CHAPTER NINE
Charley
“What the hell Charley!?” Naomi shouts through the phone.
“I didn’t want to be rude! What was I supposed to do?” I argue, flipping through the pages of my sketch book, trying to simultaneously sketch and appease Naomi all at once.
I swear the groan she emits just then could be heard across the Atlantic. “Tell him that you’re on a date with another guy and that it’s rude to ask you out like that!”
I huff, falling back on my bed with a thud and scattering my sketchbook to the floor. I cringe thinking of the bent corners I’ve just caused.
“Jude never said it was a date! And I tried to get him to look at me, to give me some sign that I should say no, but he shrugged it off. He didn’t care, and I felt like a complete idiot, so I said yes.”
“What happened after Hudson left?” she asks as if she’s a detective interrogating me under a harsh bulb.
I swallow and try to say the next sentence as calmly as possible. “I invited Jude to go with us to the club. He said he’d invite a date and we could all go as a group.”
No, saying it slowly didn’t make the phrase sound any better out loud.
“Which proves everything, Naomi. If he wants to invite a date then he isn’t upset that Hudson invited me.”
The sinking feeling in my stomach threatens to consume me as silence fills the phone line. I focus on the world through my window, contemplating mind over matter. If I tell my stomach and my heart and my legs and my eyes and my ears to stop pining for Jude, shouldn’t I be able to do it?
“You’re a fool. He said that to protect himself. He wants you, or he wouldn’t have invited you to get coffee. Which means you’re going to look freaking sexy tomorrow, and you’re going to prove to Jude that you want him and not dumb Hudson.”
“I don’t know, Naomi… Last time I attempted that it didn’t turn out so well.” My cheeks still burn looking at the spot near my nightstand where I drunkenly stood and stripped for Jude. I should wrap caution tape around the spot like it’s a crime scene. Lord knows I’ve avoided the four by four square as though physical remnants of my pride lay concealed under the varnished wood.
I drag a hand feebly down my face, wishing Naomi would let me go back to sketching already.
“This is different, really. I’m going to leave work at noon tomorrow and use a few personal hours so we can go shopping. You just have that catalog shoot in the morning, right?”
“Yes,” I murmur, knowing her mind is already made up, and maybe she’s right. I haven’t purchased any new clothes in a while because I’ve been saving all of my money from my modeling. A new dress would be nice.
“Perfect,” she chimes happily. “Let’s meet at Barney’s around one, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“And, Charley… Do not give up yet. We’ll figure this out. He wants you. I know it.”
Her confident rallying speech makes me feel like we’re in the middle of Rocky. I half expect her to show up outside of my door in a moment with boxing gloves and an iPod playing “Eye of the Tiger”.
…
Naomi and I are scrubbed, buffed, waxed, and plucked. There is not a strand of unwanted hair on either of our bodies, and the hair that’s left is lying in big, silky waves down our backs. After we found the perfect dresses in Barneys, we treated ourselves to a spa day and got our hair and makeup done. It’s been ages since I’ve pampered myself and I feel sexy. Too sexy. But Naomi assures me the dress isn’t too much. Obviously, I don’t believe her, but I’m rolling with it because even I think I look edible.
My gorgeous cream, lace dress has three-quarter length sleeves and a plunging v-neck. It has a tank dress lining and a sheer, open back. The tight dress hits my legs literally a few inches under my ass, but it’s practically vacuum-sealed to my body so I don’t have to worry about the cool fall air exposing my underwear, or lack thereof. The dress is too tight for anything other than a tiny thong, but at least my lady parts are covered. I just won’t be doing any bending over at the club. Naomi, bless her gorgeous self, has the same size feet as me and let me borrow her four inch, nude Louboutin pumps to finish off the look.
“This is going to be such a good night,” Naomi declares from the other side of the cab’s back seat. I turn toward her and smile.
“I love that lipstick color on you. Especially when everything else is so nude.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully and I laugh.
“It’s called Heat Wave. They used it on me at my photo shoot the other day so I picked some up on my way home.”
