Invitation to Passion: Open Invitation, Book 3

by Jennifer Skully

  “I’d never lie about something so immense,” he whispered, though he was sure she no longer heard him.

  He undressed, cleaned up, then climbed in beside her, his cock finding a home in the crease of her ass. In all the time she’d been coming here, Stacy had never slept at the club. She would this time. She would sleep in his arms and awaken to his touch. Then he would come with his cock buried deep inside her, exactly where he wanted to be.

  * * * * *

  Stacy woke feeling marvelous, safe, and relaxed. So damn good. It was more than a mere bodily feeling, it was a mind thing, a sense of satisfaction as emotional as it was physical. Her pleasure rumbled in her throat like a cat’s purr.

  She wiggled her toes and encountered bare flesh covered with a fluff of hair. Then she became aware of arms around her, a warm body pressed close, and her cheek resting against a rising and falling chest. Opening one eye, she gazed across the expanse of naked man. His chest hair tickled her nose, and his warm scent teased her senses. The tang of clean male sweat, the musk of sex, and something uniquely him, something earthy and elemental, like a forest after a hard rain.

  Jud. Her stomach clenched. Her lassitude fled like a rabbit with a coyote on its heels. She’d slept with him. Not just sex, but...sleeping. She didn’t sleep with men. She left, went home to her apartment, showered, and slept in her own bed. She twisted to look at the nightstand. The lights were still on, and the sizzle in her remaining champagne had fizzled. There was no clock, so she couldn’t know the time for sure, but she felt like she’d slept forever.

  He’d given her the most extraordinary orgasms. How he’d managed to make the sex better than it had been with two men was beyond her, but he’d demonstrated he was an imaginative lover who focused on his partner’s pleasure. Knowing he’d come without even being inside her was a huge boon. He’d said she’d sleep like a baby, and she had. She just hadn’t intended to do it with his body wrapped around her. That was more like something monogamists did. And as much as she loved bringing people together, exclusivity was for other people.

  She eased from his grasp, sliding across the big bed to the edge. He grabbed her hand before she could slip away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home. What time is it?”

  He glanced at his watch. “Three a.m.”

  It wasn’t dawn, at least. That felt a little better. What didn’t feel good was that she’d woken in his arms and actually liked it. She needed more of him. She never needed more from a man. The thought unsettled her. It sounded like dependency.

  He smiled, a lazy, sleepy, yet wholly sexy smile. “Get back in bed.” He tugged on her arm.

  “No. I’m leaving.”

  He propped himself up on his elbow, nothing sleepy or lazy in his gaze now. “Why?”

  “Because I feel like it.”

  “I can make you feel something better.”

  “You already made me feel quite a lot of things, and that’s enough for tonight.” Irritation sparked through her words.

  He stroked her hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart? What’s up with that? They’d had great sex, but they weren’t sweethearts. “I don’t want anything serious, Jud. We’ve got a nice little challenge going here, and you definitely won both rounds last night, but don’t spoil it by making it more than it is.”

  He let go of her and rolled to his back, stacking his hands beneath his head. “You have no idea what it is. But believe me, I’ll get a lot of pleasure out of showing you.”

  With yet another subtle, enigmatic remark, he was trying to entice her back to him. She was made of stronger stuff. “Not now, thanks.”

  Keeping her eyes on him as if he were a lion that wanted her for breakfast, she backed down the riser. The sheet lay at his waist, exposing the gorgeous pelt of hair on his chest. It tapered to a neat arrow pointing to his erection outlined by the cotton. As she watched, a bead of come soaked through.

  She salivated, wanting a taste of him. Wanted to climb right back in that bed and have at him. Then she raised her gaze to the smug slant of his eyes and the knowing crease of his mouth. The cocky bastard knew exactly what he was doing to her. And she wasn’t about to let him win this time.

  The very thought relegated the situation to its proper place. A challenge. He’d won with the orgasm challenge, but she’d win this one. She was not getting back in that bed.

