My thoughts come to a stop at the same time as my car.
Somehow I’ve driven all the way back to my apartment, into the underground garage, without really being conscious of any of it. But that’s not saying anything new where my Jessie is concerned.
Ever since the meeting in my office, it’s been the same, a mental clock ticking as I count down the seconds until I get to see her again, be with her again.
Closing my eyes, I force my breathing to come slowly.
I have to remember that she’s feeling none of this.
Even if she’s attracted to me – even if the age gap and my position as her boss doesn’t bother her – the chances of her wanting a sudden family, a readymade future are practically zero.
So I have to be careful on our date, especially when I see her in whatever dress the stylist has chosen for her. Whatever it is, I know it’s going to drive me even crazier, making me want to tear it off, rip her clothes savagely and throw her down onto my bed.
Fuck, fuck.
My blood is pumping as though it’s fueled by a giant furnace, my cock pushing so damn hard against my pants. I imagine her in the passenger seat, envisioning myself reaching over and grabbing onto those childbearing hips.
Guiding her onto my lap, claiming those kissable shy lips, and growling as I push myself against her.
She’d be so damn wet, I’d be able to feel it through the fabric of her clothes, a soaked sassy little vixen getting ready to come out of her shell, getting ready to meet me in an eruption of lust.
My balls ache with the pressure, my seed sending me opposing signals. One half of me wants to run upstairs and yank my cock hard, jerk up and down until I’m shooting hot streams of come everywhere. But another part knows I have to wait for my woman, my Jessie.
Climbing from the car, I remind myself it’s not long now. Soon, she’ll be on my arm, her fretful hand squeezing down through the fabric of my suit.
As I walk toward the elevator, I wonder if I should take a limo like Carmen and I normally do, or if I should drive her myself. If I drive her, that means we’ll get more alone time, more time to explore our relationship.
More time to kiss her, to grab her, to let her know exactly who she belongs to.
I chuckle as I ride the elevator up, shaking my head.
Wasn’t I just telling myself not to tell her about my crazy need to claim her on the first goddamn date?
Wasn’t I just telling myself that would make her run for the hills?
But then again, I’m only a man, not a machine. I don’t have superhuman willpower. When I’m alone in the car with Jessie, it’s going to be absurdly difficult to keep my hands off her, to keep all this hunger locked inside of me.
The doors open onto my apartment and I tell myself I’m not going to think about Jessie for the rest of the night.
“Yeah.” I laugh grimly under my breath. “Good luck with that.”
Chapter Seven
One week later
Jessie
“Oh my, this is so exciting.”
Aunt Claire stands in the doorway of my bedroom, her hands clasped together with a big smile on her face.
I wish I could take some of her optimism and happiness and steal it for myself. Ever since the meeting in Jaxon’s office, my mind has been a battleground of indecision, one half of me screaming to cancel, to do whatever the heck I can to get out of this… and the other telling me I have to do this.
Not just for my career. But for myself too. It’s time to stop running.
Now I stand in the middle of my bedroom, the stylist – a friendly lady named Janet, with a no-nonsense attitude who flurries around me like I’m a mannequin – fixes the last touches on my hair.
“You look incredible, Jessie,” Aunt Claire says. “I have to get a picture. I’ve never seen you look so glamorous.”
Her words do funny things to my insides, as a voice whispers maybe this is what it will take to get Jaxon to be as attracted to me as I am to him. But caution warns me to beat back that notion.
I haven’t even seen myself yet. Janet wants to do a big reveal when she’s done. But whatever I look like, I can’t let myself fantasize about Jaxon freaking Walker wanting me romantically, or sexually, or anything even remotely like that.
This is a business arrangement, nothing more. Carmen is testing me. There’s nothing romantic about this at all.
Except for the stirring deep inside of me, the tingling in my belly, the way my thoughts keep coming back to Jaxon and his stark eyes and his massive body and the dream of his hot breath whispering over my skin, like a promise – a promise of all the things he’s going to do to me.