Page 101 of The Invitation

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,begit, 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 faceagain.Do not fall.

“I’m losing my patience, Amelia,” he grates, shaking his daze away and slamming his mouth onto mine.

“Fuck off.” I bite at his lip, shoving him back, my stinging hand on autopilot, swiping at him again.Slap.His head jerks to the side, and he holds it there, breathing through his rising anger as I breathe through my rising craving for him. I’m in fight-or-flight mode, and the anger is ruling which option to take.

Fight. Fight him with everything I have. Hurt him. Protect myself.

Jude licks his lip as he slowly lifts his eyes to mine. They’re so dark. So full of rage, but I see his desperation past the sheen of anger. I don’t think straight around this man. I lose all reason, shift from stable and sensible to senseless and irrational.

I heave against the wall, my brow dampening, my body calling for him. And as I drop my eyes to the fly of his jeans, I see he’s turned on past his anger too, the bulge prominent. I want it. I wanthim.

Praying for help in maintaining my diminishing resistance, I look up as Jude snarls, moving slowly in, bracing himself for my out-of-control hand to come at him again. But I’m out of fight. I’m done. He slips a hand onto my waist, tugging my hips into his, his eyes hooded, his breath spreading all over my face. My palms find his hips, my cheek rubbing against the harshness of his bristle when he nuzzles me.

His cock pulses against my lower tummy.

My nose is invaded by his scent, calming me further, his hands working at my strung muscles across my back until I’m boneless against him. Settled.

His mouth moves to my ear. “I want you, Amelia,” he whispers, stamping all over my willpower with his words as well as his touch. “I want you so fucking much.” He kisses the sensitive spot beneath my earlobe, and my knees wobble. “We’ve got to figure this out together.” Taking my chin, he directs my face to his. “We can have angry sex now, you can take everything out on me, or you can come with me and let me try to fix this.” His eyes pour with sincerity that I can’t ignore. I just can’t. “But walking away isn’t an option.”

I bite at my lip, scared to say the words bubbling in my throat. Scared to seal my fate.

“It’s not an option,” he whispers, reinforcing it as he holds my face. “Come with me.”

“I have work people out there,” I say, remembering where I am. Why I’m here. “The partners. I can’t just leave.” My phone starts ringing, and I look across to my purse by the sink.

“Don’t answer it,” Jude says. “Please.”

“I have to.” It could be Abbie or Charley. They’ll be worried. Jude reluctantly breaks away, letting me get to my phone. It’s my boss. Oh God, did he see me with Jude? “Gary?”

“Just checking you’re okay,” he says. “We’re heading back to the hotel.”

I wince. Am I okay? I look at Jude in the reflection past me. He’s waiting patiently, but I detect his wariness.

“I’m okay,” I say quietly. “You go. I have an Uber coming.”

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