Behind His Lens (13 page)

“You wouldn’t dare,” she huffs dramatically, although I know it’s secretly her dream job. Getting paid to be crazy? She would never leave. “Not unless the Kardashians need a new sister. I’d have to change my name to Kaomi, but it’d be worth it.”

I’m still laughing at her fake name when the cab pulls up in front
of Hudson’s new club, but the moment I spy Jude through the window, every ounce of humor is completely wiped from my body.
Holy.

He and Bennett are standing outside on the curb talking to Hudson. There’s a
winding line of people waiting to get into the swanky club. It wraps around the entire building. Girls shiver in their short skirts, checking their makeup and complaining constantly no doubt. Guys shuffle back and forth impatiently, checking out those same short skirts and trying to move closer to their prey for the night.

I knew Hudson’s club opening would be packed, but this is insane. Naomi reaches over to pay the cabdriver since I bought our lunches at the spa earlier
, and I follow her out into the chilly night air. Music pounds from the club doors, reverberating through my body and joining the already pulsing rhythm of my heartbeat. And then my eyes fall on
him
again and everything else melts away.

Dark tousled hair, dark
stubble, and icy blue eyes. Black fatigue jacket, a white t-shirt pulling taut against his muscled abs leading down to dark jeans, and his sexy leather boots. I lick my lips, tasting the sweetness of my bright red lipstick. He hasn’t seen me yet. He’s turned toward Hudson and Bennett with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. I would have stood there, frozen in desire, but Naomi pulls me forward and I follow blindly. As we walk up, cat calls sound from the crowd of people waiting in line and the guys turn toward the commotion. There are dozens of people on the sidewalk, but I don’t notice them because
our
eyes meet and the air ignites between us. His searing gaze glides from my eyes, to my lips, to my jacket and then slowly down my long, exposed legs. I want to squirm beneath his appraisal, but I can’t move. He’s got every motor unit in my body in lockdown. When he finally meets my eyes again, a fiery need burns behind his blue gaze and I can’t help but smirk. He hasn’t even seen the dress yet.

Just then,
Hudson glides in front of me, cutting off the magnificent view and dowsing the once sizzling air. He reaches out to grip my shoulder in greeting, but his hand feels cold and my first instinct is to shirk away from his touch. I keep my eyes focused on the lapel of his black suit jacket as I try to will myself to plaster on a genuine smile.

“You look great, Clarissa,” he offers as his eyes peruse the same path Jude’s had only seconds earlier. Can he see that my skin’s already been set ablaze by someone else? I barely glance over his preppy suit and tie, but I offer him a friendly smile. His
dirty blonde hair is gelled back, displaying all of his handsome features, but strangely I don’t see the appeal like I once did.

“Hi Hudson, thanks so much for inviting us. This place is packed.” I tuck my hands into my coat pocket, realizing how chilly the night air is without Ju
de’s eyes warming my body. “And actually I go by Charley now,” I clarify, hoping he’ll accept the transition without question.

A brief scowl covers his features before he offers a curt nod and turns toward the group.

“C’mon guys, let’s go inside.” Naomi squeals in excitement as Hudson’s hand hits the small of my back over my coat and dress. It’s not a crude gesture, but my eyes immediately dart to Jude as a wave of guilt hits me. Do I expect him to be upset? If so, I should be relieved to see him lift his eyebrows and smile before turning on his heel and leading the way inside.

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 cleavage.
Damn you, Naomi.

I glance up to
ward 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-fucking 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 nipples 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.