chapter 14
[Jude]
As I make it to our room first, I steal into the bathroom and jerk off in the shower in record time.
Although I want to blame the heat of the hot tub for the dizzying sensation that occurred while seated in it, that fucking kiss jacked up my heart rate, forcing me to slip out of the pool behind Angelica.
I didn’t need a second heart attack.
And fucking Walt was eyeing her like he does every other new, young woman around Ashford’s. He’s a damn lawsuit waiting to happen.
He can’t have my Angelica. If I had to fuck her in front of him to claim her, I would have, only that would probably excite Walt further. My damn kiss backfired, turning Walt on. Fucker.
My initial intention was to give Angelica a chaste kiss. Keep it innocent, but make a statement.
However, the second my mouth whispered over hers, it wasn’t enough. The hint of sugar and spice was elevated by the heat of the pool. Her body wedged between mine. Her eyes saying yes and then echoed by her mouth.
She is everything that would earn me a lifetime of coal in my stocking. And I’d excavate an entire mine myself to kiss her again.
With my heavy dick in my hand, I came in two strokes and hung my head, trying to erase thoughts of the way Walt’s eyes were devouring Angelica.
The Clara effect hit again. Mine.
When I exit the bathroom wearing only a towel around my waist, Angelica doesn’t meet my eyes. She also doesn’t look at my body. Instead, she stares at her phone like the screen is more interesting than me, only I notice her thumb isn’t scrolling.
Because we don’t have much time, and technically I’m the host of the party, I swipe right on thoughts of crawling up the bed and begging her for more.
That fucking kiss.
She wants me. And I want her.
But that’s not what this is about. I cannot have one night with her and walk away.
I clear my throat. “Bathroom’s free.”
She nods, tossing down her phone and slipping off the edge of the bed.
“If you don’t need me for anything, I’m going to head out early. Make sure everything is all set.” It’s a lie. I don’t need to check on any nonsense.
Angelica gives me only a quick glance before averting her eyes again. “I can take care of myself.”
With that sassy comment, I cannot help myself. I stretch across the bed and pick up her phone, then hold it out toward her.
“You might need this again.”
Aggressively snatching her phone from my hand, she shakes her head, then taps her temple. “I have an excellent imagination. And a photographic memory.”
She spins for the bathroom, implying she’ll be imagining me and what she remembers about how she affected me earlier. I was as hard as the frozen skating pond.
I scrub both hands over my face and fall back on the bed, wincing as my back pinches but chuckling into my palms.
Score Angelica.
She’s besting me at my own game.
+ + +
Angelica is late, and I’m prepared to chastise her. Remind her how important this night is to me. How important it is to fool these fools into thinking I’ve changed my ways. Dedicated. Committed. The doting boyfriend.
But when Angelica finally enters the private dining room, irritation exits my head.
Because my girl is fucking gorgeous.
While her dress is stunning on her, I want to see it pooled around her ankles and the rest of her on display because that dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
The curve of her hips. The solid shape of her thighs.
The collar that drapes wide over her shoulders, and points like an arrow at the divot between her pert little breasts.
Swells that stood at attention earlier with sharp nipples begging me to bite them.
With heavy feet, I approach my late date. My legs take their time to cross the room while my heart races a mile ahead of me. Hell, I’d be running toward her if I didn’t think I’d cause a scene. I’d have her back against a wall, and my tongue down her throat in record time.
Instead, I slowly prowl toward her, cataloging every inch of that dress. Velvet and dark green. Her hair is down and wild. She looks like a Celtic princess, and I want to bend a knee before her.
Then I want to lift the skirt of that dress and bury my head between her thighs.
With my fist near my mouth, I stroke over my lower lip with my thumb, like I can still taste our kiss. Her eagerness. Her reciprocation. Her desire.
Once I stand in front of her, my mouth falls open, but I can’t conjure a compliment.
Breathtaking isn’t a strong enough word.
“Angel,” I squeak instead, the sound like a pre-pubescent teen.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” She smiles sheepishly. “I got lost.”
My brow arches, uncertain how she could have gotten tangled up in this rather straightforward hotel layout, but guilt hits me harder.
For the second time, I’ve left her to find her own way to the party.
My party. I swear I have better manners than I’ve exhibited, and I mentally promise to do better.
