Invitation to Passion: Open Invitation, Book 3

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Invitation to Passion: Open Invitation, Book 3 Page 3

by Jennifer Skully

Jud didn’t flinch. “That’s not a suitable topic, either.”

  It certainly was in a sex club, but Stacy didn’t contradict him. She simply waited for Melody’s next move. The show had now become amusing. Would Jud capitulate?

  Melody fluttered her eyelashes. “Okay, we won’t discuss it. We’ll test it out. When are you off work for the evening?”

  That was certainly bold. The woman didn’t even seem to care that Stacy was sitting there. In fact, she eyed Stacy with a little gleam, as if to say, “I know you were talking to her, but I’ve got a better offer you can’t refuse.”

  “I’m otherwise engaged for the rest of the evening.” Then Jud turned to Stacy. “Right?”

  Oh, the man was a devil, using her as an excuse. She merely affected a sultry, secretive smile for his benefit.

  Melody gave a dainty huff, picked up her drink, and trotted off to a nearby table filled with men closer to her own age.

  “What, not up for a little midnight nookie?” Stacy teased, just to rid herself of her own puzzling tension about the whole Melody exchange.

  “Midnight nookie is exactly what I want, but not with her.”

  That was definitely another of his mysterious comments, and he’d been making a lot of them tonight. With any other man, she’d assume he was making a move on her, but this was Jud. In two years, he’d never made advances. That would spoil a nice friendship. Yet tonight, she was getting odd vibes from him. First when he’d asked her advice on how to handle Derek, then a brief foray into his past, now this.

  She left the quandary alone in favor of teasing him again. “She’s a fine, young feminine specimen. Why not go for it?”

  Jud leaned on the bar. “One, she’s had a boob job that is two sizes too large for her figure. Two, she’s shallow. Three, I’m sure she doesn’t have a clue how to give a proper blow job.”

  She tsked. “Ooh, that’s mean.” Jud wasn’t generally mean, especially where his guests were concerned. “And I thought blow jobs weren’t a topic of conversation.”

  “They aren’t with Melody around.” At the end of the bar, one of his waitresses signaled. “You asked a question, and I gave an honest answer. She’s far too young to understand the full impact of a properly executed blow job.”

  Jud traced a finger along Stacy’s arm before moving off to fill the latest drink order, leaving her to ponder where this was going. Her skin tingled at the lingering memory of his touch, and she was consumed with curiosity over his definition of a “properly executed blow job.”

  She should go home. This wasn’t a discussion she should have with Jud, not when combined with how she’d felt watching Melody work her charms. Proprietary was putting it mildly. She’d felt downright victorious when he sent the woman away.

  The rear view as he mixed drinks was just too damn good. The tailored tux fit him to perfection. The lights shone in his hair, flickering across the strands of gray mixed in. The flex of his shoulders as he moved riveted her gaze.

  The situation was getting risky. Stacy saw, she wanted, she took, and she moved on. Possessive emotions didn’t get involved. Really, she should leave...

  Except that his gaze trapped her as he returned. He moved with the grace of a sleek panther, and her pulse raced simply watching him. It was strange how suddenly a man could attract your eye after years of knowing him, as if a switch suddenly flipped. It could be something as simple as a joke that made you laugh, or a look you’d never seen before. Or a topic of conversation that skated into territory that you’d never before visited with him. And suddenly, you saw him, really saw him.

  However he’d done it, Jud had certainly flipped her switch. Surprise, surprise.

  “So what’s a properly executed blow job?” The question was out of her mouth before she consciously made the decision to continue the bizarre conversation.

  He focused on her with a predatory gleam and smiled as if to say Gotcha. Then he leaned on the bar, close enough for a faint whiff of his aftershave and something else. The scent of an aroused male animal.

  She’d set the limits on their relationship in her own mind, preferring confidant status to sexual partner standing. Why she’d relegated him to that position she couldn’t seem to recall in the rush of heat flooding her body. In a setting where just about anything was permissible, Jud had suddenly become her forbidden fruit.

