was my life.

And you know what?

Life was pretty damn good.

Even despite the fact that I had no clue where I was.

“What are you up to?” I whispered back to Jude, continuing to let him lead me into the black hole.

“Something you’ll love,” he replied, squeezing my shoulders as he steered me along. My heels began to echo around me.

So we were in a tunnel, but what tunnel was totally beyond me, because Jude had made me close my eyes the moment I’d answered the door this evening. Other than driving around in his ancient rumble-wagon of a truck for the better part of a Friday date night, I’d lost my bearings in every way a girl could ever lose them.

Given the fact that Jude Ryder was my fiancé, my bearings had been a tad off-kilter for the past few years, but they were especially off the grid tonight.

Did this tunnel have an end? The longer we continued down it, the louder my footsteps echoed around us.

“Is whatever you’re up to illegal?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know.

“Is that a trick question?” he said, sounding amused.

“Is that a trick answer?”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I felt his mouth warm the skin at the base of my neck. One full breath out, and one full breath in, slow and deep and suffocating, before his lips grazed the heated patch of skin.

I tried not to react like his touch was hardwired to drive every bit of me crazy, but even after years together, Jude could still unravel me with one touch. My skin was pricking to life with tiny goose bumps that trailed down to my lower back when his mouth pulled away.

“There will most certainly be high points tonight that could be classified as illegal in every one of the Bible Belt states,” he said, his voice low with desire. Not quite as rough as it got when he needed me right then and there; it was still restrained enough that I knew he wasn’t going to throw me up against the nearest wall and start fisting up my skirt before we got a step farther. “Does that answer your question?”

“No,” I said, trying to sound controlled. Trying to sound like he hadn’t made my stomach clench with desire from one kiss. “It doesn’t answer my question. So let’s try this again . . .” I cleared my throat, reminding myself I was trying to sound unaffected. “In whatever never-ending hallway you’re leading me down, toward whatever location you’re aiming to wind up at, could either one of these trespasses be considered illegal if we were to be tried in court?”

He didn’t make a noise, but I knew he was trying to contain a chuckle. One of those low, rumbling ones that vibrated through my body when he was pressed up against me. “Since you put it that way . . .” he started, stopping me suddenly. His hands left my shoulders and tapped my eyelids. “Yes. It could be. However,” he said, “they’d have to catch us first. Open your eyes, babe.”

I blinked my eyes a few times to make sure what I was seeing was real.

After another half dozen blinks, I could be reasonably certain that what my eyes were taking in was, in fact, real.

We were inside the Carrier Dome, just at the mouth of one of the tunnels. However, this was the dome like I’d never seen it in the past three years of attending almost every home game. At the center of the field, right at the fifty, a blanket was spread out, and what looked like a picnic basket rested in one corner. A smattering of white candles in clear jars were dotted around the blanket. It was still, silent, and peaceful.

Not the first three words you’d usually use to describe a college football arena.

And this wasn’t the place a girl expected her fiancé would take her on a big surprise date he’d wanted her to get dressed up for.

I grinned.

Not what I’d expected, but exactly what I wanted.

“What do you think? This worth ‘illegal’?” he asked, winding his arms around my waist and tucking his chin over my shoulder.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the candlelit scene in front of me. A picnic on the fifty-yard line.

I knew it might not have ranked in the top-ten desired dates for most girls, but it hit the number-one spot for this girl.

“It’s only illegal if we get caught,” I answered, turning my head so he could see my smile, before breaking free of his arms and jogging over to the blanket.

This was the first time I’d been down on the field since Jude and I got engaged our freshman year of college, but it really did seem like it had been only a handful of days ago. I’d discovered another one of life’s clichés by being with Jude: The happier you are in life, the faster it passes you by. Life was one sick bastard if happy people were repaid with a life that seemed short. Short life or long life, it didn’t matter—I wasn’t giving up Jude either way.

At the twenty-five-yard line, I spun around, continuing to jog backward. Jude was still at the mouth of the tunnel, watching me with a grin, appearing as enamored by me as he had on the day he’d confessed his love. That look, more than any of the others, got to me in all the ways a guy’s look was supposed to “get” to his girl.

I perused the stands one more time to make sure we were alone. It felt so damn open in here, which was unnerving, but how many times could a girl say she’d been with the number-one-ranked college quarterback in the nation right on the fifty-yard line?

Yeah, this was a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and I wasn’t going to let it pass me by.