  She grabbed her thong, put it on inside out and had to start all over again. Then she stepped into her dress, zipped it, and righted her shoes, which were at the foot of the bed. She found her small clutch purse containing the essentials on the coffee table.

  “Don’t forget, sweetheart. Since I won, you’re mine.”

  “I never welch on a bet.” She arched her eyebrow as cockily as he grinned. “But you’re going to have work much harder next time.”

  He pushed the sheet aside and stroked his very hard cock from base to tip, then began a leisurely pump. “Believe me, hard won’t be a problem.”

  * * * * *

  She hadn’t balked when he said she was his. That was certainly a step in the right direction. Of course, he’d had the notion that he’d be spending the rest of the night and most of Sunday making love to her until she couldn’t remember her own name, but he was an optimist. There was always next time.

  Jud pumped his cock, closed his eyes, and imagined Stacy’s elegant lips sucking him off. Her eyes had darkened, her nipples peaked beneath the material of her dress, and she’d swallowed like a woman dying of thirst. For his come.

  He’d gotten under her skin, and she wouldn’t be able to resist coming back, bet or no bet. It was just a matter of when.

  Release came as he planned all the things he was going to do to her.

  Chapter Five

  By three in the afternoon, Stacy had vacuumed, dusted, scoured the bathroom, and fantasized about Jud a million times. Other than a few brief smiles to herself over an evening’s escapades, she didn’t allow her assignations at The Sex Club to preoccupy her thoughts. Why was this thing with Jud different?

  There was the forbidden fruit thing, but they’d crossed that line, she’d tasted him, vice versa, yadda yadda, so why did she feel this compelling need to go back for more?

  Something indefinable had made the things he did to her more acute. She’d taken two studs, and while the orgasm had been wonderful, Jud, alone, had given her something far better. Both with and without the sex toy. How could that be?

  By six, she’d finished the laundry and changed the bed. Jud was still like the call of the wild. She never went to the club when she had to work the next day. She never went on consecutive nights. Yet she felt a irresistible tug to throw her usual pattern to the wind.

  By eight, she’d eaten a light salad and half a sandwich, soaked in the tub, reread the first five pages of a novel three times and still couldn’t remember what it said. Jud kept worming his way back into her mind. Dammit. Why was she analyzing the whole thing as if it were a problem that needed to be solved?

  Her sex club trysts had taken on a certain routine. Two or three nights a month, the same kind of men, young, studly, and, if she were honest, unimaginative. Maybe she was becoming unimaginative by sticking to the same sexual blueprint. Jud challenged her and gave her the unexpected. She wanted his next surprise. And there was no reason she couldn’t have it tonight.

  By nine she was dressed in the hot red leather dress she’d picked up last week. A black bead choker circled her throat, and matching earrings dangled amid the locks of her hair. The fact that she was going commando—as Melody called the pantiless state—set her body on simmer.

  She was ready for anything Jud dished out. She was ready to let him win the challenge at least one more time.

  * * * * *

  The upstairs bar was quieter than a Friday or Saturday night, a few of the tables empty and no one venturing onto the small dance floor yet. By club standards, it was early, and his guests hadn’t gotten dow
n to their business. Jud had been making his usual rounds, playing the good host, stopping to chat, assessing the moods of the clientele.

  He saw her the moment she entered, and everything inside him stilled. Conversation faded, music tinkled on the edge of his hearing’s reach, and the people standing about him could have been cardboard cutouts. He hadn’t realized that he’d been stressing about when she’d show up again, but with the sight of her in that hot red dress, the tension eased from his neck like water bubbling in a brook. He knew the woman’s habits like his own, and she didn’t take her sport at the club two nights in a row. Stacy had come for him, and the knowledge shot through his veins like fire.

  She sauntered toward him, pressing past a couple engaged in heavy sexual negotiation. She was like a star shining in an otherwise dark sky. The red dress left her exquisite shoulders and legs equally bare, wrapping her in leather from the swell of her abundant breasts to midthigh. The zipper that ran from top to bottom begged a man to simply pull the tab and reveal the luscious prize that lay hidden beneath the leather. He wanted to chew on the choker that caressed her throat and bury his face in the silk of her hair.

