by Toni Aleo
Especially in the Sinclair residence.
Chapter 7
Claire
I hate Mondays. They are dumb, in my opinion. I mean, why is there a day that is bound to be horrible? Every Monday is like this for me. For some reason, I can never remember to set my alarm before I pass out on Sunday, and so I wake up with only time to brush my teeth before running full speed out of my dorm toward my English class. It’s sad and ridiculous, and as I look down at myself, I can’t even muster up enough energy to be embarrassed that I’m wearing Pink! sleeping shorts and a large, purple Nashville Assassins hockey team shirt. Or that my hair is so large that it could give a southern belle from the eighties a run for her money.
I look busted, and usually I wouldn’t care, but when I come out of my English class to find Jude Sinclair leaning against the wall, I curse the heavens. I try to walk by him, hoping he doesn’t see me. But of course, no such luck.
“Lookie here, Claire Anderson, we meet again.”
I hide my smile as I say, “Do I know you?”
He laughs as he falls into step with me. “Of course you do. Remember I’m the hottest guy on campus, the same guy you want to meet for dinner tonight.”
I scoff as I pause to look at him. Of course, he looks devilishly gorgeous in a black tank and red athletic shorts. His arms are covered in tattoos, and I want to get closer to dissect each one, but since I’m playing that I don’t know him, that wouldn’t be a good idea.
“Sorry, I don’t date.”
His grin doesn’t falter. “Why is that?”
“’Cause I did that not even a week ago and the guy had crabs.”
I turn to leave but his hand wraps around my wrist, and instantly my arm catches on fire. As I look back into his hooded green eyes, he says, “First, I can give you a copy of my physical that says I’m completely clean, and second, don’t make me pay for some jerk-off’s mistakes.”
I smile as my eyes lock with his. I want nothing more than to lean into him and brush my lips against his. I bet his lips are soft. They look so plump, so inviting. I want to get lost in his eyes, his arms, his body. God, I haven’t ever felt like this. What is wrong with me? Oh my God, am I actually leaning into him? Oh shit. I am, and he is wanting it. His eyes are darker and he’s leaning toward me. Ack! Stop, Claire!
Stopping myself, I take a step back, putting a good arm’s length distance between us. Setting him with a look, I say, “You’re trouble, Hey Jude.”
He smiles one of those smiles that makes girls go out their mind and says, “And you are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”
“I highly doubt that, especially with the just-out-of-bed look I’m sporting, but thanks.”
Leaning into me, his lips by my ear, he says, “If this is what you look like out of bed, I can only imagine how you’d look in it.”
My mouth parts as my heart speeds up in my chest, banging hard against my ribcage as he pulls away, his eyes playfully on mine as I gasp for breath. “You’ll never find out,” I mutter as I take another step back.
“Maybe not today, but one day I will, and believe me, you’ll like what you see…and feel, of course.”
His voice is thick with lust and everything bad. I eye him cautiously before backing away from him. “Complete trouble.”
His mouth pulls up at the side, and he’s about to say something, but I run smack-dab into someone. Turning, I go to apologize, but it’s Allen.
“Claire, I was looking for you.”
“Ugh, why?” I whine as I let my shoulders fall and my head too. I don’t want to do this right now. My Monday was looking good for a second there, but of course, Allen would ruin that.
“He has something to say to you, don’t you, Allen?”
I look over to find that Jude is standing beside me. “Why are you still here?”
He flashes me a quick grin, but when he looks back at Allen, his look could kill. “’Cause I want to make sure he does what he needs to.”
“Are you his dad?” I ask, my face all scrunched up.
Looking back at me, his grin is back. “Nope, his captain.”
He says it like that explains it all, but it doesn’t. Confused, I look back at Allen as he says, “I’m sorry, Claire. I was wrong for messing around on you behind your back.”
My brow comes up before I glance back to Jude. “Did you threaten to beat him up or something?”
He’s still grinning as he shrugs. “If that’s what you want, I will, but no, I didn’t. Laps are my punishment for hurting you.”
Why does that make me giddy?
“It seems like he doesn’t mean it,” I say and Jude laughs.
“Yeah, I agree. Want me to beat him up?”
I glance over at Allen, who is glaring, and I shrug. “He has crabs, that’s punishment enough. But now I wish I wouldn’t have taken down those signs since I’m pretty sure you’re not sorry you cheated on me, but rather sorry you got caught. Don’t worry, I’m not the least bit upset about it. I might even move on pretty quickly, so don’t worry about me,” I say, then to show him he means nothing to me, I reach for Jude and place my lips against his.
It was supposed to be a quick kiss, but soon my lips are moving with his in a very, very slow and sexy way. His lips are soft and full, and God, he tastes good. Donuts. He must be carbing up. When his hands slide down my back, resting against my hips, I arch into him, deepening the kiss. People holler and the catcalls are ridiculous, but I don’t care. I’m too lost in his lips and the feel of his chest under my hands to care. He’s so hard and thick, oh sweet Lord, his body is a wonderland that I want to discover. When his fingers trail up my neck, that’s when something snaps inside me, reminding me that I shouldn’t be doing this. I pull away but he follows me, his teeth nibbling on my bottom lip before his lips assault me once more. You know, everyone always talks about sparks and fireworks when they kiss a guy – I hadn’t ever felt that before, but I do now. But sparks and fireworks really don’t do the way he kisses justice. It’s more like a bomb, a nuclear one, because when I pull back, I’m actually dizzy.
