The Bet by Max Monroe

Sophie

Two months ago, if you would’ve told me I’d agree to go on a last-minute trip to an unknown destination with a man I’ve been having secret-rendezvous sex with, I would’ve told you that you were psychotic.

But here I am. On a freaking private jet with Jude Winslow, heading for god only knows where.

My standing appointment with Dr. Winters earlier today was one of the catalysts for me saying yes. I told her the gist of what’s been happening with Jude and me—minus all the panty-stealing and illegal sex in public places—and when I mentioned that he asked me to go on a trip with him, she tossed her normal therapist’s open-ended questions my way until I admitted the truth—that I really wanted to go.

Now, though, I’m wondering if maybe my therapist has lost her ever-loving mind.

I mean, rearranging my work calendar and rescheduling two meetings so that Jude can take me to the unknown to get my rocks off for a few days?

Like, this whole thing is pretty out there.

Goodness, if Julie only knew that my supposed last-minute trip to Miami to see my parents was actually a trip with Mr. Sexy Good Time, she’d have a stroke. Especially since she doesn’t even know about Jude. In fact, my sisters don’t even know about him.

I’m just spinning this giant web of lies, and somewhere along the line, it’s probably going to catch up with me. Hopefully, Belle won’t have a shit fit over the next few days when I vaguely have to tell her I’m busy when she asks to grab lunch or something. Or, you know, talk to Julie and blow the lid right off my can of deceit.

Sheesh. Am I making a big mistake right now?

I stare out the window as the plane drifts higher into the dark night sky and try to wrap my head around all the crazy things I’ve been doing since I met Jude. All the secrets I’ve been keeping from my family and friends.

All the damn lies I’ve been telling them to keep said secrets.

Yeah, but don’t forget about all the excitement. Or the wild sex. Or the orgasms.

I can honestly say I can’t remember the last time in my life where I’ve felt free enough to just give in to my wants and desires. Where I’ve felt this uninhibited to feel what I want to feel. To do what I want to do. And to say what I want to say.

Jude might just be a guy I’m having fun with, but he makes me feel more like me when I’m with him. He quiets my tendencies to obsess over the future and overthink minute details that probably shouldn’t matter.

I pull my eyes away from the window and look right at the good-time devil himself. He sits in a cushy leather captain’s chair directly across from mine, and his body just vibrates this playful confidence.

Dressed in jeans and a collared white shirt, his style is more relaxed for the flight, but there’s no denying he looks good. Then again, Jude always looks good.

“So…” he says, grabbing my attention. “What kind of panties did you bring for my collection?”

“Oh my God.” A very unladylike snort jolts from my nose. “Did something happen to you as a kid? Were you in the Boy Scouts or something and had to collect stuff for badges? Is that where this obsession stems from?”

“I steal your panties because I know it turns you on,” Jude answers through an amused chuckle. “Actually, it turns us both on.”

I don’t know why those words threaten to do exactly what he said they do, but yeah, I have to shift a little in my seat.

“And I was never in the Boy Scouts,” he adds. “But now, that’s got me wondering. Were you in the Girl Scouts? Because I’d love to see you at my front door in one of those outfits, trying to sell me your cookies.”

“Why do I get the sense that cookies is code for something else?”

He waggles his brows. “Because it is.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but no, I was never in the Girl Scouts,” I answer honestly. “Although, I wanted to be.”

He quirks a questioning brow. “Parents didn’t let you?”

“My twin sister Belle didn’t let me.”

“Now, that, you’re going to have to explain.”

“Well,” I say through a soft exhale of air. “Belle was always a bit shy growing up, and in elementary school, we tended to stick together. Her by my side because I was good at doing all the talking for both of us. And me by her side because I felt like I had to protect her, I guess.”

“I take it she wasn’t a fan of being a member of the Brownies?”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “She wanted to play soccer instead, but she didn’t want to play by herself.”

“So, you never got to sell any cookies?”

“Or wear the sash and get all those badges.”

“Ah. I see.” A big smile consumes his lips. “That was the draw for you. The badges.”

I widen my eyes and nod. “The Girl Scouts were like an awesome secret club. Man, I swear, if only I could go back in time and tell Belle to grow some balls and play on the soccer team by herself, then I could fulfill my Girl Scout dream of having a sash full of those hella cool badges.”

He grins. “Sophie Sage’s one regret in life. Never being a Girl Scout.”

“Ha! Yeah. Well, one of many regrets, I guess.”

“You have that many regrets?”

I search his eyes. “Don’t we all?”

“I don’t,” he answers with the kind of confidence that makes me a little jealous it’s even possible to be that self-assured. “I try not to spend my time regretting shit. And I definitely try not to spend my time doing shit I don’t really want to do. The combination makes it pretty easy to have zero regrets.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t have any regrets? At all?”

He shrugs. “Nothing comes to mind at the moment.”

Good grief.All I can do is stare at him like he has two heads. No regrets? Must be nice. There’re about a million things I’d like to change from my past.

“Jude and Sophie,” the pilot’s voice rasps over the intercom and grabs both of our attention. “I’m happy to update that we are now at cruising altitude. Feel free to take off your seat belts and enjoy the rest of the ride. We’ll be in Vegas before the sun comes up.”

