Page 39 of Elf-ish

I close my eyes. No doubt this is a sparring match filled with sexual undertones meant to build the impression Jude and I are together. Like together.

The thought is a good reminder of what we truly are, and where I really stand, or rather sit, with Jude.

Pretend.

As Walt and his wife exit the pool, I watch him unfortunately not assist his wife and she stumbles. I rush forward to assist her, but she finds her footing before my help is necessary. They grab their towels, do a hasty swipe over their wet skin, and cover themselves in robes before exiting the pool area.

When they leave, I spin and shove water at Jude.

“Hey.” He laughs, the sound strange as it echoes off the fake boulders around us. He lifts his hand as if that will shield him from the onslaught of water.

“That was so mean,” I mutter, sending another wave in his direction.

Jude is fast to react, reentering the hot tub and capturing my wrists, tugging my hands behind my back, which brings my front flush against his. The weight of his dick wedges between us, although it has softened a little bit. However, my nipples could cut glass, and Jude glances down at where my small breasts flatten against his firm pecs.

Slowly, he lifts his head. “Just tell me one thing. How long would it have taken to get you off, if I’d really touched you?”

My mouth falls open.

“Longer or shorter than that narrator this morning?”

“Oh my God, I knew you heard me.”

“A little difficult to miss when my name was coming out of your mouth . . . while you were coming.”

I close my eyes, wanting to die a million deaths, and willing to let this hot tub drown me. Only I feel Jude lean closer to me, the scruff on his jaw gently brushing against my cheek.

“The next time you want to come with my name on your sweet lips, it better be my hands between those lush thighs and my fingers against that—”

My mouth crashes against his to shut him up. I can’t listen to him tell me what he’d do, like a seductive narrator, or I’ll be making a mess right here in this pool.

The kiss isn’t pretty. Our lips coming together a second time is harsher than our earlier connection. His tongue is an invasion. His mouth pillaging before he abruptly pulls away.

“Like Walt said, we only have forty-five minutes until cocktails, and I definitely need a shower. A cold one.” He tilts his head. “Unless you want to join me.”

Sweet baby Jesus in a manger. That’s a proposition if I’ve ever heard one, and as much as my body is screaming, yes, yes, yes, my heart is saying ho, ho, hold the phone.

When I don’t answer Jude, he releases my wrists and steps back while blatantly glancing down at my chest. As we’re both standing, from the waist up we are exposed to one another, and he can’t miss the sharpness of my nipples poking my wet swimsuit.

He bites his lower lip again. The white of his teeth visible as he hums, “That’s what I thought.”

Then the arrogant man steps around me and exits the pool. I spin and get another full look at his complete package as he proudly stands on the pool’s edge.

My body weeps, but my head knows I’ve done the right thing.

Sometimes, it sucks to be on the good girl list.

chapter 14

[Jude]

As I make it to our room first, I steal into the bathroom and jerk off in the shower in record time.

Although I want to blame the heat of the hot tub for the dizzying sensation that occurred while seated in it, that fucking kiss jacked up my heart rate, forcing me to slip out of the pool behind Angelica.

I didn’t need a second heart attack.

And fucking Walt was eyeing her like he does every other new, young woman around Ashford’s. He’s a damn lawsuit waiting to happen.