Inhaling a slow breath, I reached for the hem of my sweater and started sliding it up my stomach.

Jude’s expression changed instantly. His forehead lined deeper and one corner of his mouth twitched.

Raising a brow, I lifted the rest of my sweater, tugging it over my head and dropping it onto the Astroturf. My adrenaline was pumping. The anticipation of having Jude with me set it off, and the thrill of being here was firing it to new heights.

Winding my arms behind my back, I unclasped my bra. It snapped free, sliding down my arms to join the sweater at my feet.

Jude wasn’t looking at my face any longer.

Wetting his lips, he started toward me.

I started my backward journey again, flicking him a coy smile. I was going to have fun with him, draw this out. Get even with him for what he so often did to me.

He stopped as soon as I started moving away, staring at me like he knew exactly what game I was playing and he both loved and hated being a pawn in it.

Pausing just long enough to step out of my heels, I slid my thumbs under the waist of my skirt and lowered it down my hips, slowing just enough to gather the material of my panties with it. I let both skirt and underwear gather at my ankles.

Jude’s eyes drifted lower, his chest rising and falling noticeably, even from where I stood thirty yards away from him. When his eyes did shift back to mine, they were dark with one thing.

Absolute need.

His body sprang to action as he burst onto the field after me, running at the same pace he did when he was playing a game. I turned and laughed with every step as I ran away from him.

It was a futile effort, running from Jude—both right now, and in life in general.

Jude always caught up with me. Sometimes he gave me a head start, but he never let me get too far.

This time, I barely made it ten yards before I felt his strong arms cinch around me. A shout of surprise punctuated my laughter as he pulled me hard against him. Not only had he managed to cover thirty yards in the time it had taken me to sprint less than a third of that, he’d removed his shirt in the process. The heat coming off his chest warmed my back, and the movement of his muscles against me as he breathed in and out warmed everything else.

“Going somewhere?” he said, nudging at my neck until I gave him better access to it.

“Anywhere,” I answered, letting my head fall back against him when his mouth smoothed down the arch of my neck. “As long as you’re with me.”

I felt his smile against my skin. His hands slid lower, pausing when they reached my hips. “How would you feel about ‘anywhere’ being on that blanket over there?”

Everything south of my navel tightened. “I’d say even if I wasn’t so sure, you’d keep trying to persuade me,” I said, gliding my hands down his forearms, pausing to weave my fingers through his where they still rested over my hips.

He pressed harder against my back. “You’d be right,” he said, skimming our hands up my stomach as he steered us toward the blanket. Our hands didn’t stop until they slid beneath one of my br**sts, molding around it.

Nipping at the skin of my neck, he picked up his pace until we were weaving through the glowing candles. At the edge of the blanket, Jude spun me around. His mouth parted, as he sucked in streams of air in quick bursts. This was his tortured look. When he couldn’t have me fast enough.

It was a look I tried to savor, because it never lasted long. I could only hold Jude off for so long before me, him, or both of us gave up trying to prolong the inevitable.

“Damn, Luce,” he breathed, stroking my cheek with his hand. “You’re so beautiful.”

I smiled. Not so much at what he said, but at the way he said it. Jude conveyed his emotions and intentions in words and expressions that did unhealthy things to a girl’s heart. “If you’re trying to convince me with a little foreplay, I’ll let you in on a secret,” I said, winding my arms around the back of his neck. “You’re going to get lucky no matter what you say or do, so you can save the sweet nothings for a time when you’ve pissed me off and are trying to get a little makeup sex.”

He chuckled, his gray eyes darkening with every passing touch. “I don’t seem to remember it requiring sweet nothings to ever get you—”

“Oh, shut up already,” I interrupted, smirking up at him.

One corner of his mouth curved higher. “Why don’t you make me?” he challenged, his gaze dropping to my lips.

Pressing harder into him, I let my fingers ski down the plane of his stomach, settling on the fly of his jeans. Tugging the button free, I slid my hand inside as my lips covered his mouth, a groan escaping it.

That shut him right up.

TWO

Jude’s head reclined in my lap as he crunched into an apple and stared at the ceiling of the dome. He was still nak*d from the waist up, but his jeans hadn’t made it all the way off. Apparently we hadn’t been able to justify waiting the three seconds it would have taken to free him of them before we could get down to business.

We weren’t big believers in delayed gratification.

I’d wrangled myself back into my sweater and skirt before we’d exchanged one hunger for another and dived into the picnic basket, although my panties and bra still littered the thirty-yard line.

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