I whip my head back to Jude. “Did he just say Vegas?”

“Shit,” Jude mutters, shutting his eyes for a beat before opening them up again and looking into mine with a guilty smile encompassing his mouth. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?”

“Wait… You’re really taking me to Vegas?”

“I am.”

His answer makes my head want to spin right off my damn neck. “What are we going to do there?”

Not once in my life have I ever been the type of woman who just jets off last minute to a city like Las Vegas. I mean, this is…flipping Vegas we’re talking about here. The city of sex and sin and a place where even hookers are legal!

I’ve never been there, but you’d have to live like a caveman to have never heard someone tell a wild Vegas story. Hell, their whole motto is What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I’m not sure if I should be thrilled or terrified. I mean, Vegas with a man like Jude? It feels like big-time trouble. However, I don’t know if it’s the good kind or the bad kind.

Or maybe it’s a little bit of both…

“We’re going to have a good time, that’s what we’re going to do,” he replies simply like we’re not heading across the country to Las Vegas, but instead, going to feed some damn pigeons in Central Park. “Well, in between the meetings I have scheduled.”

“Wait…this is a work trip?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. You’re not going to be left to your own devices the whole time,” he tells me. “I only have two meetings and, well, the investors that are flying us out there want us to enjoy ourselves. Hell, they’ve been trying to get me to move to Vegas for years so I can do more than just consult for them. Trust me, I’ll be with you ninety-nine percent of the time, experiencing everything this city has to offer.”

My chest feels like a vise around my heart, and one particular question stands out in my mind. Now that I know this is a work trip, I’ve got an entirely different perspective on his job. I don’t know why, but I’d assumed he only worked in New York.

“Would you ever…uh…move to Vegas?”

“Fuck no,” he responds on a scoff. “I’m a New Yorker through and through, babe.”

The breath I didn’t realize I was holding escapes my lungs on a deep but silent exhale.

Almost as if his answer gave me relief. Which is…strange.

“Are you trying to get rid of me or something?” he teases, and I shake my head on a giggle.

“No. Well, not yet, at least.”

“Not yet?” he repeats and places a hand to his chest like he’s in pain. “As in, one day soon, you’ll want to? Damn, Sophie, you wound me.”

“Oh, get over yourself.” I reach out and slap a playful hand onto his thigh. “You and I both know that you’re not about the long-term commitment kind of thing. This, all the fun we’re having together, it will end one day.”

Gah. I know it’s true—that’s why I said it. I just didn’t expect voicing it to feel so uncomfortable.

Jude doesn’t say anything but, instead, searches my eyes for a long moment. I can’t quite figure out what’s rolling through his head, and when he still doesn’t say anything, I have the urge to find some kind of distraction. So, I take it upon myself to get up from my seat and walk around the cabin.

I look at the food and champagne that have been set up for us by the flight attendant named Peggy, who is currently busy in the galley.

I run my fingers across the cream leather seats toward the back of the plane. And when I stop at the end of the small hallway, I peek into a room and find that it’s the bathroom.

But it’s not a typical plane bathroom. It’s a fancy private plane bathroom.

More spacious and modern than I’ve ever witnessed inside a cabin. But that doesn’t mean anything because I’ve only ever experienced the sardine-can–sized bathrooms on commercial flights. You know, the ones where trying to pee feels like you’re auditioning for Cirque du Soleil.

The longer I gawk at the massive shower and spacious sink, the more my mind is blown.

This is the Taj Mahal of plane bathrooms!

“What are you looking at, babe?” Jude asks from somewhere behind me.

“Uh…have you seen this bathroom? It’s freaking huge!” I call over my shoulder. “I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Give me a phone, Jude, because I need to call Kit and tell her this bathroom is bigger than the Blue Banana!”

“Fan of the bathroom, I take it?” he asks, and I look over my shoulder to find him grinning.

“Who wouldn’t be a fan of this bathroom? Pretty sure there’s a plane full of people on a Delta flight right now who would give up their right kidney to have this bathroom inside their cabin.”

He laughs at that, and I look back inside the spacious room, my mind still reeling that this kind of bathroom is even possible on a freaking plane.

“You know, the Mile High Club never made sense to me,” I comment. “Logistically, I mean. But now, after seeing this bathroom, I get it. Sex in an airplane really is possible if you’re flying on a swanky private jet like this. But those tiny-ass excuses inside commercial ones? I still say you’re just asking for a concussion and a pulled groin muscle.”

Within seconds, Jude is on his feet and all up in my personal space. He grabs me by the hips, pulls us both into the bathroom, and shuts the door with a kick of his heel just as he gently pushes my back against the wall. “Lift up your sexy little skirt and take off your panties, babe.”

“Excuse me?” I question, but also, a panting little breath slips past my lips.

Jude doesn’t falter. Doesn’t hesitate. His blue eyes blaze as he stares down at me and repeats his demand. “Take…off…your…panties. I’m going to give you a banana you can call Kit about.”

It’s almost sad how quickly I obey, a grin drifting over my face at the cuteness of his joke.

But…this is Jude. And while I might never see these panties again, I know I’ll at least be getting an earth-shattering orgasm as a trade-off.