Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“The one I found you eating alive in the steam room?” My fork hits the plate, my lips straight, and Jude peeks at me with only mild wariness. “Jenson,” he says. “A PT from the gym. I think I need to call him and apologise.”
That’s comforting too. He’s got self-awareness. Owns his mistakes. “And maybe offer him his job back,” I say. “I’ve been thinking about getting a PT for a while.”
“Stop it, Amelia.” Jude smiles down at his champagne. “If a man has something he wants, shouldn’t he guard it with his life?”
“Only if the other person wants to be wanted.”
“Do you want me to want you?”
My silence speaks volumes, but he wants more.
“Well?” Turning toward me, he leans forward, his elbow on the table. “Tell me, Amelia.” His spare hand slides up my dress again. “Do you want me to want you?” I go stiff in my seat as his finger slips past my knickers and reacquaints itself with the slickness. “I’d say you do,” he whispers, pushing deep and high, his moist lips parting as he watches me swallow and tremble. “I think we’re done debating this.” He pulls out of me and returns his body forward, sucking his finger and taking more champagne.
I shake my head in wonder, my attention caught by that woman, Katherine, again. She quickly looks away when our eyes meet. It’s beginning to get awkward. Everyone else seems to have lost interest, the novelty of Jude Harrison dining with a woman wearing off, but not for her.
“That woman,” I say, discreetly indicating with my glass. “With the blond guy.”
Jude doesn’t look, just hums.
“Who is she?”
“Nobody.”
My eyebrows raise in surprise at his quick, definitive answer. “You don’t even know who I’m pointing to.”
His jaw pulses a little, and he makes a meal of showing the inconvenience I’m causing him, turning slowly in his chair to look behind him. Then he turns back. “That’s Katherine Jenkins and her husband, Rob. They’re members of the golf club and health club and often dine and drink in one of the bars or restaurants here.”
“Oh,” I say quietly.
“And on that note.” Jude stands, and my gaze rises with him. He pulls the champagne out of the bucket and rests it on the table, letting the cloth soak up the melted ice on the bottom of the bottle. His eyes smoke, the green shining through, and my insides burst into flames. “I believe your pussy has a date with my cock.”
I stare up at his tall body looming over me, not as shocked as I should be.
Here he is. Jude Harrison.
Dragging the champagne across the tablecloth, he blinks lazily, his eyes making a thousand promises, before he turns and walks away. My stare is nailed to his back as he goes, his gait smooth, his strides long, the champagne swinging by his thigh.
“Fuck,” I whisper. This is about to go to another level. I gaze across the table, at our unfinished meals, my head and my heart at war.
Help.
I call the girls.
“How’s it going?” Abbie is first in, as always.
“Do I need to come knock some sense into you?” Charley asks.
“Probably.”
“Why?” they say in unison.
“Because I’m about to follow him into the unknown.”
I don’t wait around to see if they try to talk sense into me. Maybe because I’m worried they’ll succeed. I hang up and stand, knocking back the last inch of my fizz. I don’t know who I was trying to fool, convincing myself I was having dinner with him to talk. He proved that plan null and void the moment he put his hand on my knee. But we did talk, and damn him, damn me, I enjoyed getting to know him more. I liked what I heard, saw something more vulnerable and genuine beneath the confident facade and boldness.
But I like his boldness. I like that he overpowers the inherent, constant focus I have on achieving. I like the reprieve he offers me. The calmness I find in emptying my mind and being in the moment with him. Red flags be damned.
I follow Jude, mildly unsettled by the pull leading me. Only mildly. Everything inside is screaming at me to explore this. I’m laser focused as I walk through the tables, my eyes forward, my mind at peace. I can’t say no. Won’t say no.
When I make it into the lobby, I look up at the sweeping staircase as I move, seeing Jude halfway up, his suit jacket now off, the material of his crisp white shirt stretched across his broad back. I take the handrail and the first step, my heels steady, my heart steady, the beats sharp but consistent, my neck craned to keep my eyes on him as I ascend. He stops at the top and looks back at me following, reaching for his tie and tugging it loose.