I balked at his cluelessness. Was I supposed to stay in a bed with a man who made me feel cared for and wanted, which was something I hadn’t felt in a long time, only to find out it was because of a note he received? What did he say last night? I’m a man, it’s what we do. So, with that in mind, it had nothing to do with the me and all to do with the note.
“I’m going to go shower.” Bringing my coffee with me, I closed and locked the door, knowing full well I’d be using all the hot water.
Feeling a bit more relaxed and refreshed, I thought about everything that transpired last night. Hell, his penetrating gaze alone was enough to send me over the edge. But his mouth on me, his fingers in me, the memory of all he did to me, caused my insides to clench. There was no denying my body came alive under his touch… nor was there any denying I wanted more.
The pale yellow sundress I picked out for today would be perfect for what was planned later. Dancing with Jude would prove to be difficult. The Rumba wasn’t a fast dance, nor was it one where dancer’s bodies didn’t touch. I knew this from a couple sources. One, I was an avid watcher of Dancing with the Stars, and two, I took ballroom dancing as an elective in high school. Naturally, Jude wouldn’t know either one of these facts.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I didn’t see him. Expelling a breath, I wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t as though this was a large home and there’d be various places to escape, but I still wanted some alone time. When I peeked outside, I saw the deck was unoccupied.
Warmth from the island breeze soothed me as I relaxed on the chaise lounge. I couldn’t help but wonder where Jude was. Not because I missed him, but because we weren’t supposed to be apart for more than an hour or we could be disqualified.
My heart raced a bit in fear. I’d kill him if he screwed this up for me. Maybe he didn’t need the money, but I did. Hell, the man didn’t know what a washing machine was. That fact alone piqued my curiosity, but right now, I just needed to know he didn’t bail on me.
I closed my eyes to gather my thoughts when I heard breathing—no, panting. Did a stray dog find its way here? When I opened my eyes, Jude was bent over at the waist, hands on his knees—and, of course, shirtless.
He glanced at me before snagging a towel off the railing. I quickly slid on my sunglasses to mask my indifference toward him.
“Did you have a nice shower, Sparky?” Even the way the man wiped sweat off his body was tantalizing. “You could have let me use the bathroom first to take a piss at least.” My nose crinkled in disgust, but I remained silent. “No worries, though. The palm tree just outside the fence and I are now closely acquainted.”
“That’s nice. I hope you two will be very happy together.” I leaned over and picked up my People magazine. “Although, next time you decide to leave, can you please let me know?”
“Awww, were you worried about me?”
I lowered the magazine with a bored expression and narrowed my eyes. “No, I was worried someone from Ignite Your Spark would come here for one of their surprise visits and I wouldn’t know what to tell them.”
Jude quirked his lips to the side. “I like to go for runs in the morning. I just haven’t been able to do that. But, if it makes you happy, I’ll leave a note from now on. You’ve made it clear you don’t trust me. Did you think I packed up and left?”
God, that thought saddened me more than it should have. “I didn’t know what to think. I don’t know you.”
He nodded once before leaning toward me. Each muscle in his torso constricted. “I don’t run from commitments. I’m here, and that’s all you need to worry about.” When he stood, his strong body shielded the sun from my eyes. “I’m going to go shower now.”
Commitment. He said that word with such conviction, it made me relax just a bit, but not enough to forget he had yet to acknowledge what happened between us last night. The best plan would be for me to act just as unaffected.
Jude
I could still taste her. Neither of us spoke about last night, and I wasn’t sure why. So many times, I thought about bringing it up, but even being in this small house, Brae managed to keep her distance until it was time to go to our dance lesson. Fabulous.
An older woman wearing a red shiny dress stood on a makeshift dance floor sitting on the beach. To be honest, this was ridiculous. This fucking dance was going to be the death of me.
Brae stood about three feet away from me. Every so often, she’d glance at me from the corner of her eye. Aside from that, I was invisible.