“Mmm…You look like a sex vixen,” Naomi mocks in a horrible Russian accent, making me laugh even more. The cab driver eyes us skeptically through the rear view mirror, and I can’t stop the giggles from taking me over. I’m completely giddy with the anticipation of seeing Jude soon. I don’t care that he’ll have a date. I just want to look at him. Know he’s real. That a guy is actually that sexy. I loved our conversation on Wednesday. It felt so natural to sit with him like that, tucked away in the corner of a coffee shop.
Naomi’s phone vibrates in her hand and her chocolate brown waves conceal her face as she bends to check it. “The guys just got there,” she says, reading off her text message.
“Cool,” I say, feigning calmness as I glance through the cab window. “Guess I should let Hudson know I’m on my way,” I mumble, even though that’s the last thing I want to do.
Naomi checks her lipgloss in her small silver compact before stuffing it back into her clutch. “I’m glad it’s cold enough for coats. That way, when we get inside the club, we can take them off and make a real entrance.”
I smile, shifting my gaze back toward her. “Why am I not surprised that Miss Drama Queen would love a grand entrance?”
She winks at me and slings her coat open to reveal her long-sleeve, black bodycon dress. “Please. With dresses like these,” she points her finger between both of us, “you can’t NOT have a dramatic entrance.”
I shake my head slowly, “Remind me to sign you up for a reality show when we get home. You’d be a celebrity in no time.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she huffs dramatically, although I know it’s secretly her dream job. Getting paid to be crazy? She would never leave. “Not unless the Kardashians need a new sister. I’d have to change my name to Kaomi, but it’d be worth it.”
I’m still laughing at her fake name when the cab pulls up in front of Hudson’s new club, but the moment I spy Jude through the window, every ounce of humor is completely wiped from my body. Holy.
He and Bennett are standing outside on the curb talking to Hudson. There’s a winding line of people waiting to get into the swanky club. It wraps around the entire building. Girls shiver in their short skirts, checking their makeup and complaining constantly no doubt. Guys shuffle back and forth impatiently, checking out those same short skirts and trying to move closer to their prey for the night.
I knew Hudson’s club opening would be packed, but this is insane. Naomi reaches over to pay the cabdriver since I bought our lunches at the spa earlier, and I follow her out into the chilly night air. Music pounds from the club doors, reverberating through my body and joining the already pulsing rhythm of my heartbeat. And then my eyes fall on him again and everything else melts away.
Dark tousled hair, dark stubble, and icy blue eyes. Black fatigue jacket, a white t-shirt pulling taut against his muscled abs leading down to dark jeans, and his sexy leather boots. I lick my lips, tasting the sweetness of my bright red lipstick. He hasn’t seen me yet. He’s turned toward Hudson and Bennett with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. I would have stood there, frozen in desire, but Naomi pulls me forward and I follow blindly. As we walk up, cat calls sound from the crowd of people waiting in line and the guys turn toward the commotion. There are dozens of people on the sidewalk, but I don’t notice them because our eyes meet and the air ignites between us. His searing gaze glides from my eyes, to my lips, to my jacket and then slowly down my long, exposed legs. I want to squirm beneath his appraisal, but I can’t move. He’s got every motor unit in my body in lockdown. When he finally meets my eyes again, a fiery need burns behind his blue gaze and I can’t help but smirk. He hasn’t even seen the dress yet.
Just then, Hudson glides in front of me, cutting off the magnificent view and dowsing the once sizzling air. He reaches out to grip my shoulder in greeting, but his hand feels cold and my first instinct is to shirk away from his touch. I keep my eyes focused on the lapel of his black suit jacket as I try to will myself to plaster on a genuine smile.
“You look great, Clarissa,” he offers as his eyes peruse the same path Jude’s had only seconds earlier. Can he see that my skin’s already been set ablaze by someone else? I barely glance over his preppy suit and tie, but I offer him a friendly smile. His dirty blonde hair is gelled back, displaying all of his handsome features, but strangely I don’t see the appeal like I once did.
“Hi Hudson, thanks so much for inviting us. This place is packed.” I tuck my hands into my coat pocket, realizing how chilly the night air is without Jude’s eyes warming my body. “And actually I go by Charley now,” I clarify, hoping he’ll accept the transition without question.
