Jude’s sardonic laugh echoes through the broken night. He’s perfectly aware that the police will care more about the man’s drunken shenanigans than the fact that we mistakenly entered a private beach.
I watch Jude gather our belongings again, preparing to leave, but I stand frozen, trying to process the scene. A moment later, when Jude reaches for me, I rear back in fear. Not of Jude, exactly, but of the entire situation. Everything happened so fast, one minute I was having a mind-boggling orgasm, and the next, a crazy drunk was yanking me around. Suddenly Jude’s blue eyes pierce through my haze like an old friend and his soft words melt over me.
“Hey, Charley. It’s okay. We’re leaving,” he caresses my hair gently, and I nod, taking his hand and letting him pull me back toward the hotel.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jude
“Are you okay?” I ask, keeping her tucked near me as we walk back into the hotel. Neither one of us offered to speak on the journey back. I wanted to make sure I’d calmed down enough that I wouldn’t take any of my anger out on her. That guy was completely out of line, and I should have done something more. The a**hole won’t even have a scratch on him when the police get there. Charley, on the other hand, will be sporting a colorful bruise by tomorrow, no doubt. Poor Angel. I can’t believe he thought he could touch her like that and get away with it.
Undoubtedly, the situation shook her nerves, but I’ll have to be sure that she isn’t scared of me because of it. I have a temper, most people do once they come back from wars, but I keep mine in check unless it’s provoked for reasons like that.
“Yes,” she answers so quietly that I have to consider if I actually heard her or not. She clears her throat and meets my eyes.
“I am.” Her faint smile barely reaches her cheeks, and the hair framing her face almost acts as a shield against the world.
When we arrive outside of her suite, I’m prepared to bend down and kiss her goodnight, knowing she needs space, but then her words catch me off guard.
“Sleep in my room tonight.”
Her hands tighten into a ball at her waist and she lets her head fall while she waits for my reply.
I pause, glancing down at her, trying to read the emotions playing behind those delicate features. Her eyebrows are tugged together, her cheeks are flush, and her lips are still rosy red from our kisses on the beach.
“Just sleep,” she adds, and before she has to say anything more, I slide the key into her door and push it open.
“I’m going to shower and grab some clothes to change into. I’ll meet you back over here in a second.” In reality, I want to wash away the remnants of my rage before I step closer to her.
“Okay,” she murmurs, but there’s a sweet gleam behind her eyes when she glances up at me.
…
Her room is dark by the time I wedge through the door, but a small lamp illuminates my path to her bed. She’s lying down, watching the ocean through her window. When I pad closer, she doesn’t even turn to look at me. Is she sleeping already?
Bright blond hair, still damp from her shower, splays out across her pillow in a golden halo. She’s wearing pajama pants and one of those spaghetti strapped, tank tops. There’s a harsh red thumb print already forming across the beautiful skin on her arm.
“Charley?” I ask, stepping around the corner of the bed so I can see her face. She’s not asleep. She’s focused intently on the window, or rather what lies beyond it.
“Charley?” I ask again, and this time she blinks and props her head up on her hand.
“Sorry, I was studying the colors of the ocean,” she smiles up at me.
“The colors?” I ask incredulously.
“Yes. I’m trying to commit them to memory so I can paint this scene when I get home,” she explains, glancing out to the ocean once again.
I follow her gaze out toward the dark water and try to discern what she’s seeing with her artistic eye. Blue is all that comes to mind. Dark blue that turns to black as it fades away from the moonlight. Is that what she wants to remember? It seems easy enough.
“Tell me the colors you see, Charley.”
She frowns, trying to understand my request.
“I want to know what you see,” I explain.
“Come lay with me and I’ll tell you,” she replies with a tired smile.
Within a moment, I’m climbing up onto the bed to lie beside her. The blanket is thick and fluffy, successfully concealing Charley’s entire body underneath. But with a steady hand, I slide underneath to join her so that her back rests against my chest. When I prop myself up on my elbow, I can see past her head and out through the window, just like her.
“I’m ready,” I whisper in her ear, wrapping my arm around her petite frame and tugging her in close.
She doesn’t speak right away, but when she does, there’s unbridled passion behind every word and I know she’s speaking of her life’s true love. It’s inspiring hearing her expose the very nature of her soul.
“At first you notice the overwhelming amount of blue, right?”
“Yes,” I nod.
“But if you let your eyes study each part, truly let your mind explore the complexities of the scene before you, then other colors begin to appear and demand their presence be known as well. For instance, the sky itself isn’t merely blue. It’s black at its darkest points and then it degrades slowly toward navy and marine blue. Eventually the light from the stars turn the sky to a bright turquoise, especially around the moon.”
