by A. m Madden
Her eyes cut to mine. She lifted her glass, but not before shifting in her seat a bit.
“To getting to know one another, for making it through our first few weeks, and to handcuffs.” I wasn’t going to say the last part, but her face was so stoic, it made me edgy.
With a weak smile, she said, “Cheers.”
Normally, I wasn’t a big champagne drinker, but this went down in one smooth sip. “Brae, can I say something?”
With a nod, she set her glass down. “Of course.”
“I’m sorry for what happened earlier. I didn’t mean to push you. It’s just . . . this is all weird for me.”
“What is? Being with a woman for more than a day?”
Pouring myself another glass and topping hers off, I shrugged. “No. Wanting to be with a woman for more than a day. You intrigue me, and sometimes I feel like I really don’t even know you. We share a bed, share a home, and I’ve collectively spent more hours with you than I have with any woman I wasn’t related to.” I reached across the table and placed my hand on hers, which was fiddling with the salad fork.
“Believe me, this isn’t how I planned on spending my time. But I need to be here. It’s important that I see this through to the end, and I know I’ve been acting on edge . . . it’s just that you scare me.”
Not knowing whether I should pull my hand away, I did the opposite and squeezed hers a bit tighter. My thumb made gentle circles on her soft skin. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Just say no and I’ll stop any of my advances. Maybe you should consider a scuba suit when we have water activities. You in a bikini makes me lose my mind.”
That compliment earned a genuine smile. “You don’t scare me like you’re going to hurt me. I’m just all over the place. This is all so irrational.” She took a sip of her champagne, draining the glass. “If I didn’t—”
Before she could continue, Allesandro was back with our first course. “The chef has prepared gorgonzola stuffed figs wrapped in prosciutto and drizzled with honey.” He set the platter down. “Enjoy.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as she bit into one of the figs. “You know, prosciutto is Italian bacon.”
“Yes, I know that, but it’s not fried, so the caloric intake is less,” she shot back, smirking. Wiseass Sparky was coming back to me.
“True.” I took a bite myself. These were delicious. A drop of honey sat in the corner of her mouth and without thinking, I reached over and gathered it with my thumb before placing it in my mouth. “Can you finish what you were going to say? If you didn’t what?”
Wiping her mouth, she said, “If I didn’t need the money, I wouldn’t be here, but you know this.”
“Why do you need the money so badly? I know you said you were unemployed, but you seem intelligent and should be able to get a job.”
Her lips turned down as she expelled a long breath. “The money isn’t for me—not really. And even in our vast city, replacement jobs aren’t easy to come by.”
What the hell was she talking about? Why would she put herself through this? What could be so important? “Who is the money for?” I asked, then my heart sank, thinking maybe one of her parents was ill. “Is it one of your parents?”
Tears shimmered in her eyes. She quickly picked up her glass and took a sip. “It’s for both of them.”
Holy shit. “Are they sick?” Please say no.
“No.” Thank God. Now I was the one exhaling. “The bank is getting ready to foreclose on our family farm. They fell on hard times and had to take a second mortgage. I’ve been helping, but now that I’m out of a job, I can’t make the payments.”
“I’m sure they’d understand if you told them,” I said, my eyes sliding to the side as Allesandro approached to clear our plates.
When it was just us again, she said, “They didn’t know I was helping. Since I took over the books when my dad fell ill, I’d made a deal with the bank. I gave them a percentage of my earnings and they applied it toward the debt.” Brae dropped her head in her hands. “I can’t believe I quit my job. How selfish of me.”
“Selfish? No, you’re anything but selfish.” She looked up and smiled, and my heart clenched at the sight of it. “So, you need the money in order to keep the bank from foreclosing on your parents’ farm, which they know nothing about?”
“No of course they know but they didn’t know my part in it. My parents think they have more time.”
“Can you borrow money from a friend?”
She scoffed with a short sarcastic laugh. “My friends offered, but they don’t have that kind of money. Even if they did, I’d never accept that from them.”