A brief scowl covers his features before he offers a curt nod and turns toward the group.
“C’mon guys, let’s go inside.” Naomi squeals in excitement as Hudson’s hand hits the small of my back over my coat and dress. It’s not a crude gesture, but my eyes immediately dart to Jude as a wave of guilt hits me. Do I expect him to be upset? If so, I should be relieved to see him lift his eyebrows and smile before turning on his heel and leading the way inside.
Heavyset bouncers man the entry, allowing clusters of people to enter every now and then. But when our group walks up, they quickly part the crowd and let us enter with a quick flourish of velvet rope.
Everyone in line boos in protest behind us. I doubt they realize Hudson is one of the owners. They probably just think we’re VIPs or something, which I guess tonight we are. That thought should excite me more and it really was nice of him to invite us, but I’m not sure what he’s expecting from me. Surely he’ll be too busy to actually spend time with us.
The moment we enter the club, the flashing lights and music consume my senses. Sexy dancers in spandex shorts and crop tops dance on platforms as hoards of club-goers circle around the bar and dance floor. There must be hundreds of people inside, but it’s hard to tell in the sexy darkness of the club. Neon lights strobe above the room, illuminating certain areas and casting others into darkness. Our group doesn’t stop until we reach a set of black, glossy stairs that can only lead to trouble.
“We’ll check your coat in VIP. It’ll take less time to get them later on,” Hudson shouts in my ear, and I nod. I’d forgotten I was even wearing it. The club isn’t hot, but I imagine once we hit the dance floor we’ll warm up nicely.
The glossy stairs don’t take us to another floor. The seven steps simply raise the VIP area above the rest of the club so that we’re on an exclusive level. A thin glass railing rims the parameter of the VIP section, further dividing the club between the haves and the have-nots.
Just as my nude Louboutins step onto the second stair, a fast beat takes over the sound system and the entire club erupts in shouts. I twist toward the noise, forcing Hudson’s hand from my back on accident, and spot a house DJ spinning on a stage a few feet away from the VIP area. He’s got a flat-billed hat turned backward and a bright neon shirt over sagging jeans. I recognize his upbeat mix from the radio and the crowd is going wild so I know he must be famous.
Okay, this is pretty cool. Naomi turns around and the absolute joy written across her face says it all.
After we all check out the DJ, Hudson leads the group to a table in the center of the VIP area. A pretty waitress appears to grab our coats. Naomi and I unbutton them and just as I let the wool material drift down my arms, I feel Jude’s gaze practically devouring me, heating the air and caressing my skin with unspoken desire. I can’t look at him; I let my sexy curls hide my face as I try to remember to breathe.
“Wow,” Hudson’s tongue practically falls to the floor as his eyes hover a beat too long on the v-neck of my dress. I know it’s revealing quite a handful of cleavage. Damn you, Naomi.
I glance up toward my traitorous friend and watch her mouth, “Own it.” Easier said than done, but she’s right. I should own it. I flip my hair behind my shoulder and glance up. Everyone’s seated at the table now except for Hudson and me, so I tuck my hands behind the back of my dress and slide into the seat directly opposite Jude. He’s eyeing me with a wicked grin and smoldering eyes; I wish I knew what was going through his thoughts right now. Everything seemed platonic at the coffee shop, even though my emotions were going haywire. Tonight feels different, like we’re both letting our guards slip and forgetting about the repercussions.
I don’t have time to wonder about it further though because Hudson turns to me, leaning in, and pulling me into a private conversation. That’s when it hits me. Jude didn’t bring a date. What the hell? He didn’t bring a date. I glance up briefly. He’s chatting with Naomi and Bennett, but maybe his date will meet us here?
“Charley,” Hudson says slowly, trying out my new name and pulling my attention back to him. “How have you been since high school? I mean obviously you’ve done well for yourself. You’re looking sexy as hell.” His breath carries remnants of tobacco and a vision of my mother prancing around the house with a glass of wine, nursing her second pack of cigarettes for the day, pops into my mind.
