She Coyote

41. In the Death of the Dawn

COYOTE
Jude's bare chest felt warm and was speckled with beads of sweat as I sat ontop of his lap, my hands on him. The chill of the fan blew my hair and helped dispel the heat that managed to swell up in the room. My mind wasn't racing anymore, thanks to Jude's hands and his heart and his love.

Only a day had passed since my encounter with Anthony, and all I was able to do to forget it was explore the expanse of skin covering the black haired, blue eyed boy I fell in love with. His tattoos only appeared in concentrated parts of his body, mostly on his upper chest, shoulders, neck and arms. He had a pocket knife tattoo on his hip with the name "George" written in wispy calligraphy. He told me it was his late grandfather's name. He also had "HEROIN" tattooed on his side, written in plain, all caps. I tried my hardest not to tease him about it, although it wasn't that hard to avoid any form of laughter. I was depressed. Jude sensed it.

He adjusted his seating, his head resting on the wall behind us. He held my hands and gently traced his thumbs over my palms. "You're quiet," he observed, one side of his lips tugging up ever so slightly.

"You're not," I referenced his overactive urge to talk during anything sexual. Usually I wouldn't mind, but what I wanted most right now was heated, lustful silence. As if that even existed.

He rolled his eyes and brought one of my palms to his mouth and pressed a kiss against it, his eyelids fluttering closed. I loved how he looked, I couldn't stop blushing at the way his ebony bangs fell carelessly in front of his face. "You love it," he murmured jokingly. I could feel his lips moving as he spook.

"I love you," I told him and he grinned up at me childishly.

"Say that again," he requested.

"I love you," I repeated, my voice lowered. His head fell back, his eyes closed dazed. They opened again, and he moved his fingers to draw lines over my bare skin, my chest and shoulders and collarbone.

"I love you," he said softly, focused on the way my skin turned red as he ran his thumb over and under the curve of my breasts. "You're like a painting," he mused quietly, then flicked his eyes back up to meet mine. "So, so beautiful, it's insane."

"Bullshit," I rebuffed quietly, looking up at the ceiling.

"Bullshit? What do you mean, bullshit, look at you, huh? You're like a goddamn goddess, it's ridiculous." He waved his hand in the air then motioned it up and down me as if I would suddenly see the hidden beauty that Jude was able to find.

I chuckled and shook my head. "Goddess of death," I replied. "Because I look like a corpse."

"The prettiest corpse I ever saw," he pulled me close to him and kissed my nose, making me laugh and grin into his cheek. "And I've seen a lot of corpses," he teased into my ear.

"Oh yeah? Anyone I know?" I asked.

"Remember Old Man Joe? The guy gave me the wrong amount of change back at the drug store and I lopped his head off with one punch. True shit, swear on my life."

"Old Man Joe?" I repeated through a shaky laugh and he nodded excitedly.

"Yeah, remember that guy?" He chuckled.

"He was an asshole, glad you took care of it." I held his face in my hands, his fingers grabbing ahold of my bare thighs.

"No problem, I'd kill anyone for you," he responded and then suddenly grew quiet. I glanced down, aware of the sudden change in the room.