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Behind His Lens Page 15
Author: R.S. Grey

Heavyset bouncers man the entry, allowing clusters of people to enter every now and then. But when our group walks up, they quickly part the crowd and let us enter with a quick flourish of velvet rope.

Everyone in line boos in protest behind us. I doubt they realize Hudson is one of the owners. They probably just think we’re VIPs or something, which I guess tonight we are. That thought should excite me more and it really was nice of him to invite us, but I’m not sure what he’s expecting from me. Surely he’ll be too busy to actually spend time with us.

The moment we enter the club, the flashing lights and music consume my senses. Sexy dancers in spandex shorts and crop tops dance on platforms as hoards of club-goers circle around the bar and dance floor. There must be hundreds of people inside, but it’s hard to tell in the sexy darkness of the club. Neon lights strobe above the room, illuminating certain areas and casting others into darkness. Our group doesn’t stop until we reach a set of black, glossy stairs that can only lead to trouble.

“We’ll check your coat in VIP. It’ll take less time to get them later on,” Hudson shouts in my ear, and I nod. I’d forgotten I was even wearing it. The club isn’t hot, but I imagine once we hit the dance floor we’ll warm up nicely.

The glossy stairs don’t take us to another floor. The seven steps simply raise the VIP area above the rest of the club so that we’re on an exclusive level. A thin glass railing rims the parameter of the VIP section, further dividing the club between the haves and the have-nots.

Just as my nude Louboutins step onto the second stair, a fast beat takes over the sound system and the entire club erupts in shouts. I twist toward the noise, forcing Hudson’s hand from my back on accident, and spot a house DJ spinning on a stage a few feet away from the VIP area. He’s got a flat-billed hat turned backward and a bright neon shirt over sagging jeans. I recognize his upbeat mix from the radio and the crowd is going wild so I know he must be famous.

Okay, this is pretty cool. Naomi turns around and the absolute joy written across her face says it all.

After we all check out the DJ, Hudson leads the group to a table in the center of the VIP area. A pretty waitress appears to grab our coats. Naomi and I unbutton them and just as I let the wool material drift down my arms, I feel Jude’s gaze practically devouring me, heating the air and caressing my skin with unspoken desire. I can’t look at him; I let my sexy curls hide my face as I try to remember to breathe.

“Wow,” Hudson’s tongue practically falls to the floor as his eyes hover a beat too long on the v-neck of my dress. I know it’s revealing quite a handful of cl**vage. Damn you, Naomi.

I glance up toward my traitorous friend and watch her mouth, “Own it.” Easier said than done, but she’s right. I should own it. I flip my hair behind my shoulder and glance up. Everyone’s seated at the table now except for Hudson and me, so I tuck my hands behind the back of my dress and slide into the seat directly opposite Jude. He’s eyeing me with a wicked grin and smoldering eyes; I wish I knew what was going through his thoughts right now. Everything seemed platonic at the coffee shop, even though my emotions were going haywire. Tonight feels different, like we’re both letting our guards slip and forgetting about the repercussions.

I don’t have time to wonder about it further though because Hudson turns to me, leaning in, and pulling me into a private conversation. That’s when it hits me. Jude didn’t bring a date. What the hell? He didn’t bring a date. I glance up briefly. He’s chatting with Naomi and Bennett, but maybe his date will meet us here?

“Charley,” Hudson says slowly, trying out my new name and pulling my attention back to him. “How have you been since high school? I mean obviously you’ve done well for yourself. You’re looking sexy as hell.” His breath carries remnants of tobacco and a vision of my mother prancing around the house with a glass of wine, nursing her second pack of cigarettes for the day, pops into my mind.

“I’ve been good.” I fidget awkwardly before folding my hands over my lap. I shouldn’t mind his compliment but for some reason it seems overly slick.

“You seem like you’re doing well too. Do you own many clubs?” I ask as my eyes glance around to take in my surroundings. They keep VIP so secluded that I can hardly see what the rest of the club looks like.

“This is the first. My dad wanted to diversify the business.”

“Well you guys did a great job. This place is really cool.”

Hudson’s gaze flits around everywhere as we talk. At first I assume he’s multi-tasking: trying to make sure his club’s opening is running smoothly while attempting to keep me entertained. But, I find myself following his gaze out of curiosity and my eyes land on a gorgeous brunette at the bar. She’s smiling over at him, practically eye-f**king him even as I look on. I can’t help but laugh. I don’t mind; I don’t particularly want his attention on me, but we literally just got here.

“Oh, thanks. My dad and I worked really hard the last few months,” he answers, only half interested.

I nod, trying to salvage the remnants of our conversation and stay focused on him rather than Jude, but it’s becoming harder by the second.

“I hope your father is doing well.” My words are completely lost on him as the brunette from the bar walks over and starts to whisper in his ear. He smiles and wraps his hand around her waist, squeezing her ample curves and making her squeal in delight. I feel like a voyeur, watching them like this, but as I’m about to get up and offer her my seat, the brunette walks off and Hudson eyes me once again. Damn.