“I’ve been good.” I fidget awkwardly before folding my hands over my lap. I shouldn’t mind his compliment but for some reason it seems overly slick.
“You seem like you’re doing well too. Do you own many clubs?” I ask as my eyes glance around to take in my surroundings. They keep VIP so secluded that I can hardly see what the rest of the club looks like.
“This is the first. My dad wanted to diversify the business.”
“Well you guys did a great job. This place is really cool.”
Hudson’s gaze flits around everywhere as we talk. At first I assume he’s multi-tasking: trying to make sure his club’s opening is running smoothly while attempting to keep me entertained. But, I find myself following his gaze out of curiosity and my eyes land on a gorgeous brunette at the bar. She’s smiling over at him, practically eye-f*cking him even as I look on. I can’t help but laugh. I don’t mind; I don’t particularly want his attention on me, but we literally just got here.
“Oh, thanks. My dad and I worked really hard the last few months,” he answers, only half interested.
I nod, trying to salvage the remnants of our conversation and stay focused on him rather than Jude, but it’s becoming harder by the second.
“I hope your father is doing well.” My words are completely lost on him as the brunette from the bar walks over and starts to whisper in his ear. He smiles and wraps his hand around her waist, squeezing her ample curves and making her squeal in delight. I feel like a voyeur, watching them like this, but as I’m about to get up and offer her my seat, the brunette walks off and Hudson eyes me once again. Damn.
“So do you like modeling?” he asks, running his smooth hand across my shoulder. My skin bristles under his touch and I have to fight the urge to pull away once again. He literally just had that hand wrapped around some girl’s ass.
Does he not realize how slimy that is? I can feel Jude’s gaze on me, but I don’t want to look over. I don’t want him to witness Hudson treating me like a toy, so easily disposable.
“Um, yes. It’s a means to an end,” I say flatly.
“That’s great!” He responds over enthusiastically, and I realize he’s not listening to a word I say. He’s glancing over my shoulder making sexy eyes with a redhead girl at the next table. Does this guy have ADD or what? Luckily, the same waitress that took out coats comes back at that moment with a round of drinks, saving me from this strange purgatory.
“Awesome,” Bennett shouts, reaching for a drink.
“Don’t forget to make eye contact when you toast or you’ll have seven years of bad sex!” Naomi shouts, and we all laugh as we take our glasses.
She turns to Bennett and they playfully stare into each other’s eyes and tilt forward until they end up face to face. Bennett leans in, closing the gap, and gives her a sweet kiss. I smile and clink glasses with Hudson quickly, before he gets the same idea, then with Bennett and Naomi, purposely leaving Jude for last. He leans over the small table and looks directly into my eyes as our glasses clink. His gaze is completely unreadable. Is that anger clouding his blue eyes?
“We wouldn’t want that,” he murmurs huskily as our glasses unite. His tone and sexy words completely catch me off guard and as I start to pull my glass away, the mixed drink spills over onto my trembling hand. Before I can reach to get a napkin, Jude is there, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his warm lips. Every person at the table watches him gently suck the alcohol off my skin, and in a whoosh, all of the oxygen leaves the room. My entire body reacts: my lungs hang in suspension, my mouth drops open, and the throbbing between my legs feels untamable. I cannot believe he just did that. And I cannot believe how good his lips felt on my skin.
The line has officially been crossed.
“Damn, Jude!” Naomi laughs, breaking the moment and lightening the mood. He laughs as if it was just a game and then drops my hand. The movement causes my nipples to pull against the lacey fabric of my dress and I feel the wetness now dampening my thong. His lips were on my skin for less than a second and he turned my entire body into a ball of hot desire. Smug bastard.
As I adjust my dress and awkwardly take my seat, Hudson’s arm hits the back of my chair with a thud. I can’t meet his eyes or Jude’s. Guilt hits my stomach and I’m not sure who it’s for, Jude or Hudson? I can feel the tension emanating around the table. Hudson’s hostility practically blankets my skin, but he doesn’t really have the right. We clearly aren’t here on a date.
