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Wilde Nights in Paradise (Wilde Security #1) Chapter Eighteen 67%
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Chapter Eighteen

Libby turned her head and found his lips less than an inch from hers. Stunned, she studied his face. His eyes were so serious and a little sad, and she wondered why she’d never noticed that sorrow in him before. Maybe he was just that good at hiding under a gloss of devil-may-care attitude. Or maybe she’d never really looked. Probably more like it. At one time, the wildness in him had thrilled her, and she hadn’t wanted him to be anything but the irreverent bad boy that her father disapproved of.

“My God,” she whispered. “Who are you?”

Confusion carved grooves in his forehead. “I’m…me.”

“No, you’re not. Not the Jude I knew. That Jude wouldn’t care about…” She waved a hand at the scenery, at a loss for words. “Well, any of this. What happened to you to make you change so much?”

“Oh.” His shoulders slumped, but then he met her gaze straight on, and she saw a flicker of something there. Hope? Fear? Maybe an anxious combination of both. “I’m the same guy I’ve always been, Libby.”

“Then I barely knew you. That whole year, you might as well have been a stranger to me.” The realization lodged a hard lump in her throat. “It never would have worked between us.”

“Probably not,” he agreed.

“Did you know that when you proposed to me?”

“I knew you only saw part of me, the part I projected, but I was okay with that. I’m used to being that man and could have kept on being him for you. I’ve been playing the part most of my life anyway.”

“But…” She couldn’t wrap her mind around any of this. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because that’s what was expected of me from my brothers, my classmates, my teachers, my superior officers… Jude, the wild child. The perpetual fuck up.”

“And you never wanted to prove them wrong?”

“I tried for a while, but in school, if I made good grades, the teachers accused me of cheating. Whenever I tried to help my brothers around home, I always managed to screw shit up. In the Marines, my superiors—your father—labeled me as a problem from day one in OCS and never gave me a shot to prove otherwise. So I stopped trying and let everybody see what they wanted to see.”

“Including me.”

“Yes. Including you.”

She turned away. Stared at the mangroves and their tumble of roots disappearing into the water, almost like they were tiptoeing through the marshlands. She supposed, if she really looked, if she blocked out her fear of the potential threats hiding here, it was kind of beautiful in the same way that Jude was beautiful. Wild, complicated, dangerous—and yet somehow alluring.

She burned to ask him why he’d ended their relationship in the way he had. If he’d wanted out, why hadn’t he just walked away? Why had he felt the need to crush her heart into dust first? And so publicly, in front of all of her friends.

Now in this secluded tunnel, miles away from her real life, would be the time to ask if there ever was one, but she couldn’t bring herself to form the words. They lodged in her throat. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she could bear to hear the answer. “Can we get out of here, please?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The board wobbled underneath her as he gained his feet with a fluid grace she envied. The paddle made a soft sound as it dipped into the water and pushed them forward. She watched the mangroves pass overhead in silence, jumping at every little splash against the mangled roots, terrified of a wayward crocodile making them into lunch despite his reassurances.

Jude didn’t seem worried. In fact, he was so calm and more relaxed than she had ever seen him. Peaceful. He paddled at an even, steady rhythm, slower than she would have liked, and took in their surroundings with a smile quirking his lips. She found herself watching him more than the scenery.

Eight years ago, she had convinced herself she loved him. If she was honest, under all of the hurt, part of her still felt that way. Except what did she really know about him? He’d all but admitted that the man she knew and once loved was a fantasy version of himself, so who was the real Jude? This one, so serene and carefree, who enjoyed the outdoors? The player who cheated on her with a well-endowed brunette two days after he proposed? Or the man who had asked her to marry him over a romantic dinner with so much emotion that it still choked her up to think about that night?

The quirk of Jude’s lips spread into a dazzling smile. He glanced down, caught her gaze with his sparkling baby blues, and motioned up ahead with his chin. “Look.”

Still half-afraid of seeing a croc, she slowly turned to face the front of the board, and a gasp escaped her. Up ahead, the mangrove tunnel opened up into an expanse of blue-green ocean. Sunlight shimmered across the top of the calm water, and she shielded her eyes against the brightness.

Now this… This was beautiful. A tropical paradise.

Jude picked up the pace, propelling them away from the shore and the creepy mangroves, out into open water. She was torn between watching the muscles in his arms and chest bunch and flex with each pull of the paddle and the colorful coral reef racing by under the board.

