The driver parked in front of the estate and came around to open my door. I stepped out and went for Jenna’s door immediately, grabbing her hand as she placed a heel on the ground.
I guided her toward the double doors with a hand on the small of her back, resisting the urge to slide my hand lower and squeeze her perfectly plump ass.
“You know, if this dress wasn’t so damn expensive, I would take you somewhere private and rip it right off of you,” I murmured in her ear.
She blushed and the doors opened for us, leading us down a corridor with gold running carpet.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep this dress in good shape. It’s the most expensive item of clothing I’ve ever owned, and it’s the only one of its kind.” She smiled up at me warmly.
The halls were decorated with soft white Christmas lights and white and green pine garlands. The carpet that led to the entryway was gold, accenting the decorations. Jenna tensed at my side as we met at the entryway, her warm demeanor suddenly fizzling away, and in her ear, I told her to relax. Visibly, her shoulders lost some of the tension, but not all.
Before we could get far in, I heard my name being called.
I looked for the voice, only to see Janelle, my sister, in a sky-blue designer dress, her blonde hair pinned up, and ruby red lipstick plastered on her lips. She looked from me to the woman at my side, and that tiny smile nearly vanished into thin air.
When she met up to us, Jenna fidgeted, putting on a smile as Janelle ran her eyes up and down her frame, as if she was wondering how and why.
“Hi, brother,” she beamed at me, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around the back of my neck, reeling me in for a hug. She pulled back and focused on Jenna again. “I see you brought the help.” She giggled, but neither Jenna nor I laughed.
Jenna seemed uncomfortable, then, fidgeting at my side.
Fuck. I could already tell it was about to be a long night.
SIXTEEN
JENNA
Janelle was attractive, but not drop-dead gorgeous. She was thin with great breasts and a butt that seemed to be made of constant squats and heavy lifting, and for that, she was practically divine.
She stared at me for several seconds, and by her eyes alone, I could tell she didn’t want me here. Her actions were clear—she didn’t shake my hand or hug me. But of course, her words had to be welcoming. They had guests tonight, which meant she needed to be on her best behavior.
“Where’s Mom?” Jude inquired, ignoring her ignorant statement.
“She and dad are making their rounds. You know how they like to greet everyone themselves before the party actually starts. Mingle, yeah? Maybe you should do the same? I have a few potential investors who are waiting to meet you.”
Janelle put her eyes on me again. “Your dress is very pretty, Jenna. Where did you get it?”
“It’s Dior,” I answered, and her eyes expanded.
“Wow. And how long did it take you to save up to buy it?”
“Janelle,” Jude warned, which also made me bite my tongue. I wanted to respond with a simple, “Jude bought it for me,” but I knew better. For now, at least.
“Well, Jude, you can come with me. I want you to meet the investors before the night begins.”
Jude sighed and when he took a step away, his absence made me weary. “Grab a drink or two. I’ll be back for you,” he murmured over his shoulder at me. Janelle was already walking off like some dainty fairy, on the hunt for the so-called investors.
I nodded and pressed my lips, watching him leave. As I turned and walked to the bar, I took a brief moment to scan the many faces surrounding me. I didn’t see Michaela and was more than glad about it. Maybe she wouldn’t show up at all. Wishful thinking, I know.
When I got to the bar, I ordered a glass of red wine. While the wine was being poured, I swore I felt eyes on me. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted Mrs. Clement with a group of women. She was chatting quietly with them, and then her eyes bounced over to me.
Our eyes met once, and in hers I saw a mixture of disapproval with a sprinkle of what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here?. I jerked my gaze away before I could see what else swam in those light-blue eyes, grabbing my wine and heading for a cocktail table. I took a sip of the semi-sweet wine, placed my clutch down with a sigh, and then opened it, digging through it for my cellphone.
I sent Carrie a quick text message to fill her in and also not to seem like so much of a loser while sipping wine alone at a social event. I knew Carrie was working though. It’d be a while before she got back to me.
“Well, don’t you look nice?” a familiar voice asked beside me. My heartbeat quickened from the mere sound of it. Her voice was like ice, and that ice went skating right down my spine, chilling me to the bone.
I turned, keeping my face casual. I put on a wide, toothy smile as I came face-to-face with Mrs. Clement.
“Mrs. Clement,” I said, doing my best to sound chipper. “It’s so nice to see you. And you look amazing yourself.”
Though the woman was a mega-bitch, she did have style. Her blonde hair was cut in a pixie style that suited the strong structure of her face and her high cheekbones. She had a stern look about her, especially around the eyes, but everything else was very much feminine. She reminded me of Miranda Priestly from my favorite movie, The Devil Wears Prada. Only bitchier.
“Thank you, dear.” She took a step forward, scanning me thoroughly, making me feel uncomfortable. “I’m glad you could make it tonight.” Bullshit. “It’s been months since I’ve seen you. I hope you are still being a good secretary to my son.”
I bobbed my head once. “I am—well, I’m trying my best.”
“Oh, sweetie, with a job like that, you’ll need to be trying more than your best.” Her smile was tight. “Right?”
