Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
His jaw rolls as he lifts his drink and takes a casual sip. He’s having his own battle, clearly working hard to keep himself in place rather than spinning off the handle. He looks stressed past his stony facade, his pissy glare constantly moving to the group I’m with. Did he just come here to be all passive aggressive? Stand there and make me feel awkward and uncomfortable? Anxious of what he might do? The least he could do is fucking apologise to me.
“Fucking talk!” I snap, my blood beginning to boil. He remains silent, unresponsive. I want to bash into his chest with my fists. Scream at him for giving me the time of my life, making me believe in something that isn’t real, and then shitting all over it.
“What does it matter?” he asks, his face straight. “You’re not looking for anything serious anyway.”
I recoil, injured. But he’s right. I said that. And this, my reaction, is revealing. Feeling my control slipping, my anger rising, tears forming, I throw back my drink. “Fuck you, Jude.” I slam down my glass and escape before my emotions get the better of me, shoving my way into the ladies’, yelling my frustration, startling a poor, unexpecting woman who’s applying some blusher. “Sorry,” I murmur, throwing my purse on the sink and bracing my arms against it, my head hanging, my eyes low.
I think I’m in more trouble now than I was an hour ago.
Last night felt pretty fucking serious.
Flashbacks assault my woozy head, images of his face as he blew my mind in bed, our limbs entwined, his smoky eyes as he maintained eye contact throughout the most intimate and explosive experience I’ve ever had with a man.
A man I hate to admit I’m mad for.
Was mad for. Now he’s just a good-looking guy who is guaranteed to play me. A man to be avoided. Dangerous. Just as I initially thought.
I’m so fucking stupid. Just seeing him, I’m trembling. Hot. My body’s reacting in ways I’m not comfortable with, even though I’m mad with him. I need to remember the aftermath, the turning of my stomach when Katherine messaged him. The panic that hit me when I considered what the uncomfortable sinking of my heart could be. The friendly visit she paid me at work.
The information she shared.
It could be easy, no strings, a bit of fun. No commitment, no distraction.
But that changes the moment feelings happen, and after just one night together—fucking hell, even before our night together—I felt those feelings creeping in.
My reaction to Katherine is prime proof. I can’t do this. I can’t risk free-falling into a mess.
I breathe in deep and exhale, looking at my reflection. I’m alone now.
Then . . . not.
Jude pushes his way into the ladies’ and lets the door close, standing with his back against it. Our eyes meet. The universe shifts. My whole world tilts.
Did I think he would come? Yes. Did I want him to?
My throat thickens, my swallow lumpy as I look away from him. Do not fall. I hear him approach, and he’s suddenly behind me, his gaze still steely.
“Do not touch me,” I warn.
He plain ignores me, his hand lifting, his lips straight.
“No, Jude.”
His touch closes in.
“I said no.”
“And yet you’re not moving away,” he replies, his voice grainy. “Why’s that?”
I don’t want to answer. His hand meets my elbow, and delicate eruptions pitter-patter across my skin, aiming right for my heart.
“No!” I cry, turning and physically shoving him away. He fucks a married woman. He said she was no one. He let me walk into a fucking lion’s den.
Jude steadies himself and comes right back at me. No! Desperate, I swipe a hand out and slap him clean across the face. He blinks, inhales, and comes at me again, taking the tops of my arms and holding me, his face tense. He’s in better control than me. It makes a change. As he eases me up against the nearest wall, his eyes drop to my mouth, his intention clear. The heaviness that falls between my thighs forces them to clench. I will my body to behave, beg it, as he slowly drops his lips to mine, kissing me gently. The rush of blood that coasts through me nearly puts me on my arse.
Jude pulls back, his wet lips glistening. “Are you going to argue with that?”
I wrench my arms free, push him away, and deliver another stinger of a slap. He clenches his eyes closed briefly, his nostrils flaring, as I pant before him, half-furious, half–turned on. God damn me.
After a deep inhale of perseverance, he’s coming at me again, our lips crashing together, his kiss more forceful this time, stealing my breath. His body compresses mine to the wall, my boobs start to ache, my head gets messier. I growl to myself and force him back, slapping his face again. Do not fall.