  And she wanted a taste of him. Badly.

  Chapter Three

  “A proper blow job occurs when a woman so enjoys what she’s doing that she comes just by the act of pleasuring the man.”

  Jud didn’t touch Stacy. He simply waited for her reaction. And he got it. Her pupils dilated, and her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. For once, she was absolutely speechless.

  “And a woman like Melody is too self-oriented to understand that a man’s pleasure enhances her pleasure.” He had Stacy right where he wanted her. Breathless. Anticipating. “It works both ways. Most young men haven’t discovered that a woman’s orgasm can be as pleasurable as experiencing his own.”

  She recovered to arch one elegant eyebrow as if his speech had no effect on her. “So making a woman come gets you off?”

  “Making a woman come is essential. Without it, a man can attain physical orgasm, but he can’t achieve true pleasure. Another cocktail?” He prepared a new flute even as he asked.

  She glanced at her glass, then up at him, and finally to the mirror behind the bar as if that would reveal something she needed to see. “Yes...no, I mean... Dammit, Jud.”

  He read her mind. She wanted, yet wasn’t sure. She needed, but didn’t know exactly what.

  He pushed her second champagne into her fingers. “Let me show you what I mean.”

  She sipped. In her green eyes, indecision battled yearning. He wondered if she knew just how enlightening her gaze was.

  He added one more line of inducement. “Consider it an invitation to passion the likes of which you’ve never known.” He willed her to take him up on the offer.

  At the end of the bar, a waitress signaled. He let her slip through the latch to get what she needed. A guest tapped his empty glass on the counter, requesting a refill. Jud ignored him until he went away. The bar chatter was like elevator music he tuned out. All that mattered was enticing this gorgeous woman.

  “Jud, I really don’t think—”

  “Don’t think, Serena,” he said, using her club name to beguile her. “I want you. I have for quite some time.”

  She bit her lip, something he’d never seen her do except to lure a younger man upstairs with her. This was completely unconscious. He liked having her off balance.

  “Quite some time? How long?”

  “Months,” he murmured, catching and holding her gaze. “I just didn’t intend to act on it.”

  She thought a moment, then asked, “Why tell me tonight?”

  “Why not?”

  She obviously didn’t have an answer, lifting the champagne flute instead.

  “It will be the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced.”

  “Just one?” she quipped, and he knew she was trying to regain control.

  Jud wasn’t about to let her have it. “One will be all you need, all you can take. You’ll sleep like a baby. Then you’ll return begging for more.”

  Her nose tipped a haughty degree higher. “I don’t beg.”

  And he knew he had her. Stacy Parrish loved a challenge.

  “You will after tonight. You’ll never go back to young meat.” He took her hand, lacing her fingers with his. “Never.”

  She lifted her head, met his gaze, and smiled her amazing, sultry smile. “If anyone does the begging, it’ll be you.”

  And the challenge was on.

  * * * * *

  Good Lord, what had she agreed to?

  Stacy didn’t care. She’d been wishing for a man who would surprise her, and Jud had definitely done that. His desire was palpable, reaching out to touch her, his concentration on her unequivocal. Voices, laughter, soft strai
ns of music, all faded into the background. There was nothing but Jud’s attraction, like an elixir she craved. She might regret it tomorrow—only if she let herself—but for right now, damn the consequences.

  Jud picked up the house phone and dialed. She couldn’t hear the quiet conversation, but she knew he wasn’t wasting a minute. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a gold key, turned her hand over and placed it in her palm.

  “Top floor, last door.”

  “Is that where you live?” She fingered the gold filigree. That particular room had never been offered for her use in the entire time she’d been coming to the club.

  “No. I’m not waiting long enough to take you to my home.”

  She cocked her head. “Afraid I’ll change my mind?”

  “Afraid, no, but convincing you all over again will waste precious time. I’ll be up there in a minute.”

  Presumably after he’d found someone to fill in at the bar. Stacy closed her fingers around the key and rose from the barstool. She turned, then glanced back over her shoulder. “By the way, you didn’t convince me. I decided. And I follow through on my decisions.”