“What’s up, Hudson!” A voice booms behind us, and I inwardly sigh, relieved to have a distraction from my swirling thoughts. But the reprieve is short lived when I realize how many people are trailing after that voice. In a flash of movement and screeching chairs, our tiny table is overtaken and suddenly we’re in the middle of a rowdy group of Hudson’s friends. Bodies envelope us from all sides, patting Hudson on the back and offering greetings. I nod my head and offer introductions, but I can’t remember a single name after it’s all said and done, except for one: Olivia. But that’s only because she went to the same high school as Hudson and me. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she stayed in touch with Hudson; they ran in the same crowd.
Olivia was one of my good friends growing up, but we went our separate ways after junior high. She turned into a heavy partier and I focused on dance and studying to get into Columbia. She’s still as gorgeous as ever with her rich brown hair and classical features.
“No way! I can’t believe you’re actually at a club! I thought you fell off the face of the planet after high school. After everything went down…” she drawls as we awkwardly greet each other. Her words are masked with a cheesy, high-pitched voice that makes my ears ring.
I plaster on a fake smile and quickly fill in the lull at the end of her sentence before she can say another word. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How have you been, Olivia?” I ask, knowing that the surest way to avoid things I’d rather not discuss is to turn the conversation toward her. At least girls like her are predictable in that sense.
“I’m good. Just working in P.R., but I’m sure you knew that.” She gives my body a once over, but we aren’t in high school anymore and she can’t intimidate me the way she used to. Her eyebrows rise in approval as she appraises the nude Louboutins. Thank you, thank you, Naomi.
“Oh, I didn’t know, but that’s so great,” I ooze before glancing down at my light blue cocktail. Would I have turned out like her in another life?
“Yeah. I’m with one of the best firms in New York,” she says with a bored tone before scanning the group because, clearly, I’m not worthy of her time. When her head stops swiveling and her almond brown eyes narrow, I already know who she’s locked onto. Jude. He’s nodding and his head is dipped low, listening intently to one of Hudson’s friends. The gesture shadows half of his face in the club lighting, making him appear even sexier and more mysterious. Olivia practically locks onto him with her phasers.
“Excuse me a minute,” she clips out, waving her hand in front of my face and moving away before I can even reply.
Well then.
I watch her move toward him in her slinky black dress and I think for one long second about tipping my drink onto her so she has to go clean it off in the bathroom. But this isn’t Mean Girls and I’m not a capricious teenager… sadly.
“Hey, Charley! Come meet my friends.” Hudson beckons me over with a manicured hand. His gaudy, diamond-encrusted watch shines in the strobe lights like a disco ball, momentarily blinding me. Who is he trying to emulate? Jay-Z?
For the next five minutes, I stand stoically as Hudson and his friends toss back liquor and discuss the hottest “ass they’ve pounded lately”. I try my damnedest to keep my gaze from falling on Jude. Olivia cornered him right after she left our conversation and I’m pretty sure if she stepped any closer she’d be inhaling his sexy, flawless, f*cking stubble. Damnit.
Look away.
Naomi and Bennett are off canoodling; otherwise I would have used her as a scapegoat the second Hudson’s friends started comparing dick sizes. Oh, I’m sorry, maybe it was yacht sizes. I don’t want to force myself onto her and Bennett as the third wheel. She’s been so supportive lately; she deserves some alone time with her new guy.
“So where have you been keeping this one, Hudson?” One of his friends asks with a slurred smile. I decide on the spot that his plucked eyebrows and fake tan have to be part of an early Halloween costume.
“Yeah. She’s too hot for you.” Another friend chimes in with a signature grunt. Hudson folds his arms over one another and the edges of his mouth curl up at his friends’ approval of me.
Have they completely forgotten I’m standing right here? Have we suddenly traveled back to the 1950s?
“Wasn’t she on Maxim’s hot list this year? Damn.”
“Shut up,” Hudson huffs shallowly, clearly not actually wanting them to stop. Oh stop. No I didn’t mean stop. Keep going.
“She wouldn’t go for either of you,” he declares proudly, with his chin raised as though he has the winning hand.
How do any of these guys pick up women? Will girls really look past their complete ineptitude because they have greasy suits and flashy watches? No thanks. My vibrator has more charm than the three of them put together.
