Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
I stand, so fucking angry, and take one step toward the door.
It opens.
I stop.
And everything inside me calms in an instant. Relief is within reach. I should read into it, but I don’t. Not now.
He steps in and closes the door, and my breathing goes to shit. I can’t wait for him to decide when I get to lose myself. I need this. So I go to him, circling his shoulders and taking his mouth with confidence and conviction.
And frown.
His shoulders feel . . . smaller.
His lips feel . . . different.
“Christ,” someone says against my mouth. A man.
Not Jude.
I’m frozen, my brain trying to catch up with what’s happening. Not fast enough. The door swings open again, and the steam escapes, allowing me to see whose lips are stuck to mine. My horror is instant, and I retreat, staring through the haze at an alarmed-looking man.
“Oh. My. God,” I squeak. He appears as frozen as I feel, blinking rapidly.
“What the fuck?”
I startle at the sound of a furious voice and find Jude through the haze, standing on the threshold of the steam room, his face a picture of rage.
“It’s not . . . I didn’t . . .” I don’t have a chance to plead my case. Jude grabs the man and drags him out of the steam room. “Jude!” I yell, going after him. My horror multiplies when I find he’s got the poor, unexpecting guy pushed up against the nearest wall. “Jude!”
“What the fucking hell do you think you’re playing at?” he yells in his face, as the guy fights Jude’s hands away from his chest.
“Calm the fuck down.” The guy pushes Jude away.
“You’re fired!”
“What?”
What?
I stare at the man, noting, now that steam isn’t hampering my vision, he’s young, maybe mid-twenties, and he’s in really good shape. Fired?
“You fucking heard me.” Jude points a finger in his face. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of my hotel.”
“She—”
“I don’t want to hear it. Get out before I fuck you up, Jenson!”
“Fuck you, Jude. You’re un-fucking-hinged. I’m done.” Jenson stalks off, knocking a bale of towels off a shelf as he passes, cursing the entire way, and I stand like a useless idiot while Jude stalks in circles, constantly raking a hand through his hair.
Then he stops and all his anger is suddenly directed at me. “What the fuck was that?” he yells, throwing a deranged arm out toward the steam room door. “Are you purposely trying to send me over the edge?”
“What?” My shock is leaving, and coming fast up the back is anger. “Do you think I skulk around local steam rooms jumping men?”
He huffs and turns his back on me. “I know what I fucking saw, Amelia.”
“I thought it was you!” I shout, outraged. “And don’t turn your back on me.”
He swings around, his jaw tense, his eyes dark, dark blue. “Well, it wasn’t me!”
“I know!” I snap my mouth shut when Anouska walks into the spa, her heels skidding to a stop when she sees us.
“How dare you let another man taste you, Amelia. How dare you!”
I blink as Anouska slowly backs out, wary and shocked. Good, I’m glad, because his reaction to this is shocking. “How dare I?” I ask. Who the hell does he think he is? “You don’t own me. I’m not yours.”
“Wrong,” he hisses, crowding me. “You are so fucking wrong.”
What? God, my head feels like it could fall off. This is crazy. I sag where I stand. In my fucking bikini.
“It was an honest mistake,” I say calmly, hoping he feeds off me because this is getting us nowhere, and my head is hurting now more than ever before. Are you purposely trying to send me over the edge?
I’m on the edge with him.
“And how many ‘honest mistakes’ can I expect you to make going forward?” he asks.
Going forward? Where the hell are we going? Someone please tell me! “Are you hearing yourself, Jude?”
“Yes, I’m fucking hearing myself.” He slips an arm around my lower back and hauls me into his body. My palms find his shoulders, my bare front compressed to his. “I don’t want anyone else touching what’s mine.” His face softens as he gazes at me. I don’t bother telling him I’m not his again. It would be fucking pointless, because when he has his hands on me, his mouth on me, his eyes on me, God damn me, I am.
“I thought it was you.”
“No, Amelia, this is me.” He sweeps in and swallows me whole with a kiss, making it hard, passionate, and urgent. His tongue lashes through my mouth, and mine has no choice but to follow, accepting the force. I’m a slave to his demand. Once again, lost. Once again, at his mercy. Once again, consumed by him.
Jude gasps when he breaks our kiss, pushing his forehead into mine firmly; then he pulls away, not looking me in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, taking a few deep breaths, looking troubled. Then he turns on his bare feet and walks away, leaving me in a riot of confusion.