For now, I’m grateful she’s here. She’s my date. My fake girlfriend.
With her presence, a strange sense of relief washes over me. Like the warmth of that hot tub earlier, and the weight of her mouth against mine.
I can’t describe it. How strange and right, or strangely right, kissing her felt. Like I’ve been longing all these years for some Christmas present, and I’ve finally received the gift. It was even better than I expected.
Late. Lost. But finally, here.
Placing my hand on her shoulder, I swipe over the notch of bare skin and then along the velvety material covering her arm.
“You look like . . . a queen,” I state, still sounding like a bumbling teenager—tongue-tied, star-struck, horny as fuck.
“Thank you.” Her face pinkens, accentuating the freckles I’ve come to adore.
One, two, three, and that sacred fourth one, that I want to lick and nip before taking her lips with mine again.
Instead, I lean forward and press a kiss there, right at the corner of her mouth where that freckle almost meets her lip. The kiss is a stamp. She belongs to me.
Angelica’s breath hitches as I pull away, almost like she expected more from me, but I can contain myself. For a little while.
Slipping her arm into the crook of my elbow, like she did earlier, I lead her around the room, re-introducing her to board members from last night’s drinks and other important executive staff who were not present.
“Angelica, I’d like you to meet Maxine Kelsey, my personal assistant.” I offer Maxine a tight smile. “Maxine, this is—”
“The EMT who saved you,” Maxine cuts me off before I finish my explanation.
“Yes, ma’am,” Angelica offers Maxine a warm grin before leaning toward her and whispering, “Although I think his heart might still be a little broken.”
Maxine puffs out her lower lip like she agrees, but she’s shocked by Angelica’s assessment.
“Jude? A broken heart? Nothing penetrates that frozen tundra.” Maxine offers a teasing laugh.
If anyone knows I have an erratic heartbeat, it’s her.
As my faithful assistant, she’s seen the ups and downs of my wrath.
“He’s all work, and then equal amounts of pay.”
“Pay?” Angelica tips a brow, looking from Maxine to me and back.
“Did I say pay? Slip of the tongue. The only one making a decent wage at Ashford’s is this one.” She hitches a crooked thumb in my direction like I’m not standing here, listening to my top employee complain about her paycheck.
“I meant play,” Maxine corrects. “I’d say he plays as hard as he works, but he hardly works. Sits behind that mammoth desk all day and shuffles papers.”
Maxine winks at Angelica, and I assume she’s joking.
“I bet he doesn’t just push papers,” Angelica states. “Sometimes, he probably stacks them. Neatly.” She laughs at her own joke. The sound is a riot among the quieter tones of the room.
Maxine smiles deeply at my date before turning to me. “I wouldn’t let this one get away,” my assistant says, hitching her thumb in Angelica’s direction now, like she isn’t standing there.
Wrapping my arm around Angelica, I tug her into my side and kiss her temple before saying, “I don’t intend to.”
Maxine’s dark eyes open wide and her mouth gapes as someone clutches at my shoulder. The hard squeeze is familiar and annoying.
I turn to face Walt, keeping Angelica tucked into my side. “Walter.”
He holds out a hand to shake mine and I reciprocate, but when he leans in for Angelica it takes all my willpower not to push him away from her.
Instead, she takes the lead, extending her hand before his mouth graces her cheek.
“Walter,” she repeats the way I said his name. “Merry Christmas.” Despite the tight salutation, her rejection is clear. Back off.
I want to kiss her right in front of him again for holding him off.
However, I’m not certain I’m much better than Walt. Angelica and I didn’t discuss boundaries or limits. Kissing her earlier wasn’t in our unspoken contract. However, I do need her to come across as my girlfriend, which means touching me.
As if reading my mind, she wraps herself around my side and pats my chest. “I could really use a drink, baby.” Her tone is edgy. “You worked up quite a thirst in me earlier.”
Sweet Father Time. What the fuck?
My head swivels in her direction. Our faces are so close I need to pull back to see her better. Her eyes twinkle, playful and mischievous.
I’d like to make her pay for that little dig, but the comment also builds the necessary illusion with Walt.
Hell, for the rest of the evening, Angelica applies just the right layer of appropriate innuendo, making the board fall in love with her. More importantly, they believe that I’m devoted to her.