I roll my eyes and look around for an escape.
I could go to the bathroom and just not come back to VIP after. If I have to listen to these guys, or watch Jude and Olivia for another second, I’ll throw up on the spot. But I must be glutton for punishment because I can’t help but look over at him, just one last time. Except he’s not focused on Olivia. She’s rambling on, her hands gesturing wildly in the air, and all the while, Jude’s eyes are fixed on me. The moment I find him staring, his smirk widens and one seductive dimple appears. He tilts his head and looks over at the VIP stairs.
I scowl in confusion. Does he want to leave?
My eyebrows knit together. “What?” I mouth, with a ghost of a smile across my lips. We clearly need Morse code.
He tips his head again, deeper this time, and I can’t help but laugh. How is Olivia not picking up on this? Oh, right. She’s completely self absorbed in her own ramblings. I think he wants to go talk in private, and the thought sends fresh butterflies through my belly.
“I’ll see you later, Hudson. I’m going to go find the bathroom,” I offer politely, even though a part of me just wants to walk off without another word.
“There’s a VIP restroom over there,” he says, pointing his finger behind the bar.
“Oh, it’s no problem. I think I see a friend on the dance floor that I want to say hi to.”
He nods, believing my lie and already losing himself in the sight of another girl. “If it’s a hot chick, bring her up.”
I shake my head and mumble under my breath, “I wouldn’t want to ruin the nice circle jerk you guys have going on”. Was Hudson like that when we dated in high school? For some reason I can’t remember.
I don’t know if Jude will follow me, but I want to leave VIP regardless. I didn’t get to explore the club earlier, and I want to find the ladies’ room and reapply my lipstick.
As I weave through the club, I try to put the last few minutes behind me. This night can still be salvageable if I completely avoid VIP at all costs. Hell, even if I sit in a corner and fantasize about Jude’s lips on my hand it’d be a great way to spend the rest of the night.
The restroom is packed by the time I reach it, so I stand behind a long line of girls trying to fix their hair and makeup using fogged mirrors and confined space. After a hellish wait, I finally push through the ladies’ room exit and am greeted by one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen: Jude leaning against the wall in the dim hallway with his arms and ankles crossed. He looks so damn relaxed and confident I want to attack him on the spot— push myself against him and feel the hard planes of his body against my lace dress. He’s ditched his jacket and his coiled arm muscles press against the sleeves of his rolled up shirt.
“I have to hand it to you, Charley. You put up with much more from that guy than I would have expected,” he praises. I’m surprised there’s no hint of jealously or anger, but I suppose he realizes Hudson isn’t competition.
I shrug, “I didn’t want to brush him off. He’s an old friend and he did get us into VIP after all.”
His jaw tightens faintly. “He’s an a*shole. He took you for granted. If you were talking to me back there, Charley, I wouldn’t have been able concentrate on anything else.”
I flinch in embarrassment, “Was he that obvious?”
Jude pushes off the wall and takes a step closer to me. A dangerous, suggestive step. “Only because I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Olivia was pretty good at grabbing your attention.” I test the water with a sly grin.
He gives me a wicked smile and takes another step toward me. His scent wraps around me and his dominant demeanor sends a shiver down my back, “Was that her name?”
“Jude…” I chide.
“I don’t want her…” He lets the last word drag, as if willing me to fill in the second half of his thought. He wants me.
I blush and glance down at my pumps.
How did we get here?
He lifts my chin, forcing me to look up into his blue eyes, “That dress should be illegal. I almost had a heart attack when you took your coat off earlier.”
My mouth goes dry as his words sink in. Every modicum of coyness apparently evaporated the moment we stepped into the club. The thumping of my heart in my ears overshadows the music pulsing around us. I clinch my fists tightly, feeling a delicious heat spread through my limbs.
“How much have you had to drink?” I need to know if it’s sober Jude or drunk Jude that wants me. Not because I’ll let that stop me. Hell no, I just desperately hope he isn’t drunk. I don’t want him to forget this moment in the morning.
“That one mixed drink. You?” he demands, licking his lips.
