What I don’t expect is Jaxon’s deep voice to come from the speaker.
“It’s me,” he says. “Jaxon.”
“Yes, I know.”
It’s the voice which has whispered in my dreams every second of every day since we saw each other, the voice that’s told me in my crazy fantasies that he’s going to fuck me, fuck me hard, take me despite my shyness, despite me not having a freaking clue what I’m doing.
“Well.” He chuckles. “I’m ready when you are.”
“I’ll be down in a sec.”
My heart drums as I step away from the intercom, a thin layer of sweat coating my skin, sticking to my upper lip, and threatening to turn into a stream.
“Hey, hey.” Claire steps over to me, putting her hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
I try for a grin, but it feels more like a twisted joke across my face. “Nothing.”
She narrows her eyes. “Do you really think you can lie to me?”
“It’s just… What the heck am I doing? Everyone there is going to be rich and glamorous and not me. You know?”
“No, I don’t know. I do not know.” Her voice is firm, her grip firmer. “You’re a beautiful, funny, charismatic young woman. I just wish you could see that. So you’re a little nervous. That’s life, Jessie.”
I nod, but it’s difficult to hear her words past the screaming anxiety in my mind.
“Let me ask you something,” she says. “If you canceled, would you feel good about the decision? Or would you regret it?”
“Regret it,” I say quickly. “Yes, I definitely regret it. But what if I make a complete fool of myself?”
“You won’t. And if you do, fine, it won’t be the end of the world. Just focus on one step at a time.”
“You’re right.” I suck in a bolstering breath. “And step one is going down there and getting in the car.”
Claire smiles. “Exactly. Nothing hard about that, is there?”
I nod in agreement, even if it’s a freaking lie.
Sitting next to Jaxon Walker – maybe even close enough to touch – is going to be the hardest part of all of this, as I fight the desire to reach out and grab onto his hard muscled body.
As I fight the desire to tell him about all these crazy thoughts spiraling through my head.
Of the future, of a family, my womb tingling and teasing.
One step at a time, I remind myself, reaching for the door handle.
Chapter Eight
Jaxon
I lean against my sleek black sedan, staring across the street at the shithole my woman calls home. I wasn’t born into wealth and I spent most of my childhood in places like this, and normally I withhold judgment.
But it’s a completely different story when it’s my woman we’re talking about. When it’s my woman who is forced to live here.
All I can think about is that she deserves better, so, so much better.
She deserves a palace, a mansion, a whole island if that’s what she wants. But instead, she’s living on the grimy side of town, her apartment building covered in graffiti, and all I can think about is how goddam unfair it is.
Then the door opens and Jessie steps into the night.
I gasp and bolt up away from the car, my chest hammering at the sight of her.
She’s wearing a sleek silky dark dress, the area around her neck just low enough to show a hint of tantalizing cleavage, her hair a shiny mass of chocolate wavy locks. The fabric of the dress clings alluringly to her curves as she walks toward me on short nude heels, just tall enough to shape her calves and flood my manhood with even more urgency.
When she stops just short of me, an uncertain smile touching her red kiss-me lips, it takes everything I have not to grab her and take her mouth.
And fuck, I can just imagine slowly dragging my hand up her thigh, letting her feel every little movement, tingles, and vibration possessing her fertile young body.
But that would mean risking other people laying eyes on my woman. That’s something I will never, fucking never let happen, not when she looks so god damned gorgeous.
“I thought you’d send a driver,” she murmurs.
I smirk as I walk around to the passenger side, opening the door for her and gesturing her inside. “I like to handle certain matters personally.”
It’s a weak-ass excuse, but it’s not as though I can tell her the truth.
I want to be alone with you. I want to breathe in your scent, your perfume, the just-you smell that tells me your body is as hungry as mine to start a family, to clash together, to create a future.
Stilling those ludicrous thoughts, I bite down as she moves past me, into the passenger side seat. Her breath comes in cute little puffs of air as if she’s struggling to contain herself.