There are juicy cuts of grilled lobster and bacon tucked among the cheesy macaroni and the crumbs on top glint with a golden substance. I wonder if it’s edible gold…
Jean-Claude hovers a few feet away until I taste the first mouthful.
My eyes widen as the exquisite taste explodes in my mouth. “Oh, my God. This is amazing!” I blush at talking with my mouth full, but he smiles indulgently.
“Bon appetit,” he says, then retreats.
I devour the food in record time and I’m contemplating licking the bowl clean and asking for seconds when the door swings open and Jared strides in.
His eyes zero in on me, and Jean-Claude could be a stick of furniture for all that Jared acknowledges him.
His whole is attention fixed on me as if I’m the only person in the room. Hell, in the whole city.
Immediately something ignites to life in my belly and billows higher the closer he gets.
“Did you enjoy your meal?” he rasps when he reaches me.
Considering the circumstances of my presence in his penthouse, I want to lie and say no, but Jean-Claude is still in the room, and I don’t want to offend him. “Yes. It was wonderful.”
Jared nods, picks up the napkin and dabs the corners of my mouth before holding out his hand to me.
I’m torn again by the puzzling dichotomy of chivalry and Neanderthal he shows me. But since I don’t have much of a choice, I put my hand in his.
My jaw drops when he raises my hand and brushes his lips over my knuckles. His lips are like rich velvet against my skin and my heart jumps in my chest.
He draws me out of the chair and I’m barely standing before he yanks me close, transferring his hands to my waist to drag me against his body.
That sinful mouth swoops down on mine and he’s teasing my lips open, groaning deep in his throat as he boldly tastes me.
I burn on the inside from the fireworks shooting off inside me.
I burn on the outside from knowing that Jean-Claude is in the room, that he’s probably watching his boss devour me like I’m some juicy appetizer.
Curiously, seconds later my self-consciousness evaporates. That magic-slash-panic-slash-excitement is back, raging higher, out of control.
I strain against him when Jared’s hands move to my ass and he grabs my cheeks and squeezes, groaning again as he blatantly dry humps me in front of his staff.
My insides feel like warm goo by the time he raises his head. That direct gaze drills into me as he rubs his nose against mine. “Missed this mouth.”
Before I can find an appropriate response, he’s tugging me out of the room.
“You took my phone,” I accuse when we step out into the hall, trying to ignore the insanely sexy way he moves.
He doesn’t break his stride.
Dammit. This man is an enigma. Just when I think he’s an asshole, he acts the gentleman. And when I think he’s gallant, he drags me around like I’m his slave.
We reach the hallway I recognize leads to my room before he answers. “It was necessary.”
“Well, you didn’t have my permission.”
He stops abruptly and pivots to face me.
His eyes are burning coals, but his hand is gentle, ultra-careful even when he cradles my jaw. “Tell me why you wanted it. Tell me you weren’t going to call your father and tell him where you were.”
“And what’s wrong with that? Wouldn’t you try to get answers if you were in my shoes?”
His nostrils flare. “What’s wrong is that telling him where you were would’ve alerted him and made him burrow deeper into whatever hole he’s crawled into. I can’t risk that happening.”