Eventually, they came to a gliding halt. This far out, the white sand beach around the island looked like a rim of salt around a margarita glass, but the water was still fairly shallow and so clear she saw every fish that swam by below them. Jude sat down and laid the paddle alongside his leg, then unzipped the pack that she’d forgotten he still wore. He pulled out two bottles of water, handed her one, and then twisted off the cap of his own. As carefully as she could, she spun around so that she was facing him and watched him drink down the water in three long pulls. Sweat slicked his hair away from his face and made his skin shine in the sunlight.

“This better?” he asked when he finished and reached over his shoulder to return the empty bottle to the bag.

“It’s lovely.” She finished her own water and handed him the bottle. “It’s like nobody’s ever been here before.”

“And no creepy mangroves.” He shifted until he straddled the board, dipping his legs in the water up to just past his knees. Libby bet that felt wonderful and mimicked him, submerging her legs and kicking gently, propelling the board in small circles.

Jude chuckled, took hold of her under her knees, and dragged her toward him. His hands slipped upward, and little thrills zinged from the heat of his palms on her thighs to the tips of her breasts.

“Wanna try something?”

She eyed him, wary of the mischievous sparkle lighting his eyes. “Like what?”

“How good is your balance?”

“Really, you haven’t figured that out by now? Not good.”

“That’s okay. I have enough for the both of us.” He pulled her up so that she was straddling him instead of the board, and he nuzzled her cleavage, tugging down the front of her top with his teeth.

“Oh! Oh,” she gasped as his lips closed over a taut nipple. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” And yet she couldn’t bear to push him away.

His laughter brushed over her nipple and rumbled through her entire body. “Why not?”

“Because someone—” His thumb slipped under the edge of her swimsuit bottoms and found her clitoris. Pleasure warmed her limbs to pliant rubber. She tightened her legs around him to keep from falling off the board and bit her lip against the need to cry out. “Oh God. Someone could see us.”

“So we’ll show them how it’s done.”

“Jude!”

“Libby,” he said in the same exasperated tone. “You’ve stood up in a moving car, gone paddle boarding through the mangroves. You’re a regular wild woman. What’s another risk? And a little one at that? There’s nobody around for miles.” His fingers joined his thumb, teasing her entrance but denying her full penetration until her hips bucked, insisting on more.

Male satisfaction tinged his smile. “What do you want?”

“More. Oh God, I want more. What do you do to me?”

“Make you come.” His voice was little more than a growl, and he delved his fingers deep into her sex. “Over and over again, I’ll make you come.”

Her entire being shuddered at his words and the intrusion of his fingers, but it wasn’t enough. She needed his body inside hers as she spasmed around him in climax. She reached between them and found his shaft hard, hot, and so ready for her. Wrapping her fingers around him, she squeezed and gave his length a slow, languorous stroke that left him groaning, his free hand clenching in her hair.

“Christ, Libby. Yeah, just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” He guided her mouth to his for a branding kiss, and she felt powerful in the most deliciously feminine way, capable of making a strong man like him beg.

“Come here,” he whispered against her mouth, and his hands delved under her rear, lifting her up. Balancing her weight with one arm, he shoved down the front of his board shorts, freeing himself. Moisture beaded on the tip of his penis as he took himself in hand. “Reach around into my pack, front left pocket.”

She blinked and ripped her gaze away from his hand sliding up and down, up and down. “What?”

“Condoms,” he said between his teeth. “We need one.”

Wow, he’d thought of everything. She leaned into him and reached over his shoulder, fumbling around to find the right pocket. And maybe she had a little fun teasing him, letting her sex rub against the broad head of his straining erection. The rumble that came from his throat was the most gratifying sound she’d ever heard.

There were at least ten foil packets in the zippered pocket, and she had to laugh. That was her Jude. The eternal optimist.

She handed him one and watched between their bodies as he rolled it on. He held it in place with one hand and guided her hips down with the other.

“Ride me.”

Yes. God, yes. In that second, she wanted nothing else.

She dug her nails into his hard shoulders for balance and lowered herself onto him, welcomed him inside her body, rocking until he was as deep as he could go. Then she stilled, enjoying the pulsing, impatient length of him stretching her to the delicious edge between pain and pleasure.

“Babe,” he groaned, “you gotta move.”

Sweat beaded on his upper lip, the cords in his neck strained at the effort of holding still, and his erection bucked in demand inside her—but she had him trapped, and they both knew it. He had to balance the board so this was 100 percent her show, and call her evil, but she wanted to torture him a bit first.

“I don’t gotta do anything for you.” She wound her fingers in his hair and tugged his lips toward hers, grinding against him in slow circles, letting the sparks of pleasure tingling along her nerve endings guide her movements.