What the hell did he do to me?
Setting him with a look, I back away, smacking away his grabby hands that are trying to pull me back in.
“Hey, come here. I’m nowhere near done with that sweet mouth of yours,” he says, but I continue to smack his hands away before pointing at him.
“Trouble, pure freaking trouble is what you are!” Then I turn to look at Allen, and I wonder why he stayed to watch that, but whatever. “And you are an asshole. But no need to apologize, ’cause I want nothing to do with you.”
Glaring at both of them, I stomp away, mad that I considered having sex with a cheating bastard, a crab-infested asshole, and then mad that I allowed Hey Jude to kiss the living stuffing out of me and make me want to have sex with him in the middle of the courtyard. There is something dangerous about him, and if I’m not careful, Hey Jude will have me naked and on top of him within seconds. The only thing is I’m not sure I want that. I mean, yeah, I want him, but I’m not sure if I only want him once. I may not know him, but I like him a little too much, and that scares me. I’ve never been in love, never felt those so-called butterflies, but as I’m walking away, those butterflies are going insane in my stomach. Which means one thing:
Jude Sinclair is undeniably trouble.
So when Skylar said that the dance girls were bitches, she wasn’t kidding.
Before we even did the group choreographed part, Rachael, the captain, cut nine girls based on their body type and looks. It was rude and disgusting. I felt horrible for this one girl who started crying, and I was two seconds from walking out, but then I saw Reese was in the bleachers, watching. I couldn’t walk out when she had come to watch, so I decided to stay in. After learning the dance, which I’m sure my nine-year-olds from the dance studio came up with, Skylar and I murdered it and were passed through to the second round. We started with forty girls and now were at twelve. They were only t
aking five, though. I was confident in us, but still nerves settled in my stomach.
“Okay, so we have to wait for the guys to get here. They’ll be here in like two–” Before Rachael could even finish her sentence, the door was thrown open and in came a group of hot hockey guys. All of them were thick and big, and goodness, where the hell have I been? I have gone to the Bullies’ games, but I never noticed how sexy the team was. I looked for Jude, hating how excited I am to see him, but I don’t actually see him. Finally though, he brings up the rear, looking down at his phone and not really paying attention.
“So nice of y’all to be on time,” Rachael says and Jude laughs.
“You’re lucky we graced you with our presences, Rachael,” Jude says, looking up from his phone.
“I can do without it.”
“That’s not what you said last night,” he teases, and my stomach recoils at the thought of him with her as everyone laughs, causing Rachael’s face to turn red.
“Whatever.”
He rolls his eyes and I know he’s lying. He wasn’t with her. He doesn’t even like her. “But really, I apologize, ladies. I told Rachael we’d be late. We had practice.”
Everyone smiles and giggles as he flashes them a lady-killing smile before tucking his phone in his pocket. Rachael then snaps, “Whatever, come on, hurry up.”
He sticks his tongue out at her before looking out at us, and it seems everyone stands a bit taller, even I do the same. When his eyes lock with mine, he grins, and I swear I’m on fire. My belly does a weird flip-floppy thing, and suddenly the day before, the feel of his lips on mine, washes over me, and I want nothing more than to have a repeat show. I know he’s feeling the same thing because his eyes darken and are hooded as he holds my gaze. His mouth turns up at the side as he slowly lowers himself onto the bleachers, his eyes still not leaving mine as he grabs the paddle from someone, probably Rachael.
“Okay, so,” Rachael says, and I cringe as I move my eyes from his. She has a nasally, annoying voice that makes me was to claw out my eardrums. “I’m gonna go through everyone’s apps, and then we will decide the order for the solos. Everyone has two minutes to impress us and the guys. We take the guys’ scores and what we think, and then tomorrow we will post the five new members. You are lucky you made it this far. Bring your A game or get the hell out.”
“Gosh, she’s a breath of fresh air.”
I glance back to see Reese grinning at me. “I thought she was to the point, like you.”
She gives me a deadpan look before smacking my ass playfully. Looking back at Rachael, I feel Jude’s eyes on me, and when I look, I’m right. His eyes are doing a lazy stroll down my body, his mouth curving as he drinks me in. I’m usually very confident in my sports bra and booty shorts since this is my uniform most the time. Not to brag, but I have a great body, toned and lean, but my thighs are a little thick and my ass could stand my not eating those late-night bags of Cheetos. But under his gaze it doesn’t seem like he cares. He wants me. And damn it, I want him.
“Claire Anderson?”
I look back at Rachael and raise my hand. “That’s me.”
I walk to the center of the floor and cross my leg behind my ankle, holding my hands behind me. She looks me over and she says, “How long have you been dancing?”
“My whole life,” I answer.