“Welcome to the dance of love. I am Belinda, and I will be your instructor today.” Humph, dance of love my ass. “The dance is flirtatious, fun, and very sensual.” She handed Brae a sexy pair of heels. “Put these on, darling, and you’ll be able to move better. Your hips will line up with his.”
“Are they really necessary?” Brae dangled the shoes off her fingers and crinkled her nose.
“Yes.”
With a huff, she fastened the shoes on her feet. Belinda wasn’t kidding; they added about four inches to her height.
Belinda took us each by the hand until we faced each other, but Brae refused to look at me. The seagulls appeared to be circling nearby as if they didn’t want to miss the show.
“Brae.” Her eyes cut to mine in an instant.
“Jude.” Fantastic. Her tone mimicked the way she stood—stiff as a board. This was going to be a blast.
“Kids,” Belinda addressed us. “I have instructions that if you two come together as a couple—a team, if you will—the prize will be a couple’s massage. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“It sounds glorious.” Slight sarcasm laced my statement, “Brae loves massages.” That earned me a glare.
“Fabulous.” Belinda clapped her hands together. “Now then, the Rumba. It’s a sensual dance. Flirtatious and fun. Let me set the scene for you.” Our instructor placed my right hand just under Brae’s shoulder blade, her left hand on my shoulder, then put our free hands together. “Jude, you are trying to win Brae’s affections. You will flirt with her, and she will reject your advances.”
Without thought, I let out a chuckle. Considering that wasn’t far off the mark, this should be a piece of cake. Naturally, my partner snarled at me.
Belinda turned on a slow song with a Latin vibe that sounded like something out of a bad porn movie. “Bend your knees and do a box step.” She demonstrated the moves as if she had a partner. “Brae, these are your steps. Move your right foot back first—slow, quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, back, side together, forward, side together, back, then repeat.”
Brae stared at her feet while moving in the same pattern, her hips swaying just like Belinda’s. Then, it was my turn. The steps were the same as Brae’s, but I started going forward rather than back. Seemed easy enough—it wasn’t.
By the tenth time of stepping on Brae’s feet, Belinda jumped in between us. “Jude, watch me and Brae.” Sounded great to me. I could use a little girl on girl action to get the creative juices flowing.
I probably should have been looking at their feet, but when their hips closely gyrated together, I was transfixed on each movement. Sparky had moves. Clearly, she was holding back on me. “Okay, I think I have it now. It’s vertical sex.”
“Oh my God.” Brae rolled her eyes as she started to turn away.
I snagged her by the arm and pulled her into my chest. My lips close to her ear so Belinda wouldn’t hear me, I said, “I want that massage, so dance with me the way you just did with her and we can get out of here. You do want to make it to the end of this farce, don’t you?” Yes, maybe I pressed my lips farther into her ear with each word. Yes, maybe by the last word I pulled her lobe in between my lips. And yes, maybe I pushed my growing excitement into her hips suggestively… but I wanted that damn massage.
I straightened, pinning my eyes to hers. “Ready, Sparky?”
Rendered speechless, she nodded before turning to Belinda. “Can you please start the music again?”
With a bright smile, she did as Brae asked, then counted off starting at five. Why did they always do that? Anyway, we heard, “Five, six, seven, eight,” and began to dance, honest to goodness dancing.
Our bodies were in sync and perfect rhythm with the porn music. Then Sparky’s hip grazed my dick and all bets were off. He sprung to life and decided to join the party. My palm on her back pulled her close so there wasn’t even space for sand to come between us.
My hand moved up to the back of her neck. With a swift movement, I pulled the clip out of her hair and cast it aside. Gorgeous waves cascaded over her shoulders. The scent of apple assaulted me, practically beckoning me to inhale it, which I did. I speared my fingers into her hair and pulled her close enough that we were breathing each other’s air.
Our Rumba turned into a scene from Dirty Dancing. Brae’s dress hiked up, almost exposing her ass as she practically rode my thigh. My dance partner let her inhibitions go, just as she did when I went down on her last night. She mumbled something about a prize as she bent backwards, causing her hair to brush my feet and her tits to point to the sky.
