Invitation to Passion: Open Invitation, Book 3 (4 page)

 
    
Polite to a fault when it came to his
guests, Jud gave the blonde his attention. “How about a Campari and soda?”

 
    
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s bitter, not
tart.” Then she pointed at Stacy’s glass. “I want what she’s having.”

 
    
Jud shook his head. “You can’t have what
Serena’s having. That’s just for her.”

 
    
He made peach champagne cocktails
exclusively for her? Hmm, how sweet. She hadn’t known that. She felt the ebb of
her earlier coolness toward him.

 
    
“That’s not fair,” Melody whined.

 
    
“Life’s not fair.”

 
    
She pouted. Prettily. But Jud didn’t give
in.

 
    
“Then I want a Long Island iced tea. Make
sure it kicks.”

 
    
“Yes, ma’am. One kick coming up.” And Jud
moved down the length of the bar.

 
    
“He’s
hot
,”
Melody whispered. “I wonder when he gets off?”

 
    
“Jud gets off exactly when he wants to,”
Stacy murmured.

 
    
Melody didn’t so much as crack a smile at
their dual double entendre. Though Melody had been to the club several times
over the last year, maybe she didn’t know that Jud was not an employee but the
club’s owner. Not everyone knew, not that Jud hid the fact, but he also didn’t
make a display of it.

 
    
Melody licked her lips. “I want another
bite out of him.”

 
    
Another?
Stacy felt something inside her lurch. Jud had been with this...okay, she
didn’t want to think anything derogatory about Melody. Surely the girl was the
sweetest thing since apple pie and maybe not a ditz at all. But Jud had bedded
down with
her
? It was unthinkable. It
was repulsive.

 
    
Jud returned with the prepared drink,
sliding it across the counter on a coaster to sop up the condensation.

 
    
Stacy felt as sweaty as the mug. Surely Jud
availed himself of the club’s delights, but she’d never focused on the idea.
Until now. She didn’t like her thoughts at all, experiencing a proprietary
feeling to which she had no right. Dammit, did Melody have a standing
invitation, too?

 
    
“There you go.” He smiled graciously, then
turned back to Stacy. “Can I get you a refill?”

 
    
Her glass was only half-empty. Or was that
half-full? “I’m fine, thanks.” As possessive as it might be, she wanted to cut
Melody out of the conversation. “So, what were we discussing?”

 
    
Then she remembered. They’d been talking
about what Jud thought she needed. She certainly wasn’t going to continue with
darling Melody sitting beside her on the barstool.

 
    
“Oh, tell me, tell me, I love discussion,”
Melody clamored.

 
    
Stacy just wanted to tell her to get lost.
She wasn’t usually uncharitable, and she didn’t allow jealous thoughts to gain
a foothold. She abhorred competing for a man’s attention. It was beneath her.
So she backed off, only to find it was almost voyeuristic watching Melody hit
on Jud, her breasts brilliantly displayed as she leaned on the glass bar top,
eyes roving over every inch of Jud’s chest.

 
    
Jud merely smiled indulgently. “It was private.
Sorry.” The apology was added almost as a courteous afterthought.

 
    
That startled Melody, and the sparkle in
her eyes dimmed. But only for a moment. “Let’s start a new discussion. Are you
boxers, briefs, or commando?”

 
    
God, she was
so
young. Stacy had her own immature moment of triumph realizing
Melody didn’t know the answer. Which meant Jud hadn’t...

 
    
“That’s private, too,” he answered, still
with a tolerant smile on his lips.

 
    
Melody trailed a finger along the back of
his hand where it rested on the bar. “Oh, come on, you can tell me.” She
glanced slyly at Stacy. “I mean, you can tell us.”

 
    
Pulling away from Melody, Jud held up his
hands. “A man has to have some secrets.”

 
    
Melody leaned on the bar, the outline of
her breasts lit from below by the row of lights. “Then let’s play another game.
Which do you prefer, hand jobs or blow jobs?”

 
    
In the midst of a sip of champagne, Stacy
almost spewed the fruity concoction across the counter.

 
    
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.

 
    
“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.”