Page 38 of Elf-ish

“Ah-hmm.” The throat clearing is like a sharp punctuation on the moment, and quickly Jude and I break apart. My face heats for a new reason.

I was just kissing Jude Ashford in front of his top board member.

With my mouth still tingling, the impression of his on mine lingering, my lips are certain to be swollen and red. When I remove my hand from Jude’s face, I’m afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid to see I’ve had no effect on him when I’m suddenly all twisted up inside.

Instead, I spin in the direction of Walt and his wife, but I don’t look at them either. Guilt collides with the rush of arousal. I’m almost as bad as Beau and Belle, making out at the Thanksgiving dinner table.

Only this isn’t real. Jude apologized before he even kissed me. Like he knew it wasn’t right, but he had to do the wrong.

Still, his arm wraps around my waist again, and he tugs me back, bringing me against his chest again. He surprises me further by pressing his lips to my temple and lingering there while whispering, “Thank you.”

My gaze briefly connects with Walt’s wife. When I glance away from her, the weight of Walt’s attention presses on the other side of my head.

All four of us remain silent for a few minutes, and I’m hyper aware of Jude’s fingers tickling up and down my arm underneath the surface of the bubbling water. When he places another kiss on my shoulder, Walt’s wife asks me what we did today, as if determined to distract us from another mini-make out session.

I tell her about ice skating.

She tells me how they went shopping.

And all the while Jude’s fingers dance up the side of my arm and then back down to the crease of my elbow. He drops an occasional kiss on my shoulder to further rile me.

While small talk volleys across the small pool, my nipples are hard, and my center clenches. My flesh is goose-bumped despite the heat of the water, and the effect of our kiss on Jude is apparent as his thickness is trapped against my backside because I remain seated between this spread thighs. He’s long and hard and very erect.

Try as I might to focus on Walt’s wife, I fail at recalling her name. Hell, I struggle as well to remember my own. Because Jude continues his tender assault with soft kisses to the side of my neck or another swipe of those fingers down my arm to my wrist to link our hands together. He even brings our collective grip up to his mouth once to delicately scrape his teeth over my knuckles. I watch the entire display with bated breath.

I’m a roaring inferno of rising hormones, and I’m going to strangle Jude the second this couple leaves us alone.

Or kiss him again.

The jury is still out on this one.

One conviction that’s firm is the pressure of Walt watching us, and I start to wonder what game Jude is playing with this other couple present.

Eventually, Jude twists my head to give me one more soft kiss, and then he hops out of the hot tub, taking a seat on the thick edge directly behind me. My gaze follows his retreat, and my view is of him in sporty European trunks that outline every detail of his length and girth.

He leans forward one more time, cups my jaw again, and brings his mouth close to mine. “Getting a good look?”

I don’t answer. I can’t find words. I try to hold Jude’s gaze. I really, really try, but my eyes dip, catching another sneaky peek at that solid bulge, angled sideways because that is the only way his dick won’t burst out the top of his trunks.

Placing his hands on my shoulders, Jude chuckles and spins me to face the other couple. I still cannot meet their eyes.

Jude massages my shoulders and neck, but the tension coming off me is too great to relieve. His touch is only making matters worse.

“Walt, you probably shouldn’t be in the pool too long with your high blood pressure,” Jude warns, digging his thumb along my nape. I need to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent moaning.

“And you have a heart condition,” Walt counters, glaring over my head at Jude behind me. “A hot tub isn’t good for you either.”

“My heart is as strong as ever. Plus, I have Angelica to take care of me.” He cups the back of my neck and runs his thumb up the side, pausing as if feeling for my pulse, which is rapid.

Just what is he doing to me?

“And you have Sandy to take care of you.” At the mention of her name, Walt’s wife seems to pop from a daydream, most likely of the man behind me and what he’s hardly hiding in his saturated swim briefs. She shakes her head and glances at her husband.

“Oh my. Jude is correct. We need to get out of here, Walty. We’ve been in here long enough.” She lifts her hands, holding her palms toward us. “My fingers are already raisins.”

Walt glances at what must be a waterproof watch on his wrist. “We have forty-five minutes before cocktails, Jude,” he warns.

“Plenty of time to get things done,” Jude counters.