  As if her heart weren’t racing madly, she strolled through the tables on her way out. Melody glared, as if she’d seen the key exchange, then slugged back the dregs of her Long Island Iced Tea. Stacy didn’t even look for her studs. Jud was too much in her blood. She couldn’t understand how he’d managed that so quickly. Maybe her own attraction to him had been sizzling just below the surface all along.

  At almost midnight, the club was hopping, music jamming the corridors from various rooms, people hugging tight to each other in gloomy corners. She liked to wander the hallways and some of the exotic chambers, enjoying the performances as much as she enjoyed actually doing the performing. But not tonight. It was as if she’d never had those earlier orgasms.

  By the time she reached the third and top floor, she was almost running. The key slid into the door easily, and she pushed it open in a flutter to see the interior.

  Jud was stamped all over it. Instead of the usual wall hangings and plush carpet, this room gleamed with hardwood. The walls were paneled except for one floor-to-ceiling mirror. Persian carpets decorated the polished floorboards. A brown leather sofa and chair sat before an ornate fireplace.

  Stacy moved to the riser beside the high, sturdy, four-poster bed, and confronted the reflection in the strategically placed mirror. Examining it, she discovered the glass was made of tiles, placed so expertly the seams were almost invisible. Everything done on that bed could be viewed by the participants, but unlike the rooms she’d been in, this mirror wasn’t a window affording someone else a vista of the bed. What took place in this room was for the pleasure of the occupants only.

  Just the two of them. Somehow that put more importance on the whole episode. What did Jud expect from her?

  “I’ve watched you.”

  She hadn’t even heard him enter, but the door was closed behind him, and he’d crossed to the end of the bed.

  “Watched me?” She could only repeat what he said.

  He shrugged. “You asked why I chose tonight to tell you I want you. Because I was watching you and your young men, and you’ve got me so hard I can’t ignore it anymore.”

  She’d always liked the awareness of being seen by an invisible lover. But knowing it was Jud who’d watched, Jud who got hot and hard? Her panties dampened, her breath caught in her throat, and a thrill skated down her spine.

  But she couldn’t let that sudden kick give him the upper hand. “You should have told me.”

  He angled his head, regarded her a moment. “Why?”

  “It was an invasion of my privacy.”

  “You didn’t ask for privacy. You asked for a room that had a two-way mirror.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “In fact, you’ve come alone to perform for whoever was behind the mirror. You never specified who it should be.” He dropped his voice to a seductive whisper. “Three times, that man’s been me.”

  Three times. Tonight and...when? She was dying to know.

  Then he was behind her, the warmth of his body enveloping her, and he turned her to face the mirror. He grabbed her hand, dragging her fingers down the front of her dress to the hem. Then he tugged it up, the reflection revealing her inch by inch, and guided her to the crotch of her satin underwear. She was hot and very, very wet, her thong soaked. And it wasn’t a residual leftover from her encounter earlier in the evening.

  “Knowing it was me makes you hot and wet,” he murmured against her hair, “and you like it. You like knowing how hard I got watching you.”

  He was so damn right. She always wondered about the men who watched her, who got hot and hard behind the glass. It added an extra dollop of pleasure. Knowing it was Jud gave her an immense power rush that made her squirm against him.

  But the man was getting a little too arrogant. “If you were watching, then you know just how big an act you have to follow. Are you up”—she puckered her mouth around the word—“to it?”

  His reflection smiled at her. “I did notice you had to tell your pupils what to do.” He licked her ear, sending a shiver straight to her clit. “Wouldn’t it be nice if someone figured out what you wanted all on his own?”

  His husky voice and those hot hands were getting to her, but she liked having control, too. Pivoting, she put her palm to his pants. He was thick, hard, and she turned the tables on him. “Have you forgotten what we came up here for? I’m going to give you the most proper blow job you’ve ever gotten,” she told him. She’d have him screaming and begging.