“So do you like modeling?” he asks, running his smooth hand across my shoulder. My skin bristles under his touch and I have to fight the urge to pull away once again. He literally just had that hand wrapped around some girl’s ass.

Does he not realize how slimy that is? I can feel Jude’s gaze on me, but I don’t want to look over. I don’t want him to witness Hudson treating me like a toy, so easily disposable.

“Um, yes. It’s a means to an end,” I say flatly.

“That’s great!” He responds over enthusiastically, and I realize he’s not listening to a word I say. He’s glancing over my shoulder making sexy eyes with a redhead girl at the next table. Does this guy have ADD or what? Luckily, the same waitress that took out coats comes back at that moment with a round of drinks, saving me from this strange purgatory.

“Awesome,” Bennett shouts, reaching for a drink.

“Don’t forget to make eye contact when you toast or you’ll have seven years of bad sex!” Naomi shouts, and we all laugh as we take our glasses.

She turns to Bennett and they playfully stare into each other’s eyes and tilt forward until they end up face to face. Bennett leans in, closing the gap, and gives her a sweet kiss. I smile and clink glasses with Hudson quickly, before he gets the same idea, then with Bennett and Naomi, purposely leaving Jude for last. He leans over the small table and looks directly into my eyes as our glasses clink. His gaze is completely unreadable. Is that anger clouding his blue eyes?

“We wouldn’t want that,” he murmurs huskily as our glasses unite. His tone and sexy words completely catch me off guard and as I start to pull my glass away, the mixed drink spills over onto my trembling hand. Before I can reach to get a napkin, Jude is there, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his warm lips. Every person at the table watches him gently suck the alcohol off my skin, and in a whoosh, all of the oxygen leaves the room. My entire body reacts: my lungs hang in suspension, my mouth drops open, and the throbbing between my legs feels untamable. I cannot believe he just did that. And I cannot believe how good his lips felt on my skin.

The line has officially been crossed.

“Damn, Jude!” Naomi laughs, breaking the moment and lightening the mood. He laughs as if it was just a game and then drops my hand. The movement causes my n**ples to pull against the lacey fabric of my dress and I feel the wetness now dampening my thong. His lips were on my skin for less than a second and he turned my entire body into a ball of hot desire. Smug bastard.

As I adjust my dress and awkwardly take my seat, Hudson’s arm hits the back of my chair with a thud. I can’t meet his eyes or Jude’s. Guilt hits my stomach and I’m not sure who it’s for, Jude or Hudson? I can feel the tension emanating around the table. Hudson’s hostility practically blankets my skin, but he doesn’t really have the right. We clearly aren’t here on a date.

“What’s up, Hudson!” A voice booms behind us, and I inwardly sigh, relieved to have a distraction from my swirling thoughts. But the reprieve is short lived when I realize how many people are trailing after that voice. In a flash of movement and screeching chairs, our tiny table is overtaken and suddenly we’re in the middle of a rowdy group of Hudson’s friends. Bodies envelope us from all sides, patting Hudson on the back and offering greetings. I nod my head and offer introductions, but I can’t remember a single name after it’s all said and done, except for one: Olivia. But that’s only because she went to the same high school as Hudson and me. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she stayed in touch with Hudson; they ran in the same crowd.

Olivia was one of my good friends growing up, but we went our separate ways after junior high. She turned into a heavy partier and I focused on dance and studying to get into Columbia. She’s still as gorgeous as ever with her rich brown hair and classical features.

“No way! I can’t believe you’re actually at a club! I thought you fell off the face of the planet after high school. After everything went down…” she drawls as we awkwardly greet each other. Her words are masked with a cheesy, high-pitched voice that makes my ears ring.

I plaster on a fake smile and quickly fill in the lull at the end of her sentence before she can say another word. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How have you been, Olivia?” I ask, knowing that the surest way to avoid things I’d rather not discuss is to turn the conversation toward her. At least girls like her are predictable in that sense.

“I’m good. Just working in P.R., but I’m sure you knew that.” She gives my body a once over, but we aren’t in high school anymore and she can’t intimidate me the way she used to. Her eyebrows rise in approval as she appraises the nude Louboutins. Thank you, thank you, Naomi.

“Oh, I didn’t know, but that’s so great,” I ooze before glancing down at my light blue cocktail. Would I have turned out like her in another life?

“Yeah. I’m with one of the best firms in New York,” she says with a bored tone before scanning the group because, clearly, I’m not worthy of her time. When her head stops swiveling and her almond brown eyes narrow, I already know who she’s locked onto. Jude. He’s nodding and his head is dipped low, listening intently to one of Hudson’s friends. The gesture shadows half of his face in the club lighting, making him appear even sexier and more mysterious. Olivia practically locks onto him with her phasers.

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