He growled and reached for her waist, but the board started to list to one side. With a curse against her lips, he dropped his hands and readjusted his balance, then scowled at her. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I am.” She lifted her hips until nothing but his tip penetrated her, then sank back onto him with deliberate, agonizing slowness and watched his eyes glaze over with pleasure. “And so are you.”

He made a sound close to a whimper as she lifted herself off him again. “You’re killing me.”

“Then you’ll die a happy man.”

This time, his laughter came out somewhere between a gasp and a grumble. “You make me so fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Ditto.”

She rode him until the tips of her fingers numbed and their breaths mingled in heavy pants. His mouth found her breast again, and the tug of his teeth on her nipple surged all the way to her womb. That was it, all she needed, and her climax shuddered through her in wild bursts of color and sensation that left her in a state of dizzy bliss.

When she opened her eyes again, she realized Jude had taken control, somehow holding the board steady as he grasped her hips and pumped in short, hard strokes. She watched the erotic slide of his body disappearing into hers, saw his sexy stomach muscles convulse just before his head dropped back and he groaned in climax.

Beautiful. Wild, complicated, and dangerous. So very dangerous but now, with her second orgasm building to a shattering peak, she didn’t care.

As the electric tingles subsided, she collapsed against him in a clumsy, gasping heap that made the board rock.

“Careful.” Jude lifted her and pulled off the condom, sliding it into the package it came in, then dropping it into an empty pocket in his pack for later disposal. He tucked himself back into his shorts before adjusting her bikini bottom, covering her again. She couldn’t decide if he was a jerk for worrying about her modesty now or if the action was incredibly sweet. Either way, her heart gave a giddy ba-bump in response.

With the sigh of well-sated man, Jude settled back on the board, using his pack for a pillow. He pulled her on top of him and draped one arm over his eyes. They lay together like that for a long time, soaking in the warm sun, listening to the soft lap of the water against their board and the guttural gaw gaw gaw of birds calling out, almost as if scolding them for their promiscuity. Libby smiled at the thought and lifted her head. They were closer to shore now, had drifted away from the beach and back toward the mangroves, and she could see a handful of black, brown, and yellow birds flitting through the branches. The sun sat lower in the sky, casting deep shadows around the mangrove roots, and worry started to edge out her good mood. She bit her lip. Part of her—the lazy, sun-warmed, sex-sedated part—didn’t want today to end, but the rest of her definitely didn’t want to be anywhere near those trees after dark.

“We should get back before the sun sets.”

Jude gave no reply. She looked down at him.

Sleeping.

Typical man , she thought with amusement. Give ‘em an orgasm and it’s lights out. She took a moment to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, to admire the way the bright red-gold evening sunlight made the ink in his tattoos pop to brilliant life.

Maybe she could get a tattoo. She’d always secretly wanted one and what better time and place to get one than here in this paradise, when her real life felt so far away as to be nonexistent.

But, no, that was ridiculous. Foolish, even. Jude’s insanity must be contagious.

She poked him in the ribs and smiled when he grumbled.

“Jude, we need to get moving. I don’t want to be out here after dark.”

Cracking open one eyelid, he glanced around. “Aw, fuck. You’re right.” He stretched, yawned. “Hot, mind-blowing sex makes me sleepy.”

Libby ignored the flush warming her neck and cheeks. “Will they send someone looking for us if we don’t get back to the rental place soon?”

“Probably. But how about we meet them halfway?” After another contented stretch, he instructed, “Sit up and turn around. Slowly. I’d rather you didn’t dump us with that shark swimming over there.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. “What shark?”

“Ha. Gotcha.”

She slapped his chest. “You’re an idiot, and you’ll pay for that. Now I hear the Jaws theme playing in my head.”

Standing up on the board with an easy grace she envied, he scooped up paddle. “So. You want to give it a try this time?”

“Yes,” she said on impulse. “I’d like that.”

He flashed one of his brilliant grins and held out a hand to help her up. The board wobbled under her feet, but it was quite a bit easier to stand on it than she would have expected. Jude gave her the paddle and with his hands on her waist, turned her around to face forward. His breath whispered over her ear as he explained the basics of how to move the board, sending shivers down her spine. It took a couple tries to get the hang of it, but then they were sailing smoothly forward. The underused muscles in her arms and torso ached with each pull of the paddle, but it was the delicious kind of ache, warm and heady, much like sex with Jude.

“You got it,” he said and nuzzled her earlobe. He still hadn’t removed his hands from her waist, and in that moment, with the sun turning to rust and sinking toward the horizon, the wind tangling her hair and his warm, solid weight pressed to her back…in that moment, she hoped he never let go of her.

More foolishness, she told herself and concentrated on making the board go straight.

Jude Wilde didn’t hang on to anything for long.

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