Holy fuck.
Chapter 13
Brae
Belinda began to applaud just as the music ended. Jude never released the hold he had on me. Once he pulled me up, my head spun, though I wasn’t sure whether it was the sudden movement, the feeling of his erection on my hip bone, or the way his eyes darkened as he stared at me.
“God, Sparky, you’re beautiful.”
This was all bad. I was at a complete loss at what to do. That’s when Jude licked his lips and I remembered why I was annoyed with him. “You can let me go now.” I pushed my body away from his.
Jude furrowed his brows and looked at me with concern. I turned to Belinda. “Did we pass?”
“Oh, honey, you more than passed. I’ve worked with many couples, some of whom were taking lessons in preparation for their wedding reception. In most cases, these people had known each other for a very long time, but you two put them to shame. I never witnessed such chemistry before. Chip and Barbi are going to be pleased as punch.”
Punch. I liked that word. In fact, I’d love to punch the smug look off Jude’s face.
“Thank you, Belinda.” Jude placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand.
She blushed before reaching into a bohemian style bag to retrieve an envelope. “Here is the information for the massage.” She pulled me into a hug. “Congratulations, sweetie, he’s a dream.”
Yup, sure was. Jude Soren was every woman’s dream. Wow, did he have them fooled. My guess would be he didn’t stick around long after he got what he wanted to find out whether he was, in fact, a dream or a nightmare. How was he not thinking about what happened last night? Now, if only I could forget it. The problem was, I didn’t know if I wanted to. The bigger problem was I wanted him to do it again. I was so screwed.
As soon as we walked into the house, Jude took his smug ass into the shower. When the water turned on, I was able to let out a breath. Being on pins and needles all day was exhausting. Of course, the prick who put me in this mood was completely unaffected.
How was it men could do that? It was like they had a switch connected to their brain like a remote control, and with just a flick, they could change the channel. I’d love to get off the all-Jude-all-the-time network.
I flopped down on the bed and bounced slightly along with the small throw pillows. A nap would be lovely. Maybe that was what I needed to rid my brain of all things Jude. God knew I didn’t sleep much last night. As soon as I closed my eyes, I heard him singing. Seriously? The pillow that bounced toward me now was being used to muffle the sound of his voice.
I couldn’t help but notice what song he was belting out beyond the bathroom door. Was he even serious? “I Touch Myself” by the Divinyls? He even changed the lyrics to include my name.
Frustration grew, and for once, I disliked how small this house was. That’s when I remembered the prize we won. Yes, a couple’s massage sounded perfect. I opened the envelope containing a card we needed to fill out with our preferences and leave in the basket on the porch.
I glanced at the bathroom. The door was still closed and Jude was still singing. Taking a pen from my bag, I began to fill out the form. We needed to tell them what types of massages we wanted based on the choices given. So, for Jude, I picked deep tissue, which sounded awfully painful, and for myself, a relaxing reflexology massage. Also, whether we preferred a male or female masseuse.
Tapping the tip of my pen on the table, I contemplated the best answer for this. Hedging my bets, I picked both. If the guy was good looking, I’d take him. If he was older and creepy, Jude could have him. Then again, if the woman was gorgeous, I’d take her since Jude would make a field day out of it. All I could do was hope for a hot guy and an older woman named Helga to show up.
All my sleeping habits changed since I started sleeping next to Jude. He was always eager to let me know I snored and hogged the bed. Occasionally, I’d feel my foot brush against his leg or my hand graze his chest. That was when I squeezed a pillow between us as a barrier.
However, most of the time was spent staring at the ceiling. It had been three days since his act of kindness, or whatever he called it. Seventy-two hours, and still no mention of the way he touched me, kissed me, and made my body feel things it never had before.
We’d wake up, have breakfast, chat about the weather and what we were going to do for the day. It wasn’t easy pretending anger when all the man did was walk around half-naked. Clearly, to him, it was nothing special—just another woman under his Swedish spell.