  He cupped the back of her neck and dragged her close, his lips coming down on hers in a crushing kiss. She opened, gave him entry, and sucked his tongue. He tasted of malt, though she hadn’t seen him drink, laced with the subtle flavor of her peach champagne. As if he’d already partaken of her. She rose to her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck.

  God, he tasted good. He met every thrust, and did her one better. Her nipples peaked with nothing but the brush of his chest against hers and his tongue in her mouth. She was breathless by the time she eased back onto her heels.

  “No kissing,” she whispered. It wasn’t a rule she had for the club, it was just something she didn’t do. Somehow, kissing was more intimate than all the others things she’d done. And while she adored sex, she wasn’t keen on total intimacy. That wasn’t what she wanted from her visits to the club.

  His eyes were dark as he searched her face, then dropped his gaze to her lips. “Oh yes, we’re going to kiss.”

  He took her mouth and allowed no battle for control. He turned her knees to jelly, and she clutched his arms to steady herself. When he pulled back, her lips felt utterly devoured.

  He was very good, and her body demanded more. Holding onto him, she angled herself so that she could see them together in the mirror. A flush had risen to her skin, making her glow. His dark hair was out of place where she’d run her fingers through it. Beneath the fitted tux, desire was written in every line of his body.

  Then he bent his head again, capturing her with a barely there kiss, and eclipsing the sight in the mirror.

  “Take off your panties,” he murmured against her lips.

  His words in the bar came back to her. A proper blow job was one in which a woman so enjoyed what she was doing that she came. Suddenly, she wanted that proper blow job more than she’d ever wanted anything. She wanted to bring Jud McCord to his knees. Raising her dress, she slipped her panties down her legs, never taking her eyes off him despite the mirror in the periphery of her vision.

  When she straightened, he grabbed her chin, holding her gently. “Tell me you love knowing it was me who watched you.”

  She closed her eyes, seeing herself impaled by her two virile young lovers. Then she visualized Jud on the other side of the mirror, watching her every move, his whole focus on her. And God yes, the image made her tremble. He wanted her. The knowledge seduced her completely.


  “Yes, I like it.”

  Satisfaction flickered in that dark gaze of his, then he reached for his zipper.

  Melody’s question was answered. No boxers, no briefs. Commando. The head of his cock already glistened with moisture. Stacy dropped to her knees before him.

  “You’re beautiful.” The words slipped from her with awe.

  “And you’re a thing of beauty down on your knees. In that position, a woman holds all the power.”

  So true. She held him in the palm of her hand, slowly wrapping her fingers around him. She took one last glance at the sexy image in the mirror before she bent to slip him into her mouth. His unique, salty flavor burst on her tongue. She drank, savoring the beads of come. His musky male scent rose to cloud her mind. This was Jud. God, it was Jud. His taste and scent seduced her in ways she’d never imagined. He cupped her face in both hands, his fingers deliciously rough on her cheeks, and guided her to take his full length. But he was too big. When she’d taken as much as she could, she let him glide from her lips, sucking on him as she drew back.

  A purr welled up from her throat. He was so delicious, and her pussy creamed for him. She ran one hand down her dress from nipples to thighs. A pulse beat between her legs.

  “Again,” he urged.

  She took him with her lips, over and over until he groaned and moved against her, thrusting his hips, forcing her to take more than she ever thought she could. And she loved it. She loved that it was him.

  “I can’t get enough of watching you.”

  She slid her tongue along the slit of his cock and felt his full-body shiver.

  “Christ, I can’t even think when you’re doing that.”

  She opened her eyes to see him in the mirror. His head was thrown back, his neck corded, those long lashes of his dusting his cheeks. Then he looked down, tipping her chin away from the reflection. His gaze trapped her, a dark pool of need. His intensity had her skimming her hand between her thighs, compelled to touch herself. She gave herself up to the sheer, overwhelming pleasure of his taste, the feel of his hard flesh between her lips, the intoxicating scent of his skin. He plunged deeply, fucking her mouth as he held her head in his hands. All the while, she caressed herself in rhythm to his thrusts.

 

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