Chapter 9
To keep another stupid thought from forming, I force myself to look down and stare at nothing but my own feet until we get to the house. And all I can do is pray we arrive soon.
Fifteen minutes of walking felt like fifteen hours, but finally, as we move forward, something on the horizon begins to take shape.
Another lifeguard hut, and there it is: easy to recognize among the others because of its pristine white paint, bathed in the soft lights from the garden, surrounded by elegant palm trees and tropical plants with huge green leaves, like the forest from Jumanji, and the colossal pool with an incredible view of the ocean.
Not that I had the time to enjoy any of that so far, but I remember the photos Mila showed me when she was choosing the place.
The house sits about ten feet above beach level, resting on stone pillars and wooden beams like some kind of pier, up top there’s a little white fence and the door to the slightly steep wooden staircase that leads from here to there.
Obviously, I head straight for the stairs, but before I can reach them, I hear Jasper’s voice behind me, sharp and scolding, like he’s seconds away from yelling at me, “What do you think you’re doing?”
For a moment, I think I’m going crazy.
“Isn’t this the house?”
“Of course it’s the house, but we can’t go in this way!” he snaps, and because I’m staring at him without understanding, he adds, “It’s three in the morning and the gate’s locked.”
I squint at him, then at the wooden fence, reassessing the situation without giving his comment much importance.
“The fence is barely three feet tall. We can just jump over it.”
But Jasper is already right behind me, ready to drag me back if I even think about doing that.
“I’m not some drunk fifteen-year-old sneaking back home after a party.” His hand lands on my shoulder, turning me around like the responsible babysitter he’s been all night. “We’re going around and entering through the actual damn gate.”
I slap his hand away, frustration bubbling hot inside me.
“Oh, my God, Assman!” I snap, the words scraping up my throat like I’m being tortured. “You are so annoying!”
“Robbie turned on the motion sensors before we went to bed, you idiot!”
“You’re the idiot!” I fire back immediately, taking another step forward.
“For the love of God, Julie! You’ll set off the alarms if we go in that way.”
This time he grabs me with zero delicacy, and I’m starting to think I don’t have many options. The jerk might actually throw me over his shoulder and carry me caveman-style. But I guess I wouldn’t be myself if I weren’t ready to fight to the death.
“Oh, the high and mighty Jasper Hassmann!” I declaim, gesturing like I’m on stage performing some dramatic monologue. “He won’t jump a tiny little fence because he doesn’t want to get his fancy tailored pants dirty. He won’t sing karaoke, he won’t skinny-dip, he won’t do anything remotely fun.”
“Skinny-dipping in front of a bunch of people and ending up jail? That’s what you call fun?” he growls.
Well, not the jail part, but the rest…
“I bet you can’t even be fun, can you?” I challenge, and Jasper’s only answer is another eye-roll.
So, because I’m apparently winning this fight, I push further, “You just create the chaos, then stand there judging everyone, but never actually participate in it! I bet you don’t even have the guts to take off your clothes and jump in the water right now, do you? ”
Realizing I can irritate Jasper the same way he irritates me is… rare. Actually, it never happens, so I get drunk with power (also tequila), and, before I realize it, I’m throwing my purse and shoes to the ground and unbuttoning my blouse, my bra becoming more and more visible by the second.
“What are you doing?” he asks, bored, like nothing I do could possibly surprise him.
I yank the blouse off and hold it out for a moment, letting it slip through my fingers and fall into the sand while staring at him, unblinking, daring.
“You can’t do it, can you?” I taunt, with a wicked smile. He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can, I add, “I bet you’re already thinking about how ridiculous you’d look doing it!”
Which is absolutely stupid, because if there’s one thing Jasper wouldn’t look ridiculous doing, it’s getting naked.
Not that I’ve ever imagined it at any point.
He narrows his eyes and drags his tongue along his lower lip, biting it lightly as if trying not to smile, still deciding whether or not he wants to play my game.
But he’s a lawyer, after all. He doesn’t lose this easily.
He doesn’t lose ever.
So he drops his shoes just like I did, freeing both hands to bring them to his chest and, with eyes locked on mine, he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
Slowly, almost maddeningly meticulous, as if he wants to stretch out each movement. My eyes track the motion of his fingers, button by button, each new inch of skin, and muscle, exposed sending a shiver down my spine.
