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

 
    
Jud wiped down the counter in front of her,
buffing it dry, then tossed the rag under the bar. “I feel a certain kinship.”

 
    
She propped her chin on her hand.
“Kinship?”

 
    
“In Derek, I see a lot of myself when I was
his age. He needs direction. A mentor. He’s wild and undisciplined, but he’ll
go far if someone offers him a hand.”

 
    
That was the most Jud had ever said
regarding his own past. She felt a little thrill of victory that he’d given her
this additional revelation into his character. “So, you were undisciplined and
wild. Interesting.”

 
    
He cocked a brow, and she saw the devil in
that look.

 
    
“Very. Someday I’ll tell you the story of
my wild days.”

 
    
She almost laughed. He owned and managed a
sex club, for God’s sake. How much more wild could it get? She was suddenly
dying to know. “Come on, reveal all.”

 
    
He smiled. He had a wicked grin that
intoxicated most women. “Later. Tell me how you think I should handle Derek.”

 
    
That floored her. Jud always listened, and
they’d had many an interesting political, ethical, or moral discussion, but
this was something else entirely. “You want my opinion?”

 
    
“I value your opinion highly. Derek’s had
troubles. A bad home life when he was a kid, drugs, run-ins with the cops. He’s
lost his belief in himself, not that anyone could ever tell him that. There’s a
fine line between offering him helpful advice and telling him what to do. He’d
listen to the former and ignore the latter.”

 
    
“And you were a lot like him, huh?”

 
    
One side of his mouth quirked. “Let’s just
say, if someone told me I needed to get my life in order, I’d have told him to
take a flying leap. I thought I was controlling my life when in reality, life
controlled me.”

 
    
“And now it’s the other way round?”

 
    
“Yes. Exactly. I make my own destiny.”

 
    
There were dimensions to Jud she’d never
fully explored. He’d been a bad boy, but he’d turned around to take life by its
tail. Not that she’d ever doubted that about him for a minute. Someday, she’d
love to hear more, but right now, she basked in the fact that he’d asked for
her help. “Maybe it’s time for a little tough love.”

 
    
“As in get your shit together, or you’ll
lose this job?”

 
    
“Yeah. Or maybe just tell him that out in
the real world there are no second chances. And here at the club, he’s on his
last chance with you.”

 
    
Jud leaned in and chucked her under the
chin. “Lady, we’re of like minds. I’m glad you approve of my choice of action,
because that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

 
    
“Right. Like you needed my approval.”

 
    
He cocked his head and stared at her for a
moment. She shivered under his suddenly intense gaze.

 
    
“You’d be surprised what I need.”

 
    
Now, that was deliciously mysterious. And
just a bit frightening. Jud was her friend, and asking the meaning of that
statement might be moving into dangerous territory.

 
    
“Well, I’m glad I could assist, and I have
to say I admire you for helping the kid out.”

 
    
He winked, and the odd tension she’d felt
melted away.

 
    
“Now, tell me about your evening. How were
the young men?”

 
    
She let her lips curve as she thought of
her encounter. “Very enjoyable, thank you.” If she sometimes wished for a bit
more of a surprise, it certainly didn’t diminish the pleasure.

 
    
“Good. Your satisfaction is my greatest
desire.” He brushed her hand, shooting a tiny spark of electricity up her arm.
“Excuse me while I fill this order.” Then he moved down to attend to the
waitress at the end of the bar.

 
    
He was such a gallant, always checking on
her pleasure. He’d set strict rules for his club, affording his patrons a
feeling of security. Men required an invitation, and the first time they had to
be accompanied by an approved female guest. Though a stickler for his rules,
Jud made exceptions for what he deemed a worthy cause. Brett, Virginia’s
husband, had been one such worthy cause, as if Jud somehow knew how well that
would turn out. Still, if anyone misbehaved, they were out for good, even
women. In other ways, though, women were given a different treatment. Stacy had
secured complimentary invitations for friends, like Debbie, she felt might
benefit from the club’s offerings. Ladies could also be awarded a standing
invitation, meaning they could arrive at any time on any evening and join in
anything they chose, free of charge. Few were granted, but Stacy had received
her coveted standing invitation long ago.

 
    
Sipping her champagne, she glanced in the
mirror behind the bar, perusing the guests reflected in the glass. Someone had
been watching her tonight. Who could it have been? Though she liked
not
knowing, it was always delicious to
speculate. She surveyed the men at the tables but failed to make eye contact.
Maybe her voyeur was shy, observing her only when she wasn’t looking. What
about him, the thin, lanky-looking one? He seemed like a watcher. Light hit his
glasses, disguising his eyes and any intimate knowledge that might have been in
his glance. She let her gaze move on to another table.

 
    
Hmm. Her two studs were back in the bar,
stopping at a table occupied by two older women dressed in stylish suits, one
in navy blue, the other in a bright shade of fuchsia. As Stacy’s lovers took
the empty barstools, the two women smiled in unison, their lips hopeful, their gazes
needy.