How much do you need and I’ll write you a check, I wanted to say, but knowing she would never accept it, I said, “Then it looks like we’re in this together until the end.” At least being here with her gave me the opportunity to help.
Music started to play off in the distance and I stood, holding out my hand. “Dance?”
With her hand in mine, we took a few short steps to the makeshift dance floor. Brae eyed me up and down. “You clean up nice. I like you in blue.”
Apparently, Kyle did something right when he packed my lightweight navy suit, white shirt, and pale blue tie. “Thank you.”
Taking her in my arms, we began to sway to the music. Having her chest pressed against mine, my right hand on the small of her back and my left one holding hers felt right. No, it felt perfect. I was once again consumed with a foreign feeling. All I wanted was to hold her and make everything better. All her worries, I wanted to take on myself.
Fuck. I was falling for this woman. What the hell was I going to do now?
Chapter 17
Brae
Being held by Jude felt right. We moved as if we had danced together for years. Allesandro arrived with our main course—grilled lobster tails with drawn butter and lemon—and replaced our empty bottle of champagne with a fresh one.
We sat back down and Allesandro took the liberty to refill our glasses before walking away. “Wow, Jude, I can’t believe you drank that entire bottle.”
“Me?” He pointed toward my glass. “You’re the one who appears to love the bubbly.” I ignored his comment and took a sip. He cocked one brow. “I rest my case.”
Jude dove right into his lobster, dipping a piece he’d cut off into the melted goodness while I squeezed the lemon wedge on mine.
“No butter either?” He chuckled. “It’s the best part.”
I could feel my nose crinkle. “Do you know how many calories are in butter? If I ate everything you did, I’d be a ball with limbs. You gain muscle like a freak of nature, whereas I’d grow cellulite.”
“You’re insane. You really don’t realize how beautiful you are, do you?”
His words hit me straight to my core, automatically commencing my Kegel exercises. “Maybe if I ate what you recommended, I wouldn’t look this way, ever think of that?”
Jude chuckled while dipping another piece into the butter filled ramekin. “Like I told you before, there are ways to burn off those calories.”
More clenching. At this rate, my hoo-ha was going to be in the best shape of its life.
“Just try it.” He extended his fork across the table, small droplets of butter landing on the linen tablecloth. “Open wide.”
With a hard swallow, and trying not to look like someone who wanted more than what was on the fork, I licked my lips before taking his offering into my mouth. In the most seductive way, I pulled the succulent bite off with just my lips. A moan escaped me as I began to chew. It was mouthwatering, just like him.
“Mmmm. . . . it is delicious.”
His gorgeous eyes darkened. “Please don’t do that.”
“What did I do?” Feeling embarrassed, I dabbed my lips with my napkin.
“You moaned. You have no clue what that does to me.”
Needing to change the topic before my muscles squeezed the hell out of my vagina, I asked, “So, I know you come from a large family, you’re Swe
dish and clearly a successful business man, but what I don’t know is why you’re here aside from the fact that Kyle signed you up. Why would he do that?”
Jude shook his head. “Because he’s a dick.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, but that didn’t answer my question. “And . . .” I prodded.
“Kyle, Luca, and I have a habit of pranking each other. This is his payback. A while back, I set him up on a blind date and she turned out to be a he. Well, I knew his date was a man, but Kyle didn’t. In my defense, Randi was better looking than some of the women he had gone out with. Personally, I thought I did him a favor.”
Jude broke out in a laugh and I followed suit just picturing it. “That’s awful.”
He shrugged. Then his words sunk in. “So, you’re here because of a prank?” Sadness lined with fear hit me square in the chest. I was here because I needed to be and he was here because . . . of a joke? The smile fell from my face. “This isn’t a joke to me, Jude. Based on your perfectly tailored suit, your Ferragamo shoes, and everything else about you, I can tell you don’t need the money.”
Suddenly losing my appetite, I set the fork down and leaned back in my chair, feeling utterly defeated.
