“I’m just that good. A-six.”
“Hit. Dammit.” She placed the red peg in her battleship, then stared down at herself. Bra or panties? She decided on her bra and reached around to unclasp it, but Jude stopped her.
“Uh-uh,” he said, voice thick. “Panties first.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Heat sparked in his gaze. “Absolutely.”
“Fine.” She stretched out her legs and shimmied out of the panties before balling them up in her hand. She tossed them at him. They bounced off his chest. Laughing, he scooped them up with his finger and waved them like a victory flag. She laughed, too. Couldn’t help it. He looked so damn satisfied with himself.
“I should forfeit,” she told him.
“You won’t.”
“You’re going to win.”
“Yup,” he said, completely unapologetic.
And a moment later he did, sinking the battleship and taking her bra as a prize. She hadn’t scored even one hit against him. How was that possible? She stood and leaned over the table to peek at his board. All of his ships sat stacked one on top of each other.
“You did cheat, you jerk!”
“No, I took a calculated risk. If you had hit one of my ships, you would have hit them all.”
“I demand a rematch!”
He smirked and reached out to trail a finger along the curve of her breast. “You don’t have any more clothes.”
“I’ll play naked.”
“Now that’s an intriguing offer.”
And a stupid one. Why the hell had that popped out of her mouth? It must be a mix of the wine and her competitive nature getting the best of her, and she reeled herself in, sat back down, and crossed her arms over her breasts. “That wasn’t a fair game.”
“Fair enough.”
“Ugh. You’re infuriating.”
“And you’re beautiful.”
That stopped her indignation in its tracks, and she realized he was staring at her like he wanted to lick her all over, all but devouring her with his eyes. Heat bloomed under her skin. Her nudity hadn’t bothered her before, but she didn’t want him to see the flush, didn’t want to let him know how much that languorous sweep of his heavy-lidded blue eyes turned her on. She scrambled to find something to cover herself with, ended up grabbing the thin blanket draped over the back of the nearby couch, and clutched it to herself as she stood.
“We had our one night,” she reminded him, and his easy smile slipped away.
“I’m not satisfied with that.”
“Too bad.”
Jude’s jaw tightened until a tick started in his cheek. “Are you?”
“That was the deal.”
“Forget the damn deal. You know how good we are together, Libby.”
They were good together, but only in bed, and that was the problem. If he were any other man, she’d have indulged in a fling without a thought. Then again, if he were any other man, she wouldn’t have been interested in a fling to begin with. Jude was it for her. The first time they had made love, he’d ruined her for all other men, and she’d made her peace with the fact that she was going to end up a career-focused spinster.
Now here he was again. Back in her life, offering only part of what she truly wanted, and she couldn’t bring herself to take even that. She couldn’t put herself through the heartbreak of falling in love with him again, and she was terrified that she wouldn’t be able to help herself if she spent more than one night with him.
Shaking her head, she backed away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Chapter Fourteen
Libby rolled over on the big bed for the fourth time that night and kicked off the sheets. So uncomfortable. And hot, her skin flushed despite the softly blowing air conditioner.
Why couldn’t she just sleep already?
Okay, she knew that answer even though she loathed admitting it, even to herself. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw images of Jude in this bed with her, doing things to her that made her insides quake.
It wasn’t fair.
Out of all the men on the planet, she had to want the one who was the worst for her mental health. Frustrating, annoying, impossible, selfish Jude Wilde.
But he was right about one thing: they burned up the sheets together and, God, did she need the release of a good orgasm right now. She’d been wound so tight since their fight this afternoon, and then the way he’d stared at her during Battleship…
No man ever stared at her like that. No man, that is, except for Jude.
“You can’t have him,” she told the ceiling.