“I only took a sip,” I peep, feeling heat flush my cheeks. Where do we go from here?
“Then it looks like there’s no reason you shouldn’t dance with me.”
He doesn’t wait for my answer; he reaches for my hand and tugs me toward the dark dance floor. I have to walk fast to keep up with his long gait, but when we arrive, we bypass the perimeter and delve deeper into bustling, sweaty bodies.
Of course Jude would lead me into the very center of the packed dance floor. He set my life on fire the moment I saw him at that photo shoot. He pushes my limits, and every time I’m around him, I feel like I’m on the knife-edge of desire.
We push through one final ring of dancers and I glance up toward the house lights. There are dozens of them, whirling in circles with the beat of the music. I lose myself in their neon dance as Jude twists himself behind me. His hand drags along my stomach, leaving a trail of lust in its wake as he pulls my body close to him. His arms are so strong and controlling, pinning my body to him. I feel the hard planes of his chest against my back. As the song’s beat hits the crescendo, we grind our bodies together, trying to unite every single cell.
“I can feel every inch of you beneath that dress,” he murmurs as his warm breath cascades down my neck and lands on the bare skin between my breasts. I follow its path and watch my breasts heave and strain against the tight fabric.
“I wore it for you,” I murmur, pushing my hair behind my shoulder and offering him my neck in a moment of boldness. I’m rewarded when he bends down and trails his lips along my delicate skin. This isn’t us; this is what would happen if everything was easy and right in the world. This can’t be real. His hand tightens around my waist as he grinds his hips against me, hard. I don’t know when it happened, when we began to acknowledge the inferno building between us, but a moan escapes me as I meet his body push for push in a dangerous, seductive dance.
“You moaned just like that at the photo shoot. I was running my hands down your body and I just barely touched your breasts. You moaned so softly I doubt anyone else heard. It was so hard not to look at you, Charley. I need you…” He trails feather light kisses up to my ear.
His words send my body into overdrive. Raw passion is laced between each of his syllables, making my panties drip with wetness. I need him. Here. On the dance floor. Now I know he needs me too.
Before logic sets in, I reach my hands up and link my fingers behind his neck, pulling him down to me. My breasts push together. The lace from my tight dress grazes my tight nipples, eliciting another soft moan.
“God, you’re so sexy,” he whispers into my ear as his free hand trails down, past my dress, and grips my bare thigh. I love that he takes what he wants. His warm touch shocks my core and I jerk back against him. His touch is hot, demanding, and begging me to open up for him. I don’t care that we’re in public; no one’s paying attention to us. The lighting on the dance floor makes it impossible to even see past a few inches beyond yourself. We’re alone in a crowd.
But once his hand grips me, he leaves it there and I know he wants encouragement. He needs me to say it’s okay.
I lean my head back against his chest and push my ass against the thick erection straining through his jeans.
“Touch me, Jude,” I whisper, hoping he’ll push his hand up my thigh. I want him to feel how wet I am, how much he turns me on.
But instead, his hand drags up over my dress, touching the thin valley between my breasts. A sliver of naked skin is exposed by my deep v-neck. His finger skims the scalloped edge of my dress before he slides past the lacey material, dangerously close to my nipple.
I’m playing with fire and I want to be burned.
A ragged moan breaks through him. “No bra, Charley?”
I bite my lip and look up into his eyes with feigned innocence. “It wouldn’t have worked with the dress.”
His finger trails over my nipple and I bite down harder, needing a release.
“When you were getting dressed earlier did you think about me touching you like this?” I close my eyes as his hand slides under the lace material and cups my bare breast. Holy f*ck. My back arches instinctively, filling his hand with my aching chest. He growls into my ear as he kneads my overly sensitive flesh slowly and seductively. Desire ricochets through me as the world begins to fade. There’s only touch, Jude’s touch, arousing my every cell.
Suddenly, his fingers find my nipple and he tweaks, hard. My eyes flick open and I cry out with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Answer me, Charley,” he demands huskily.
His sensuality is intoxicating, leaving me a heap of tingling nerves, but I manage to muster a small yes.