“Sparky, I’m not going to abandon you. Just because my ex-friend thought this would be funny, I know you need to finish this to help your parents. I won’t let you down.”
“I want to believe you, I do. It’s just . . . lately, being let down seems to be the norm for me. I’m not trying to turn this lovely dinner into Brae’s pity party, I’m just stating a fact. Please don’t make me regret picking you.” As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I regretted them.
Jude’s eyes narrowed on me. “I just said I won’t let you down. Even though you’re this complex woman who clearly loves to drive me crazy, I also know you wouldn’t allow me to help you outside of doing this together.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry. Let’s talk about something else.”
Before we could say more, Allesandro was back to clear our dinner dishes. I hadn’t even touched my asparagus or baked potato, but it was hard enough finishing the lobster, and I loved lobster.
Rumba music started playing—the same song we danced to during our lesson. Jude looked at the small wooden floor. “Shall we?”
I smiled and took his hand. Aside from our hips pressing together, we didn’t dance the typical Rumba. We just moved together in an intimate way. Being there in his arms caused an immediate swell of desire—enough to throw my steps off kilter. Tightening his grip, he looked into my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I think the champagne is going to my head,” I fibbed . . . kind of. I was feeling the effects of the alcohol, but it was Jude who had me all discombobulated. I felt like every cell in my body was electrically charged. I wanted this man desperately, yet worried it would change everything between us. “Mind if we sit?”
“Of course not.” He led me back to the table just as Allesandro appeared again. I was stuffed. There was no way I could eat another bite. That was, until he placed a chocolate lava cake drizzled with salted caramel in the center of the table. Two forks leaned up against the plate. I dropped Jude’s hands like they were on fire.
“Let me get this straight,” Jude eyed me as I dug in with my fork, “you won’t eat bacon or butter because they’re fattening, but a chocolate cake is okay?”
I shrugged. “Dark chocolate is good for you.” The gooey sweet confection danced around my taste buds, soliciting another moan from me. Did I always moan when I ate?
“You’re killing me, Sparky.”
Jude hadn’t tasted the cake yet, so just as he did with the lobster, I took a piece with my fork and held it out to him. He cocked a brow before taking my fork in his mouth. A smear of chocolate rested just under his bottom lip, and without conscious thought, I got out of my chair, sat on his lap, and licked—yes, licked the chocolate off of him.
His eyes widened and his hand on my hip tightened when I fused my lips to his. I pulled away, and seeing the smoldering look in his eyes caused my head to spin. “Chocolate is a terrible thing to waste. It’s also an aphrodisiac.”
“How drunk are you, Sparky?” I wasn’t that drunk, just tipsy. But I suppose this was out of character for me. When I released a hiccup, he laughed. “I think it’s time to go inside.”
“Can we make-out?” Before he could decline the offer, I kissed him again. No sooner did I pull away, he stood up, grabbed the champagne, and carried me in his arms into the house.
“Still want to make-out?” He set the champagne bottle on the nightstand.
And then some, I wanted to say. Instead, I nodded. He lowered me until my feet hit the floor and began to remove his clothes. Was it possible that he got hotter as the day wore on? When he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing those sexy stars, I answered my own question with a “yes.”
“I’m going to show you my favorite way to drink champagne.” His voice was merely a growl.
“How’s that?”
“Ever hear of body shots?”
“Of course. I’m not a nun.”
“Lose the dress.”
In just his tiny dark blue boxers, which I appreciated even more since they matched the suit now laying on the floor, he laid down on the mattress.
He repeated in a deep seductive command, “Sparky, take off that dress or I’ll take it off for you. If you like it, I suggest you do it, because I’ll be ripping it off.”
Knowing how much I spent on this tiny piece of fabric, I took it off myself. Jude’s eyes widened when he saw the pink lace bra and matching thong.
“You’ve been half-naked all night?”
I looked down like an idiot, confirming that I was indeed half-naked. “Looks that way.” A jackhammer now took up residence in my chest as his eyes raked over every inch of my body. Part of me thought this was wrong—the tiny sober part. Naturally, I ignored the little angel in my head, reached around my back, and watched my bra hit the floor. Before I could lose my nerve, I removed my thong.
