Finally, I man up and lift my stare to hers. Sparks. Fireworks. A fucking grand finale. Like a charge in a wire connected for the first time, my heart bursts with the energy.
Does she feel it too?
Should I kiss her? God, I want to. Taste her. Press my mouth to hers. It’s her lips, lush and plump and currently painted in a shade of ruby red, that encourage a barrage of illicit ideas to rush my mind. They’re full of fire, like her spirit. They’re soft too, like her curves. And fuck if I don’t crave them on me, all over my body, wrapped around my cock. I can’t look away.
“Um, I—” She steps back and breaks the bond between us. She crouches and sets Walter down. He wanders away, looking as stunned as I feel. “Room.” She clears her throat and walks back over to retrieve the bags she ditched earlier. “Where’s my room?”
“Right.” I clear my throat, and subsequently adjust myself to hide my semi. “This way.”
The click of her heeled boots and the tap of Walter’s nails as they click across the marble flooring are my only indication she is in fact following me. I don’t dare look back. The thread of self-control I yield wavers in a way that makes me feel reckless and foolish all at once. Much like a hormonal teenager, and I can’t decide whether I hate or love the control she has over me.
“The kitchen’s through there. Living room. Help yourself to whatever.”
“Is there a grocery store nearby?”
“There’s a list in the kitchen. Just add whatever you need.”
“You don’t—” She sighs and shakes her head. “Of course you don’t.”
I can’t help but stop and turn at her incredulous tone. “What?”
“I can buy my own groceries, Jude.”
“So can I.” I roll my eyes. “I can also hire someone to do it for me, so I do. It’s silly for you to go out when I already have someone doing it, but if you insist . . . I can’t stop you.”
She bristles, but doesn’t say anything. Probably because she knows I’m right. I don’t flaunt my worth, but I don’t make excuses for it either. I don’t give a damn what most people think. But I feel the need for her to understand I’m not some pretentious dick. I’ve worked hard to earn this life. While she’s staying here, she’s my guest. I’ll treat her better than anyone who’s stayed here before. Because I can, and because I want to.
“This is the hall bathroom.” I flip on the light as I pass.
“And my room?”
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Do you want the bedroom with the adjoining shower and Jacuzzi tub?”
Her mouth hangs agape and nervous laughter bubbles out. “Um, yes?”
“Then, the master suite is through that door.” I point at my bedroom.
“Jude.” She rolls her eyes, and her shoulders relax. “I already told you I’m not sleeping with you.”
“Not with me. I’ll take one of the guest suites. You can have my bedroom. It’s more comfortable and the bathroom is right out of a magazine.” Literally. The design was featured in a lifestyle publication last year. Also, there’s something thrilling about the thought of her laying in my sheets. On my bed. Even if I don’t get to be there to experience it.
“You are not giving me your room. Seriously, Jude.” She exhales and her shoulders slump as if she’s weighed down. “This is all too generous.”
“Come on, sweetheart. One night in my sheets and you’ll never want to leave.”
Her eyes widen. I think I’ve stunned her into silence.
With a chuckle, I reach for her bags and walk them straight to my room. Satisfaction fills my chest. I’ve won this round. I can’t wait for the next one. By the time her Iron Maiden is ready, she’ll never want to leave, and for some reason that doesn’t sound as scary as it should.
23
Rachel
What am I doing here? Jude’s condo is right out of a movie set—and I’d know. If my luck holds out, they’re where I work. But oh, God, this place. I could get used to this bedroom. Seriously, it’s like a serene hideaway made up of rich woods, the softest fabrics, and a layout that must’ve been designed by a feng shui expert. It’s decadent. Nicer than any room I’ve ever set foot in, and I’ve had my fair share of adult sleepovers. But that was the old Rae, and those were bedrooms of men I pictured sharing a forever with. Which only begs the same question.
What the hell am I doing here?
Obviously, it’s to avoid my vile roommates. But agreeing to stay with Jude? That’s insanity. I don’t even know him. Not really. But you wanted to kiss him. I did. I couldn’t help it when he started talking about Walter. Something came over me, an urge so basic and animalist I almost gave over to the pull. I wanted his lips on mine. I swear by the look in his eyes he wanted it too.
Which is stupid, dangerous, and not at all a good idea. The logical side of my brain agrees. But the other . . . it wonders how his hard body would feel pressed to mine. Part of me knows it’d be explosive—the best kind of good. My stomach twists and dips, my nerves bubbling with anticipation. No, I can’t go there. I am not going there. It’s been a long day and I’m not thinking straight. I’m in a vulnerable place. That must be it.
Even now as I unpack in Jude’s home, I feel unhinged. Reckless. On edge.
My hands shake with anger as I remember this morning’s altercation.
The thought of facing Crystal again, or anyone in that apartment other than Jenni, boils my blood. But I’ll deal with that in