“With, oh, Reese Allen’s Dance Company? Your whole life?”
I nod. “Yup.”
The whole dance team sizes me up and then looks back down at the paper in front of them, marking with their red pens. I figure that means I’m done, so I head back to where Reese and Skylar stand. When I feel Reese’s hand slide into mine, I glance back as she says, “I hope you don’t get in trouble for lying.”
I shake my head. “I’m not lying.”
“Claire, you’ve only danced with me for three years.”
I smile. “Yeah, but my life didn’t start until I came to you and Phillip.”
I expected that to please her. I don’t think I’ve told them enough how much they changed me, but what I don’t expect is for her eyes to well up before she wraps me up tightly in her arms, kissing my cheek.
“I love you so much, Claire,” she cries into my neck, and I hold her as she cries. I’m frozen because Reese doesn’t cry. She’s a hide your emotions kind of girl, and I am completely stunned.
When she pulls back, I say, “I love you too, but why are you crying?”
“’Cause I’m just so freaking proud of you.”
My heart warms and I’m about to say how much she means to me when Rachael calls, “Claire Anderson, you’re up.”
Reese smiles. “Knock ’em dead, baby girl.”
I shoot her a cocky grin as I back away and say, “Don’t I always?”
Chapter 8
Jude
I can still taste her on my lips.
I swear. The taste hasn’t left me since I kissed her less than twenty-four hours ago, neither has the hard-on. She has me completely wound-up tight, whacking off till my dick is raw and wishing like hell to get in her pants. When I walked in to find her in only a sports bra and shorts that should be illegal… Well, I’m surprised I’m still vertical.
God, she is fucking hot.
Her long red hair is in a mess on top of her head with a cute little black bow at the base. She stands with such amazing confidence while the other girls cover their stomachs with their arms or slouch to the side, but not Claire. No, she stands proud, beautiful, and man, I just want to rush over there and touch her again. I still can’t believe she kissed me senseless then ran off without a second glance. While I don’t mind being used, I wasn’t done.
I need her. On me. Beneath me. Anywhere on me. Now.
I can’t take my eyes off her. I’m supposed to be watching some girl dance, but there is no way. Not with Claire in the room. She stands with the brunette from her Facebook. She’s even prettier in person, but she holds no candle to Claire. Hell, no one does. I watch as they talk, and the love just shines out of the brunette’s body for her. It’s crazy to watch. It reminds me of my mom’s love, and I figure it’s her mom. I need to ask because I have to know. I don’t know what it is about this feisty little redhead, but I want to know her ins and outs. Then I want to sleep with her. Continually. And then some more.
When Rachael calls for the numbers, I look over at Jayden and he shakes his head. “Were you even watching?” he asks in a hushed tone.
“Nope.”
“She was eh, I’m giving her a six.”
I nod and do the same, holding up my paddle. I see the girl’s face fall and then I notice that it’s April. I’ve slept with her. Well shit, guess I’ve burned that easy bridge, which really, I never planned on crossing again anyway. Looking over at my grinning brother, I say, “You couldn’t tell me it was April? I was with her like two weeks ago.”
Jayden laughs. “Dude, I can’t keep up with who you sleep with, and I actually plan to judge these girls on their talent.”
Rolling my eyes, I look back toward Claire. She’s hugging the brunette, but then her name is called, and she slowly backs away, saying something, and I want to know what it is. I’m sorta disgusted with myself. I mean, why do I care? Why am I so hung up on this girl? She won’t even give me the time of day. She’s playing this hard to get shit, and I don’t play those games. If I want attention, all I gotta do is stand up and snap my fingers, and three girls will be on me quick. So I should do that. I should ignore this attraction, this stalkerish tendency, and fuck someone who will give it to me easy.
The only problem is that I don’t want them.
I want her, and when she struts to the middle of the floor, I know that I’ll play whatever game she wants just for another taste of that delectable, red glossed-up mouth. When she purses those lips like she’s about to give me a kiss that will shatter my world, I hold on to the end of the bleachers as “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston blares over the audio system.
&nbs
p; And as soon as the music starts, time stands still for me.
She’s shockingly amazing. I’ve watched girls dance, and then I’ve watched girls murder the dance floor, and Claire is murdering the hell out of the gym floor. Her body moves with such attention to the music – as if it is the music – and it’s breathtaking to watch. The music is fun and she’s grinning and having a good time, but like me, everyone is stunned. Each move is on point, no fumbles, no second-guessing; she knows what she’s doing, and I can’t help but admire her. When she goes into a series of turns that seem to go on forever, I want to stand and applaud her, but before I can, she stops, running her hands up her body and then she winks at me.
Fucking winks.
It is probably the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, but then she drops into the splits, and I swear I just came in my pants. She ends the dance with a leg stretch while doing a turn. It looks painful, but it seems like second nature to her. When the music ends, the girls to the side all clap and cheer, and I notice that Rachael and her clan are all impressed. That pleases me, and before I’m even asked for my paddle, I stand, holding up my ten.
Because Claire Anderson just blew away everyone around her with that dance.