I kiss the back of her neck sweetly. “Tell me more.”
Giggling, she leans into me, “The sand closest to the rolling tide is bright gold in the moonlight, but other areas are hidden and shadowed. I’ll use deep oranges and browns to darken and shade those areas.”
I kiss her gently, encouraging her words.
“And white,” she declares proudly. “There’s white everywhere. It’s used to highlight elements or to mix colors into the perfect hues. There’s so much white on a night like this.”
“Most people think that the elements are formed with one pure shade, but everything’s an amalgam of colors mixed in just the right combination. The feeling of the black sky, the emotions it draws out of you as you stare toward the stars. That’s what I want to take back to New York with me.”
I kiss up to her earlobe. “I like hearing you talk about your painting. Will you show me the canvases in your apartment when we get home?”
She nods and her hair tickles my cheek. I want to turn her to face me, but I don’t want to push her too far. I just want to savor every moment.
“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier,” I apologize, nuzzling her neck.
Her warm hand finds my arm beneath the blanket and she runs her fingernails gently back and forth across my skin. It’s a subtle act, but it feels intimate, like something a lover would do.
“You didn’t. I was really glad you held your temper as long as you did,” she sighs. “I can’t blame you for getting upset after he grabbed me.”
“Does your arm hurt?” I ask, pushing up off the bed to inspect it.
She glances down at the mark, an indecipherable expression marring her serene features. “No. Not really, and I’m thinking the redness will fade by tomorrow morning.”
I look down into her wide blue eyes, trying to discern any hidden pain. “Good.”
“We should go to sleep, Jude,” she smiles, turning her head and laying her check back down onto her pillow. I find my spot behind her once again.
“I don’t think it’ll be possible with you lying so close,” I admit, inhaling her sweet vanilla scent.
“I know. My body feels like I’ve just had three cups of coffee.”
She sighs and I know she’s being truthful because I can feel her quick pulse against my finger as I spin small circles under her tank top. I should stop and pull my hand away. After all, it won’t help either one of us get to sleep, but her warm, sexy body is too enticing to ignore.
“We’ll have to think of other things,” she declares softly.
“Hmm… like what?”
“I don’t know. Nuns, babies… something really gross,” she laughs.
I smirk even though she can’t see it. “None of those seem like good options to me.”
“Shhh… we’re supposed to be sleeping,” she laughs gently, pushing her face into her pillow playfully so her golden hair is all I see.
“Goodnight, Charley,” I relent, pulling her in tight and cocooning her against me.
“Night, Jude.”
…
Charley
Warm breath and soft stubble caress the back of my neck, just behind my ear, and I careen toward the sensations greedily. The action is instinctual, like the hardwiring of my DNA acknowledging its complement strands. Even in my dreamy state, when his lips find my skin with soft nips, a hum sounds from the back of my throat. His persistent touching forces consciousness to begin to filter in. I hold off as long as I can, trying to stay in the brief moment of blissful emptiness, where there is only us: Jude and me.
“I have to go, Charley. We have to be ready in thirty minutes to drive to the shoot.”
No.
I groan in protest as the layers of my sleepy haze peel away. “Don’t make me. Let’s just sleep all day.”
“I wish, but it’ll be fun once we get there. You’ve probably never seen an active volcano before.”
“Is that supposed to make me want to get up?” I groan, trying to roll toward him, but he’s already crawling off the bed to leave.
He chuckles and leans over to kiss me again, “Up, pretty girl. I’ll meet you down in the lobby soon.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Charley
The day passed so quickly that as I walk toward the resort’s restaurant for dinner, I realize it feels like an entire week of activities were crammed into the last few hours. This morning, after Jude practically pulled me out of our bed, the crew trekked to Hualalai, an active volcano on the western edge of the island. I learned as we were driving to the location that “active” is a relatively loose term in relation to volcanoes. This one hasn’t erupted since 1801, so our photo shoot was safe and sound.
All of the models dressed in skimpy red and black swimsuits of varying styles. The make-up crew gave us dark, smoky eyes and layered on the mascara until I could hardly lift my eyelid. It was much different than anything I’d ever done before, but Jude was right; it ended up being really fun once we got there. We didn’t do any solo shots. Ryan directed us in small groups and then we took a few with all ten of us for the large centerfolds of the magazine. They should be artistic and sexy. I don’t think anyone will look at volcanoes the same after they see us in our bikinis.
Luckily, the magazine won’t come out for a couple of months, which gives me just enough time to forget about the impending fame. Hell, maybe I’ll miss the release all together and just pretend it never happened. The only evidence will be the big fat paycheck sitting in my bank upon my return back home.