a wry grin, and Kicks couldn’t help but roll his eye again.
“Okay, but it’s not the same as becoming a fucking rabbi.”
Jude laughed and shook his head, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against the side of Kicks’ neck. “No, it’s not the same. But it’s not entirely different either.” He pulled back and captured Kicks’ gaze, his thumb brushing his soft, half-closed lid. “No matter how much I question what I’m doing, or how much I feel like a fraud some days, it hasn’t shaken my faith. That part—it’s solid. My connection to God is part of me—like one of my limbs.”
Kicks’ face softened, and he couldn’t help but trace another collection of Jude’s freckles. “It’s still not the same,” he told him quietly, then leaned in and stole a kiss because in the moment, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to be greedy and hoard every single one Jude would let him have. “This is my family, you know? We’re ride or die—literally. And I trust them, because in the years I’ve been here with them, they’ve proven to me that it goes both ways.”
Jude let out a long, slow breath, then sagged forward and rested his cheek against the center of Kicks’ chest. The position was almost more intimate than the fucking, and it was unsettling, but he was desperate to hold on. “I understand. My faith doesn’t need proof.”
“I envy that,” Kicks admitted. He dug his fingers into Jude’s hair, letting his curls twist around his fingers. They were somewhere between coarse and soft and still a little damp from how hard he’d been sweating. “For me, it feels like I’m just waiting for everyone to prove me wrong. Like I got involved in this shit, just so they could show the world what a gullible asshole I am.”
Jude’s fingers danced up his back, tracing around his scars. “Because of this?”
“Nah. That was from me bein’ stupid enough to get wasted and flirt with some hick in a country bar in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere.” He pulled back a little and pressed his thumb to Jude’s chin. When the man’s lips parted, he took another kiss—deep, possessive, messy. He didn’t want to talk about this, but Jude had a way of pulling the words out of him, of exposing all those tender, vulnerable parts he kept well hidden. “People just haven’t been all that nice to me over the years.”
Jude said nothing, and Kicks didn’t realize how grateful he was that the man understood just how much he didn’t want to hear another placation or that he deserved better.
The silence stretched between them.
Then, after a beat, Jude dug his hands into Kicks’ hair and kissed him again—with sharp teeth and clawing nails down his spine. His body heated up, and he rolled onto his back, and he let Jude give and take every single ounce of Kicks’ worth.
14
Jude was convinced he’d feel some sort of profound regret after spending the night in Emilio’s bed. It was bad enough he’d caved so quickly to his demand that Jude pack his things and leave the comfort of his little condo, and he’d been determined to keep space between them. But Emilio had come into the house and had looked so needy and just short of desperate, Jude had no defense against him.
He was coming to realize a little too quickly how his brother had fallen for a man like Aaron. There was danger—yes. More than he wanted to think about. His knee was a constant reminder that he’d gotten off lucky. And it wasn’t really the danger that made it seem enticing and forbidden—it was the way Emilio bent to his will.
It was the way he would drop to his knees—literal or metaphorical. It was how eager he was to give up his pride and his control and let Jude own him for those long, agonizingly hot moments. It was a rush, but it was something more than that too. It felt…right.
He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that, but for now, he could bask in what they were allowing themselves to keep between them. Jude had no illusions that Emilio was going to declare his love and ask for his hand or whatever rubbish happened in the romance novels he loved so much. But he was hoping he wouldn’t have to stay some dirty little secret either.
Whether that meant being together or falling apart—he’d never really fancied a stay in any closet.
He woke