  “Jud, you didn’t answer my question,” said the blonde he’d been chatting with. Or maybe it was one of the brunettes.

  He couldn’t remember the woman’s name, nor those of her two companions. They were all in their late twenties. Beyond their hair tint and the differing colors of their dresses, they were indistinguishable. He decided it was the blonde who’d spoken when she dragged a fingernail down his arm.

  “What were you saying?” He stepped away, adding no apology for his inattention.

  “We wanted to know what you’re doing later tonight.”

  His heart beat faster as he glanced over her head to Stacy’s approach. He knew exactly what he’d be doing, tonight and for a long, long time after that. All he had to do was keep winning the challenges between them.

  “Working, ladies, always working.”

  He smelled Stacy’s subtle perfume from three feet away as if she were the only woman in the room. He had it bad, and it felt damn good. She was finally within reach, both physically and metaphorically. Taking her arm, he pulled her into the circle of women, effectively steering the blonde to the side.

  “Hi, Jud.”

  “Hi, sweetheart.”

  He felt Stacy tense at the endearment. Get used to it, baby, there’s a lot more where that came from.

  “How was your day?”

  She tipped her head, her eyes widening. “Fine, thank you.”

  He could see her brain working. At the club, people didn’t exchange the same greetings. They didn’t call each other sweetheart, and they didn’t ask about the day, mostly because nobody gave a damn. He put his arm around her bare shoulders, then curled her hair behind her ear.

  “You’ll be glad to know my conversation with Derek had the desired effect.”

  For a moment, her eyes glazed as if she couldn’t follow what he was saying, then she glanced at the long bar where Derek was drying glasses.

  “Oh. Great.”

  “Your advice was right on.” He wasn’t sure she even remembered her suggestion regarding Derek’s erratic work habits. So much had happened in between.

  But she smiled, a pasted-on, plastic smile. “Great.”

  She was repeating herself. He couldn’t decide if she had no idea what he was talking about or she was suddenly the frightened doe in the headlights not knowing which way to run.

  Recovering, she turned to politeness, her gaze encompassing the small group they stood amid. “Who are your friends?”

  He was nonplussed for a moment. He never forgot names. Or faces. Yet tonight, he could care less who the new guests were.

  He tucked her closer beneath his arm even as she squirmed unobtrusively against him. “This is Serena. Ladies, why don’t you introduce yourselves?”

  “Amethyst.” Brunette number one.

  “Glory.” Brunette number two.

  “Tiffany.” The blonde waggled her plucked eyebrows at him.

  He didn’t respond to the sexual message in her eyes. She was hitting on an already taken man.

  “Are you Jud’s mother?” Tiffany smiled at Stacy like a ballplayer psyching out the other team.

  He almost laughed, the remark was so ridiculous and the intent clearly feline. Stacy was a live wire beneath his arm, her tension riding his rib cage. She pulled away, and he let her go with a spurt of elation at the idea that she was about to enter battle. It had nothing to do with the desire to have women fight over him, which, at this stage of life, was insignificant. He simply wanted Stacy to realize she wanted to fight for him.

  When she answered, it was with her eyes on him, not the twenty-something beauty queen. “Jud doesn’t have a mother. I think he was hatched.”

  Well, hell, so much for fighting for him. He smiled at his own idiocy. Stacy was not an easy conquest, but she did drive him to play childish games.

  “Well, darling, I’ll leave you to”—her gaze slashed Amethyst, Glory, Tiffany, and then him—“your triple fun dip. I have my own to find.”

  Rather than do battle, Stacy was the type to walk away with dignity, but like hell she’d have her fun without him. “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he said with extra emphasis, then held her gaze, challenging her. “We have an agreement.”

  “Not when you’re breaking it.” She lifted her chin.

  “I have no intention of dissolving our pact.” But he liked the angry spark in her gaze. She was jealous.