 
    
Those young studs would make their wildest
dreams come true, and really, Stacy felt happy for them. The club was all about
female empowerment, about rejuvenating a woman’s lost spark of desirability
brought on by ignorant husbands and busy lives. A woman needed to be wanted, to
feel special, incomparable in a man’s eyes. These women deserved to feel like
that. All women did. It was a God-given right.

 
    
Of course, it was an illusion. But who
cared? The two ladies didn’t. Stacy didn’t.

 
    
Though it was a bit of slam that
her
two young men were prowling for
fresh meat so soon. That was the problem with sex: it was like Chinese food; it
tasted good at the time, but ten minutes after eating it, you were hungry
again.

 
    
A warm hand caressed her bare arm. “They
didn’t please you, so you tossed them back into the sea. Tell me how they
disappointed you. I’ll revoke their club privileges.”

 
    
“No, they were fine, Jud. I was
just...tired, I guess.” She smiled. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him she
was a bit disappointed to find Erik and Caesar in the bar. “I preferred coming
down here for one of your special champagne cocktails.”

 
    
He looked her over with a penetrating gaze.
The lights shining up from the bar cast a shadow across his cheekbones, making his
brown eyes seem deeper. He pinned her with that dark look as easily as he held
her with his hand on her arm.

 
    
“They aren’t what you need.” His voice was
barely more than a husky whisper, and tingles sped along her nerve endings.

 
    
“And what do I need?”

 
    
“You need a real man. A man who knows his
way around the subtle nuances of every feminine curve. A man who has all the
time in the world to lavish a woman’s body with attention. A man who knows how
to excite with a look.”

 
    
Good Lord. That’s exactly what Jud was
doing to her. Her skin felt flushed, her nipples tight and achy, her body hot
and wet. With just his gaze on her lips and his fingers on her arm. He made her
forget all about her boys making time on the other side of the bar. But this
was Jud. Their friendship was sacrosanct. The club was about sex, but the time
she spent with Jud was something else. At the moment, she couldn’t define what
that was, only what it wasn’t. It wasn’t supposed to be about wanting him to
drag her up to one of the private rooms and make her come until she was
delirious.

 
    
“I told you they were fine.” The faintest
tremor flowed through her voice.

 
    
He didn’t let her go. “They’re too young.
They don’t have a clue. They might be able to fuck the hell out of you, but
they’ll never touch you the way you should be touched.”

 
    
Stacy was shocked into silence. Jud rarely
employed gutter talk. He was too refined. Yet the words sent another tremor
through her she was sure he could feel.

 
    
“You need a real man, not a boy playing at
being a man, someone who knows how to provide the very thing a woman doesn’t
even know she needs.”

 
    
He sounded like the kid in
The Sound of Music
who claimed his
girlfriend needed someone older and wiser. Jud was older, and oddly, he exuded
an aura of wisdom. He was a mentor, as his dealings with Derek indicated,
having experienced wild times and learned from them.

 
    
Still, she’d found that some older men were
pathetic, used-up has-beens who could only get a younger woman by dangling the
scent of money. Or lying. Yet, she’d given older men a chance, more than once.
She still remembered the “nice” man who’d insulted her and her friend within
the first fifteen minutes after their arrival at a downtown bar. First, he’d
informed her he didn’t like her language (she’d used the word
screw
), she was rude to the waitress
(not), and her friend needed to lose weight (get out!). Older men could be very
judgmental.

 
    
Not that Jud was any of those things. He
was the farthest thing from a has-been. Used-up? Oh no, he had quite a few more
washings left before his stitches fell out. And judgmental? Jud lived by the
motto, judge not lest you be judged. Jud was an
anything-goes-as-long-as-no-one-gets-hurt kind of man.

 
    
But she wasn’t in the market for a sexual
lesson.

 
    
“I know exactly what I need,” she said,
refuting his claim.

 
    
“Do you?” He tilted his head, his long
lashes effectively hiding his expression.

 
    
“I want fun with no entanglements.”
Monogamy was good for some of her friends, very good, in fact, but the idea of
it didn’t do a thing for her. “I want to leave what happens at the club behind
and go home to my business and my life.” Which truly was more important than
any surprise she might wish for.

 
    
“I beg to differ. I think there’s a lot
more you need.”

 
    
“Really? Why don’t you tell me?” She felt a
certain coolness enter her voice, as if he’d stepped over some invisible line
between them. She didn’t like being under his microscope.

 
    
Before he could answer, a blonde wriggled
onto the barstool next to Stacy’s.

 
    
“
Ju-ud
.”

 
    
“Me-lo-
dee
,” Jud
mimicked in return. Then he turned to Stacy and mouthed, “Excuse me a minute.”

 
    
“I really, really need a drink. I’m simply
parched. What do you recommend? Something...tart.” Melody fluttered her
eyelashes and puckered her lips as if she wanted far more from Jud than a glass
of wine. Which she probably did.

 
    
Stacy was glad for the interruption, except
that Melody could be a trifle boring. Though close to thirty, the woman
affected an annoying little-girl whimper when she wanted something. Pretty,
with blue eyes, loads of blond hair, which Stacy was sure didn’t come out of a
bottle, she had a body that epitomized the current model-thin style. Except for
her breasts. Melody had an immense chest that made men drool.