I kept a smile going, but I so badly wanted to shove my middle finger in her face.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Just wanted to give my greetings. There are a few other people I want to see before they get a little drunk and wild, if you know what I mean.” She tittered and I laughed with her, hoping it sounded genuine.
Mrs. Clement walked off and I let out the breath that was trapped in my lungs, turning for my wine and taking several large gulps. I was going to need more than wine to get through this night.
I looked up and spotted Jude across the room, standing a few feet away from the jazz band, talking to his father. Jude looked a lot like his dad, though he got his eyes and hair color from his mother.
Mr. Clements’ hair had greyed a lot. He was a nice guy—at least he was every time I spoke to him. He didn’t really look down on me the way Mrs. Clement and Janelle did. He wasn’t very welcoming either. He would shake hands and keep to himself, which was more than okay with me. At the end of the day, all he really cared about was business, and I was certain that was exactly what he and Jude were talking about in that very moment.
Jude stood there looking wickedly handsome in his suit, smiling and greeting people. He talked confidently, with his head held high and always kept his attention on the person speaking, as if he were truly interested in what they were saying.
I could watch him like this all night.
As he spoke and warmed up with some of the guests, I saw an arm go around his waist, and my heart dropped to my stomach when Michaela appeared at his side.
SEVENTEEN
JENNA
Jealousy.
That’s what I felt. Pure jealousy.
I couldn’t go up to Jude and wrap my arm around his waist. I couldn’t go up to him and laugh in his face, and hang onto him without being condescended or scolded.
Jude peeled Michaela’s arm away and then he turned his head to look in my direction. It’s like he knew I was watching. His expression was one of remorse, but I shook my head, picking up my drink and walking to one of the Poker tables. It wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting it to happen. I knew it would.
I had to do something to distract myself.
I’d always been good at Poker. I cashed in, got a few chips, and played several hands. I’d won four, lost one.
I could have played all night, but soon the dancing commenced and I had a direct view of the dance floor. Michaela was trying to get on the dance floor, all but begging Jude for a dance. Jude was clearly irritated, and I prayed that he wouldn’t—that he’d stand her up and walk away.
But of course, he didn’t. To keep up appearances, he danced with her—classically, of course—but it was just the fact that he did it. I lost that round of Poker. I lost another hand when Michaela rubbed his face after the song was over.
I couldn’t handle this anymore.
I couldn’t take it. I was becoming more fed up by the second.
I cashed my chips and went to the bar, ordering something a little stronger. My favorite drink—tequila. All I needed was one shot to let loose. Lay low and forget. Have a good time on my own.
When it was ordered, I downed it rapidly and then handed the glass back.
Just as I was about to turn, I stumbled right into someone.
And of course, it was Michaela.
“Oh, I’m so sorry—” She turned and started to apologize, but when she saw it was me, she blinked her big eyes and sighed. “Oh, Jenna. I didn’t realize you would be here tonight.”
“Yeah.” My smile was weak. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Jenna studied my dress. “Dior?” she asked curiously.
“Yes, it is.”
“That dress is impressive. How’s a girl like you affording Dior?”
I stretched my lips to smile a little wider, and over Michaela’s shoulder, I saw Jude standing in front of a few men, but his eyes were on me, burning with apprehension.
“I, uh, bought it on credit,” I lied.
“For the gala?” She seemed surprised, like she hadn’t gotten her red dress on credit either. Bitch.
Red. His favorite color. Goddammit.
Michaela had a fake smile plastered on her face, and it made my skin crawl.
“Well, it was nice talking to you.” I started to walk off, but Michaela caught my arm, stopping me.
“Let me buy you a drink? What was it you were drinking? Tequila?” she inquired.
“No, that’s okay. Really.”
“Tequila isn’t usually the drink one would have at a gala. You know that right?” She still wore that eerie smile—fake as hell but sure enough to fool a person who didn’t know her at all.
But I knew her. I knew her very well.
Michaela ordered the shot of tequila without confirming with me, and when it was given to her, she handed the glass to me. I sighed, taking the shot and wincing from the slight burn.
“You’re a party girl.” It was a statement, not a question.
“No, not really.”
“Let me ask you something.” She placed her empty champagne flute on top of one of the cocktail tables. “You like working at Clement Architecture?”
“Uh…yeah, sure. It’s a good job,” I admitted.
“And you like working with Jude? He isn’t too much trouble, is he?” Her smile was slowly fading, but her eyes feigned interest.
“I think he’s a good boss,” I answered.
“Well, if you love your job so much, I suggest you try keeping your eyes to yourself from now on.”
When she said that, my heart plummeted again. I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “I’m, sorry. I’m a little confused, Michaela.”
“It’s Miss King to you, Jenna.” She stepped closer, and though her voice had become quieter, it was colder, harsher. “I see the way you look at him when I visit and I see the way he looks at you. Like he wants to see what you look like without any clothes on. I’m not an idiot.”
I kept my eyes on her. It was so hard to pull away. I could feel my eyes prickling and getting hot.