I stared at the window, waiting for the sky to lighten. Jude grumbled something I couldn’t understand. When I turned to look at him, he had a grimace on his face. Maybe he was having a bad dream. Rather than waking him, I got out of bed, grabbed my robe, made a cup of coffee, and sat on the deck. A gentle, warm breeze blew across the beach. I tucked my knees under my chin and stared out at the waves, waiting for the sun to rise.
It was probably a good thing we were getting our couple’s massages today. That thought put a smile on my face. Not only could I use a good rubdown, I was curious to see if my requests would be carried out. Granted, it all could backfire, but a girl could dream.
“You’re up early.” Jude’s deep voice echoed in the still morning air. He walked up to the chaise next to mine and sat down. Of course, he only had a pair of boxers on.
“You know, wearing shorts isn’t against the law.” I took a sip of my coffee before enjoying the sunrise.
“I am wearing shorts.” When I glanced at him, he smirked.
What was it about this man that made him get under my skin? Right before I was going to give him a witty reply, my inner voice reminded me of why I was dealing with this nonsense. Eye on the prize… eye on the prize.
“I’m going to go shower. Don’t forget our masseuses are coming today.” I stood, and Jude’s eyes raked up and down my body. The way they fixed on my robe, I almost thought he had superhero powers and could see through it. That was enough to spur me to move faster.
Damn that man. Resting my hands on the bathroom vanity, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. “Don’t fall for him, Brae. He’s just a means to an end.” I nodded at my own words and decided I needed to find that magic switch in my brain. Turning off how his presence sent a spark through every cell within me wasn’t going to be easy, but it had to be done.
I pulled the shower curtain closed, hoping the hot water would soothe my nerves. After I washed up, thoughts of his hands on my body plagued me. Dammit, I should have picked number two.
Jude
Brae was talking to two people out on the deck. They didn’t look like a couple. The woman looked like she could be the guy’s grandmother. Maybe they were out on the beach for a walk. We hadn’t really seen a lot of people over the nine days since we’d been here.
“Good afternoon.” I stepped outside and all heads turned toward me.
With an extended hand to the woman first, I introduced myself, “I’m Jude.”
“I’m Svetlana.” Her strong Russian accent mirrored the grip on my hand. Damn, she could shatter bones. My eyes landed on her chin. More specifically, the long hair protruding from a nasty mole.
Suppressing a grimace, I said, “Nice to meet you.” She released my hand. “This is Blase.” Svetlana motioned toward the man standing next to Brae, who had a wide smile on her face.
“Blaine?” I reached out my hand.
“No, Blase. Like a hot fire.” Brae was all too eager to correct me. “Svetlana and Blase…” she put an extra emphasis on his name, “are here for our massages.”
No way. Just as I was about to say exactly what I was thinking, the Russian woman grabbed me by my forearm and said, “You with me.” Her broken English was almost as terrifying as her grip. She pointed at Blase. “He take care of her.”
Brae giggled at something preppy boy said before he handed both of us a white cotton robe. “We’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Please, go change, and then get under the sheet. You can leave your undergarments on—or not.” He winked at Brae, and I saw red.
Back in the house, I set the robe on the chair while Brae went into the bathroom to change. Not giving a flying fuck if she saw me changing, I decided to strip down to nothing before putting on my robe.
“Are you ready?” Brae’s hair was now pulled up into a knot on top of her head. Her sleek neck looked extremely inviting. “I’m so stiff, I could use a good rubdown. I hope Blase likes using oils,” she quipped, a glint in her eye.
Just like always, she knew how to get to me. Not wanting to have a tent form under my robe, I thought of Svetlana’s mole and all was good. I knew what Brae was doing. Well, two could play at that game.
A thin white sheet covered both tables, which were three feet apart from one another. This wasn’t like a spa. Being out in the open, hearing real waves rather than manufactured ones… it was relaxing.
The Mr. Wrong Series Page 11