He shrugs off the shirt, the fabric sliding over his shoulders, the shadows outlining every muscle, every line of his sculpted chest and strong shoulders, the definition of his biceps and triceps even more pronounced as he gives the shirt a final tug and tosses it aside with a quick, effortless flick, like this is no inconvenience to him at all.
I honestly expected Jasper to find a way to beat me without exposing a single bit of himself, but even though he’s pretending not to care, there’s something in the way the muscles of his abdomen tighten as he breathes that tells me I’ve pushed him at least a little bit out of his comfort zone.
Even if he will never admit it.
His hand moves to his belt, and while unbuckling it one-handed, he asks, voice thick with challenge, “You wanna swim naked in the ocean, Julie?”
His fingers close firmly around the metal, sliding the belt through the loops with the hiss of a whip, fast and precise, until it snaps free with one final pull.
“Then let’s swim naked.”
It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Heat floods my face as my gaze trails down his sculpted chest and defined abs, then the thin line of dark hair starting below his navel and disappearing into his pants…
but Jasper leaves nothing to imagination, because he’s already unbuttoning and unzipping, revealing more skin, more muscle…
followed by the waistband of his underwear. Low. Very low. Dangerously low.
Shit.
This is a terrible idea.
Abort mission.
Abort mission.
Suddenly I have no idea who’s provoking whom. Because now I’m trapped by every move he makes, watching his pants slide down his strong, thick legs, unable to look away or even process what’s happening.
And Jasper keeps his eyes locked on mine, calm and sure, fully aware of exactly what he’s doing.
And exactly what effect it’s having.
“What’s wrong, Jules? Changed your mind?” he asks, tilting his head, a small smile curving his lips like he’s savoring every second of my hesitation and waiting to see how far I’m willing to go. “Thought you wanted to have fun.”
Abort the mission! The voice in my head chants again, but it forgets I’m stubborn.
I promised from the beginning: I’m not losing without a fight. So I immediately unzip my skirt, letting it slip off my hips.
Then, in a completely irrational impulse, I reach behind my back and undo my bra in a single motion, the fabric loosening instantly. All I have to do is drop it out of the way and they are, for everyone to see.
Ha! Let’s see who wins now.
I feel his eyes tracking every movement from the instant I slip the bra off my skin to the second it falls into the sand. Then here I am, officially standing in front of Jasper Hassmann wearing nothing but panties.
Jesus, Mary, Joseph, what the hell am I doing?
And here we are, both of us by the staircase leading up to the house, feet in the sand, clothes scattered everywhere. He’s down to his underwear, I’m down to my panties, and because I still intend to win, I start taking those off, too.
I slide the fabric down slowly over my hips and thighs, revealing everything – absolutely everything – and, as it happens, his eyes narrow more and more, catching a spark of something I can’t even identify in the dark of the night.
It’s only after this, that Jasper let out a low laugh, almost a whisper of approval.
That spark isn’t from any light out here. It’s coming from him. He drags his gaze up from the ground, along my legs, over my completely bare body, until his eyes meet mine again, one eyebrow raised.
“So now you’re going into the water?” he asks, blasé, casual, as if he couldn’t care less that I’m naked in front of him. “In the middle of the ocean, in total darkness, with no idea what might be out there?”
I nod, trying to stay firm, ignoring the numbness spreading through my body and erupting into a swarm of butterflies in my chest.
Jasper licks his lips, still calm, still indifferent, still completely unshaken.
“And that’s really your idea of fun?”
I roll my eyes, exasperated.
Of course. He’s going to torture me until he decides he’s had enough fun.
It’s so like him to ruin every adventure.
“Oh my God, why don’t you just shut up?” I groan. “I bet you always have to be Mr. smart ass and say something annoying, don’t you? I bet you can’t even keep that stupid mouth of yours shut for one second!”
The spark in his eyes turns into flames.
“I bet you have no idea how to shut it, do you?” Jasper shoots back instantly. and my heart leaps.
Not flames. Fire.
Jesus, Mary, Joseph, what are we doing?
I blink.
Torn between punching that smug crooked smile off his face and… Shit. I already chose the other option, didn’t I?
My body moves toward him before I even understand what I’m doing.
I take the last wide step between us, praying I’m not misreading this, but Jasper meets me halfway, and his mouth crashes into mine the same moment his hands grip my hips and pull me against him.