“Don’t be a dumb girl and do something that could cause you to lose your job. Jude…well, you see, he sort of needs me. He’s going to marry me one day. I’m already making plans for it. He may flirt with you or show signs that he’s interested, but that’s just in his nature and I can understand that. I mean, he’s a handsome man.” Michaela stepped back to glance over her shoulder at Jude, who was still watching us but pretending to listen to the older man talking to him. “A very handsome man. He just needs a real woman—a good woman—to set him straight. And, unfortunately, that can’t be you, Jenna.” Her hand capped my shoulder, her eyes boring into mine. She seemed almost sympathetic and I felt so fucking helpless. “Keep to yourself and you’ll keep your job. It’s that simple.” Her lips spread to form a smile as she pulled away. “Have fun tonight, yeah?”
Michaela turned and trotted off before I could get a word in edgewise. My heart drummed, my palms clammy around the shot glass. I watched her make her way back to Jude and rub his arm when he had a moment to himself, and I…well, shit. I lost it.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t compete with her.
I slammed the shot glass down on the cocktail table and before I could turn to escape, I saw Jude look at me. I rushed out of the room as calmly as possible and as soon as I made it down an empty hallway, I walked even faster until I found an empty room.
It was a study.
I rushed into it, glad that it was dark. The only light came from the moonlight that was shining through the double hung windows.
I bit my bottom lip, trying so hard to fight the tears, but it was impossible. Tequila made me naughty, but it also made me vulnerable and emotional.
Hot streaks ran down my cheeks before I could stop them. I was pissed. For one, I was ruining my makeup. And two, I realized this was my reality. This was exactly what I knew was going to happen.
I was bound to be heartbroken one way or another.
The door of the library creaked open and light flooded in, along with streams of music. I gasped and wiped my face, spotting the shadow. It was a familiar shadow.
Jude stepped forward and found me in the dark. I wasn’t too far away from the milky moonlight.
“Jenna?” he called, and he immediately shut the door behind him. He marched my way like he meant business, but then his hands went to my face and he cupped it in his hands. “What did she say to you?”
I shook my head, pulling away. “Jude, I can’t—I can’t do this anymore,” I whispered, voice breaking.
“Do what? What happened?” he demanded, becoming infuriated.
“We’re not meant to be together—I’m not…” I sighed. “Michaela knows. She doesn’t think we’ve done anything but she knows how I feel. She knows what I want from you.”
He was quiet for a moment, observing me in my distress. He looked like a ghost beneath the blanket of moonlight. His face was serious but confused all together.
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks she knows. You’re the woman I want, Jenna.”
“No, Jude, I’m not. I—I make you feel free and I don’t judge you the way they do so you feel comfortable around me. But being comfortable isn’t the same as being in love—”
I clamped my mouth shut when I said that. Shit.
Shitshitshit.
I avoided his eyes, but he picked my head back up. I couldn’t look at him, though, so instead I kept my eyes shut. I was so ashamed and embarrassed. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. I wasn’t supposed to care this much—to the point I was crying over him. My own boss
“I care about you a lot, Jenna,” Jude murmured. “I do.”
I opened my eyes. “You say it, but you haven’t shown me.” I jerked away then, shaking my head. “Show me that you care, Jude. Your words are meaningless to me right now. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t walk out of that door right now, go to the hotel, pack my shit, and catch a flight back to California! Give me one good reason why I should stay here with you!”
I was putting him in a bind now, a sticky one and I knew it, but I didn’t care. I’d been selfless many times with
him, but not now. Not when I needed the truth.
I looked into his eyes and they glistened. He was contemplating. Mine burned when I realized that this was it.
He wasn’t going to do a damn thing about this.
I shook my head and turned my back to him, but I couldn’t get away. A hand locked around mine, strong and swift. That same hand twisted me around, and before I could register what was happening, Jude’s chest was pressed on me, his lips only inches away from mine. He stared down at me for what felt like an eternity, but I was sure it was only a fleeting moment.
And when that fleeting moment passed us by, his lips consumed me. His hand cupped the back of my neck and I couldn’t help it. My body melted to his touch. My bones felt like they were made of Jell-O and my heart boomed in my chest.
Jude groaned as he reeled me in closer, and I felt his erection on my thigh just as his tongue slipped through my lips. For a man who didn’t kiss, he seemed like an expert. His lips were soft and careful, yet greedy and demanding.
He spread my lips apart and tasted me—tasted the tequila on my tongue and groaned again.
“Fucking tequila,” he rasped. I clenched from the sound of his voice and then I became greedy too because I realized I had been waiting for this to happen for months. Months.
I curled my fingers in his hair and sucked on his tongue. Jude pressed into me some more, and I felt the backs of my legs hit the edge of the table. He picked me up and placed me down on it, but he didn’t stop kissing me.
That kiss I’d craved was happening. This was finally happening. Beneath the shiny moon, wrapped up in his arms.
I savored every press of his lips, every suckle of bourbon on his tongue. I devoured him just as much as he devoured me.
Jude finally tore his lips away, panting raggedly as he held my hips. “Is that reason enough?” he asked, and I sighed, just as he kissed me again, slowly and sensually this time.
“I want you, Jenna.” He lifted a hand and his thumb ran over my bottom lip. “Only you. I swear.”
Dirty Little Quickies Page 14