Within These Walls (The Walls Duet #1)(48)

“We need to slow down,” he said, smoothing back a few wild wisps of my hair, as he gently smiled down at me.

I nodded, dodging his green gaze, as I searched for my shirt.

“Lailah, look at me.”

I didn’t. I just continued my hunt until gentle fingers turned my head.

“What did I say? Tell me what I did wrong.”

“Would you have stopped if I were anyone else, Jude?” I asked, folding my hands over my plain white cotton bra. It was the same boring bra my mom had been buying for me since I was thirteen.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“I don’t want to be treated any differently,” I spit, finally finding my T-shirt wadded up near my feet.

I bent over to pick it up, but Jude stopped me midway.

“Well, deal with it,” he bit back. “I will treat you differently, not because of your heart problem or the fact that you think you’re physically fragile or weak. I’ll treat you differently because you’re different to me. You matter to me. I will not take your virginity in some random hospital when you’re still recovering from a virus that nearly killed you. You deserve a hell of a lot better than that. So, yeah, I’ll continue to treat you differently because I think you are worthy of more.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I said, stumbling over my words. “I thought—”

“You assumed I stopped because I thought you were so innocent and fragile? The girl writhing and moaning underneath me was neither of those things. I want you, Lailah. I want all of you in every way, but it won’t be here, not like this. I want you slow and tender, fast and hard, and everything in between. When we come together, it will be miles from this place, and I will spend hours helping you cross out that number on your list,” he said with a wink.

I opened my mouth to chastise him, but he spoke before I had the chance, “I know it’s got to be on there somewhere.”

“It is,” I answered. “Number one hundred and twenty-one.”

He smiled and bent down to brush a kiss across my lips.

“So, not number one then?” He reached back to grab my shirt and handed it to me.

“Nope.”

“What could be better than sex?” he joked, the little dimple on his cheek reappearing as he watched the soft cotton fabric float back over my skin.

“Hmm…I don’t know. Guess you’ll just have to find out.”





I want all of you in every way.

Jude’s heated words had continued to play through my mind well after he’d left, and they had been with me again as I rose the next morning.

Slow and tender…fast and hard.

I’d been a mindless, drooling puddle ever since. I couldn’t even remember what I’d eaten for breakfast. I’d been staring at the same blank page of my journal for well over an hour when my mother waltzed through the door.

“You’re here early,” I said, noting her dressed-down appearance. She was in jeans and a flowery blouse. It was different from the business-casual look she would wear when teaching.

“I canceled my classes today,” she said with a flick of her hand as she settled into the worn blue chair.

“You canceled your classes?” I repeated, tilting my head in shocked surprise.

Unless I was going into surgery or there was an emergency, my mom never canceled class. Her students must be rejoicing today.

“Yes, I wanted to speak to you—alone,” she answered, giving the last word specific emphasis.

“I see.”

Here it comes.

“I did a bit of research on your friend Jude,” she began.

“You did research, Mom?” I asked, holding up my hand to silence her.

“I Googled him.”

A small snort morphed into full-out laughter, and I wrapped my arms around my sides in an attempt to control the roaring inferno. “You…used Google?”

My mom was a teacher, a professor, but she hadn’t quite graduated to the twenty-first century. She carried a cell phone for emergencies. It flipped open and had exactly three numbers programmed into it—the hospital, our home, and Dr. Marcus. The laptop I owned had been given to her by a colleague when he decided to upgrade. My mom had taken one look at the thing and cringed. She used a desktop computer at work and considered it punishment.

According to my mother, all research should be done in a library. Google was for morons and perverts. The fact that she’d used it to look up Jude meant she was flustered and seriously frustrated.

“Yes, I was curious about the boy you’ve been spending so much time with.”

“Mom, he’s twenty-five. He’s hardly a boy.”

She ignored my comment and continued to watch me from her tattered blue throne. “Do you think he’ll take care of you? Is that what this is all about? He’s wealthy and powerful, so you think he’ll protect you?”

I stared at her, my mouth agape, before I let the shock wear off. “Is that what you think of me? What you think of him?”

“I don’t know him,” she answered.

“No, but you know me. Do you think I’d do that? Hand myself over on a silver platter?” I spit.

“I did,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Men promise all sorts of things when they want something, especially when it involves a woman. Your father was no different.”