“Jesus, Brae.” Jude’s hand went to his crotch as he adjusted himself. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
My nipples immediately went hard. I could actually feel my skin stretch into tiny peaks. “Why am I the only one naked?”
Without hesitation, he took off his boxers. Even though I’d seen his penis before, I still gawked in the most unflattering way. “Why are you all the way over there?”
“Is there any part of you that isn’t toned and spectacular?”
“Nope.” He smiled. “Now, grab that champagne and get your sweet ass on this bed.”
The glass bottle was cool to the touch. Then as provocatively as I could, I slid onto the mattress. Jude sat up, took the bottle from my hand, and drank. He then held my head and kissed me, forcing the cool champagne into my mouth. I didn’t think I would ever be able to drink champagne from a glass again.
“More?” he rasped.
“Yes,” I said with baited breath.
After another swig of Jude flavored deliciousness, he instructed me to lie down.
“Too bad we don’t have those handcuffs.” Jude’s eyes never left mine. “I’d love to cuff you to this bed.”
All I could do was blink. Doing my best to get the handcuff visual out of my brain, I admitted, “Yeah . . . too bad.”
“We’ll just have to be creative without them.” Jude took a sip from the bottle before releasing the cold bubbly liquid onto my stomach. It pooled in my belly button and slid down my sides onto the sheet. My body shifted as I watched the bedding darken from the liquid.
“If you’re even thinking about the sheet below you, it can be washed.”
I rolled my lips between my teeth. This man knew me better than I thought. “I wasn’t thinking that.”
He shook his head. “Just like you believe you don’t snore. Keep lying to yourself.”
Again with the snoring. Before I could defend myself, I felt his tongue. Warm, wide, smooth strokes lapped
up the champagne from my body. Jude took another sip and released it into my cleavage. My back automatically arched, causing it to flow onto my neck.
Jude leaned over and licked me clean again. “I want some,” I said, my voice a heavy sigh.
He smiled and tipped the bottle toward me. “No. I want to drink it off you.”
We switched places. Jude was now on his back, I was on my knees at his side, and his dick was looking at me. God, how I wanted to lick it. Rather than take a sip like he did, I tipped the bottle and watched a small stream trickle onto the ridges of his stomach and each nook filled. Starting at the highest star tattoo, I licked my way down. My chin hit his hardened tip, a groan burst from his lips.
Leaning back again, I took a sip of the champagne and swallowed it. “You’re not sharing . . .” All at once, I took him in my mouth. “Sparky, shit . . . Brae . . . God . . . damn . . . you have to stop . . .”
After one long drawn out lick, swirl, and suck, I released him. “I’m sorry, I just wanted a taste.”
“Don’t apologize, but . . . I won’t be able to hold back.” Surprising me, he started trailing his lips across my chest before latching onto a pebbled nipple.
“Jude.”
“What? I also just wanted a taste.” He briefly looked into my eyes. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, I was going to say don’t stop.” A stunning smile spread over his face before he resumed the path he took with his lips. To my disappointment, he traveled north instead of south. From my breast, he skimmed his tongue over my skin until he reached my earlobe. My disappointment didn’t last long when I felt his hand roam down over my belly to right between my legs.
At my long, guttural moan, he said, “Sparky, you know what that does to me.” Without stopping his hand, his mouth found mine and he swallowed my next moan.
My legs automatically fell open for him, my hips lifted with each stroke of his finger, and when he slowly slid one inside me, I felt it in every part of my body. His mouth never left mine and he mimicked the movements of his fingers with his tongue.
I tried to reach for him, wanting to hold him in my hand, but as quickly as the thought entered my mind, it flew out. All I could do was lie there and try to remember to breathe through one of the most erotic moments of my life. How strange that all the times I had sex or even fooled around with a man, none compared to how hot it was kissing him as he fingered me.
