A/N: As always, thanks to the people who feed my comment addition (jackjackio, lileigh760, Adrienne, melodie568, Judeh05, TommyQLovr, punky19958, cecapo3610, LuvTommy56, bookworm0408, Tommy4eva, burninsecretskept, 4everobsessed, aubibi, LittleZurawski, and RockerChick13) by reviewing for the last chapter.

"Jude," I sigh, looking her in the eyes. Just tell me what you're thinking girl. I plead quietly.

She's looking at our hands mashed together. She suddenly slips her hand away from mine. She's glaring at me coldly as she takes a few feet away from me. "Tommy I don't know whether to scream or throw something…or, or," she's ranting, storming around now. "Who does this? Who comes up to someone like this hours after someone just proposed to you and tells you that they're in love with you?" she says.

I'm not sure if she's talking to herself or me. I'm going to assume that that's a rhetorical question.

"I mean really who does that?" she says, directing that to me.

Well duh Jude, I do…

"It's better now than never right?" I shrug. Or before the wedding. Or during the wedding.

She apparently finds that pretty funny. She's laughing, so I laugh a little uneasily too. " 'Better now than never,'" she mocks me, bitterly.

The next thing I know she's throwing the pillows and cushions at me. "What the hell Tommy? Over the past 5 years this is the best time you could think of to tell me this? You are just brilliant!"

"Hey now," I interject, as a dodge a pillow cushion. "I could have said it at the church when the preacher said: Speak now or forever hold your peace." I joke.

Um…that was definitely the wrong thing to say.

She looks at me disbelievingly. "You're kidding. You have to be kidding," she laughs. She's got to stop that maniac-like laugh she's got going on.

After she paces for a few minutes, she stops in front of me, and promptly burst out laughing. "Am I being Punk'd?" she asks, her hand on her hip.

I can't help but to let out a nervous laugh. "No…"

Big mistake. She whacks me with a pillow cushion several times, and then she begins her pacing again.

"Jude, I'm sorry," I sigh. I don't know what to do anymore.

She stops in front of me again, her face softening considerably. She's closing in the space between us. I'm not sure if she's going to kill me…if she is…I can't run. She's got me cornered. "Liar," she mutters. "You are not sorry."

I shrug. "You're right, I'm not sorry, but I don't want you to be upset with me."

"Ha!" she says, moving even closer to me. "How'd did you think I'd react? Did you think I'd melt at your feet and be all "I love you too Tommy"?"

I shrug. I must admit, that's how it was going on in my head.

"That's what you thought," she asks. Then she nods, answering her own question. "Right?"

I nod slightly, looking down at my feet.

"Guess what Thomas," she snaps, "The world does not turn because of you. I cannot throw away a perfectly good relationship jus--"

At this point I begin to tune her out, I'm staring at her lips. She looks beautiful, in her white sundress, the sea breeze doing some wonderful things with her hair—the moonlight making her skin seem to glow.

Hell, enough is enough. I grab her by the waist, easily picking her up and sitting her on the porch railing. A look of disbelief is upon her lips as I quickly kiss her. The type of soft, sensual kiss that I'm infamous for.

After a couple of minutes, she roughly pushes me away, breathing hard. Then out of nowhere her hand comes across my face. I look at her, pissed for a minute. A slightly apologetic look crosses her face, but it disappears quickly.

"Who the hell do you think you are," she snaps, her voice trembling with anger.

Okay so I'm thinking that's a wrap, but the next thing I know she's throwing me against the railing, kissing me angrily. I forget the slap across my face, and focus on her hands roaming everywhere on me, finally running her fingers through my hair. I just push away all the confusion in my head and I let her do whatever she wants.

I must say it's a little weird for me to be being dominated like this. I like it though, for the time being.

She bites my bottom lip, tugging gently as she snatches off my shirt leaving me bare-chested. I glanced down at the condition of my shirt…damn—in tatters. Okay, Jude, to hell with the seams, to hell with the buttons. I pause and look at her curiously.

"What?" she sighs, frustrated, "Like you don't have another one just like it…" Her fingernails raking my now bare back. As I reach for the hem of her dress, she slaps my hand away from her, breaking our kiss temporarily.

"No."

"No". What the hell does she mean no? I'm about to ask her, but her lips crash into mine again. So apparently it doesn't mean no we can't do this. It's heating up out here, despite the light breeze.

I bravely rotate us so her back is against the column. She breaks the kiss again giving me that who-do-I-think-I-Am look again.

I ignore her this time, continuing what she started. My hand slips beneath her skirt with no objections this time. I grab her thigh and lift it so that her leg is wrapped around my waist, as we both slide down to the floor upon all of the pillows she threw there earlier.

She's in my lap basically; her legs are wrapped around me tight, clutching me even closer to her. It's like we can't get close enough to each other.

After a few minutes, I notice her get quieter, a lot more submissive, and did I mention a lot quieter. Damn, something's off.

"Tell me what you want," I (hate to say it like this, but there's no better word to describe it) purr, before biting her ear.

"You know what I want," she murmurs, running her manicure across my chest.

Welp. I know what her body wants.

I pull her even closer to me, running her fingers through her hair, planting kisses all over her neck.

"Oh god,"

I'm pretty sure that was good oh god.

"Reassure me," I smirk, as I kiss down into her plunging neckline. "Tell. Me. What. You. Want."

"More of that," she succumbs, withering as I make my way down even further, reaching for the halter straps around her neck. She helps me out a little by holding up her hair.

As I'm memorizing every inch of her chest—with my lips, I notice her getting quiet once again. Now, I'd think her being a singer, well vocalist, she'd be a little more vocal in all of this.

Taking a break for a minute, I make her look at me. "I'm not doing anything unless you ask for it," I murmur, between kisses on her neck. She (again the only word to describe it correctly) whimpers in response.

"Oh. You can't talk now?"

"Oh god," she shudders, as I lick (and suck) just above her right ear. "That's my spot."

Yes! Jack pot! Advance to go and collect $200!

"Oh you like that, do you?" I smirk.

Cocky.

Arrogant.

I know. I know. I usually work on it. What do you expect here? Testosterone is pumping…it's like I can feel the blood rushing to—well you know…below the waist.

"Yeah," she gasps, in a 'duh' tone, trembling in my arms. Ha! Trembling…

And then…she starts to gently grind her hips in my lap.

She's going to have to stop that.

Now.

"Oh. You like that, do you," she mocks me.

I gently guide her down onto her back, lightly raising her skirt as I go.

"Oh god," she groans.

Shit.

Not a good oh god. Like a hold up, wait a minute oh god.

Red alarms and flashing lights are going off in my head.

"Anyone could walk in on us,"

I laugh, shaking my head, standing up and pulling her up along with me.

False alarm.

I'm already finished returning pillow cushions and the toss pillows to their respective places on the wicker furniture, and she's still standing there trying to straighten out her outfit. To hell with that…that dress is just coming off anyway—just as soon as I get her upstairs that is. I pick her up and throwing her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Quincy…" she grumbles.

"Jude."

"Not that I'm not enjoying the view of your ass…but could you please put me down."

"No," I reply, matter-of-factly, sliding my hand up her thigh.

"Hey, stop that," she commands, slapping my ass.

"Stop what?" I ask, moving my hand up further.

"Quincy…" she laughs.

As I carry her through the lobby, an elderly couple is waiting to go up in the elevator as well, "Good evening," I nod, nonchalantly.

"Good evening," The old man replies, trying to look under Jude's dress without being obvious.

His wife throws me a dirty look and roll her eyes, "We'll take the stairs Bernard," she says, holding fast to his arm, as the elevator doors open.