  Before she could object, he cupped her face in his hands and took her lips. Not a demanding, take-charge kiss, but a soft melding of his mouth to hers. Her lips parted, and he delved more deeply, tasting her, letting her taste him. Her fingers fisted in his lapels, her body leaned into his, and a low moan rose up from her throat. He kissed her until the sweet lushness of her mouth and the scent of her was all that mattered.

  She smelled of hot woman and need. Sex. Arousal. The small group they’d been standing with had grown to a full-fledged, hungry audience expecting a down-and-dirty show.

  When he released her, she stared up at him with dazed eyes. He steadied her in the light hold of his arms. Putting two fingers to her lips, her gaze flitted from his mouth to his eyes, then his hair. His heart thumped erratically in his chest, waiting for her words. He was never quite sure how the woman would react. Which was a big part of the delightful challenge.

  “Oh, I think I’m going to swoon, that was so romantic,” brunette number one, or maybe two, said. He couldn’t be sure and didn’t care. She’d pegged the nature of his kiss exactly.

  Stacy shook her head, and some of focus returned to her eyes. She wriggled in his arms. He loosened his hold to a mere grasp of her arms, but he didn’t let her go completely.

  “That was a taste of what’s to come,” he leaned in to whisper, his mouth against the shell of her ear. “I promised you ecstasy, remember? I’m prepared to do anything to provide it.”

  She was silent for two beats of his heart. “Anything?”

  And he knew he had her. “Oh yeah.”

  Pushing lightly at his shoulders to gain a few scant inches of distance, her gaze once again mapped his face, her eyes a deep, thoughtful green. “All right. But you remember, you don’t come through with the goods, I’m outta here.”

  “Deal, sweetheart.” Then he grabbed her hand before she could change her mind and pulled her from amid their avaricious audience.

  “And stop calling me sweetheart,” she hissed for his ears alone.

  “Yes, dear.”

  * * * * *

  That kiss. Stacy shivered as the full impact of it sizzled through her once more. She still felt drugged by it as Jud led her upstairs. He’d scrambled her brains. He’d melted her bones. And she had the feeling that though he was the one who promised her anything, she’d actually agreed to something completely different. Not to mention that wild spark of jealousy when she’d actually been th
inking he was sizing up the three stooges for triple fun. She had to keep repeating in her head that this was just a sexual challenge, one she had no desire to turn down.

  Jud unlocked the door to a room that wasn’t a bedroom like most of the other private rooms. Instead, a large circular tub surrounded by gleaming marble tile sat at one end. Steam rose from the water and fogged the mirror behind it.

  “We’re going to do a little hot-tubbing?”

  Jud smiled. “Nothing quite so mundane. I’m going to bathe you. And you’re going to bathe me.”

  “But I just spent an evening preparing myself. Why do it all over again?” Though thinking about giving Jud an intimate water massage was extremely appealing.

  “And I’m clean as a whistle, but bathing isn’t just about getting clean.”

  To Jud, everything was a sensual adventure. She spun on her heel to survey the rest of the room. On the opposite end, piled atop plush cream-colored carpeting, lay a thick dark blue futon covered by a mountain of pillows. Along the wall between the tub and the makeshift pleasure bed was a cabinet filled with a smorgasbord of sexual toys running the gamut from vibrators and dildos to cock rings and specialty condoms.

  “Gee, everything a girl could ask for.”

  “And more.”

  She tipped her head, eyeing him speculatively. And appreciatively. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” She raised her hands to encompass the room and all its apparent preparation. “What if I’d decided not to come tonight?”

  He lowered his head, smiling as if he had some private thought. “With me or by yourself, I knew you’d come tonight.” He loosened his tie a notch. “And I’m always prepared for any eventuality.” He took her hand. “Now show me what you’re wearing under all that leather.” Husky command entered his voice, and his dark eyes melted to the color of cognac.

  She’d done sexy stripteases for men, but something in Jud’s look made her want to rip her clothes off her body. Though she didn’t have much to strip off. Maybe she should have worn some frilly lingerie to entice him, but she’d dressed with easy access in mind.