His features twist. He looks me up and down and shakes his head. "Is that the story you’re going with?"
"It’s not a story," I hiss.
"And I’m not stupid. You haven’t been able to take your eyes off of me since we met."
"Speak for yourself." I curl my fingers into fists. "You saw me and wanted me. You don’t care that I’m your son’s girlfriend. It’s why you agreed to having me as your executive assistant. And why you insist on having my desk in your room in the office. You want to make it almost impossible for the two of us to spend any time apart. We’re together almost the entire day. It’s no wonder we’re attracted to each other."
"So, you think I’m to blame for the chemistry between us?" he growls.
"Aren’t you?"
He holds up his hands. "Grow up." He spins around and walks toward the door.
What the—?I leap forward. "Don’t you dare walk away from me, JJ."
"I’ll do what I want, when I want. And one more thing..." He glares at me over his shoulder. "Find your own way to the office tomorrow."
17
JJ
I stare out the window of my bedroom at the lights of the city in the distance.
I’d walked into their room to make sure she was okay. I shouldn’t have entered it, but I was on my way back from the pool, and I should've walked past their floor but my steps had slowed.
I only wanted to make sure Isaac was back. At least, that’s what I told myself. And maybe I should’ve knocked first. I stood outside the partially open door with my hand raised to knock, and I heard a sound. Heard what seemed like a moan, and my imagination had filled in the gaps. Was he in there... fucking her? Was she on her own... masturbating? I wanted—no, I needed—to find out for myself. If it meant I went straight into stalker territory with that, so be it. I entered the room and found her pressed up against the window with her hand down her panties, the movements unmistakable. Shewasmasturbating. She’d been watching me and masturbating.
Fuck!All the blood drained to my groin at once. As I watched, her actions grew frantic. Her entire body shook. She wiggled her hips, squeezed her thighs together—thighs clad in those minuscule sleep shorts. Did she wear those to mess with my head? Then she moaned my name. Goddamn, she moanedmyname, then her entire body stiffened, and she came. She took another minute to find her equilibrium, then she brought her fingers to her lips and sucked on them, and fuck me, but I had almost come right then. The sweetness of how she would taste filled my mouth, a band tightened around my chest, and it took all of my self-control not to pull her fingers out of her mouth and put them in mine. I could barely breathe, and that’s when she turned.
Her gaze clashed with mine, and I saw the guilty look in her eyes. Oh, she denied that she’d been jerking off to images of me, but I’d heard her say my name and seen the evidence in how she flinched when she saw me. And when she called me by my first name, I almost threw her over my shoulder and stalked out of there, and… It was wrong. It’s all wrong. She was right when she said I’d maneuvered things so we’d spent the entire working day in close proximity to each other. Maybe I hadn’t overtly planned it. After all, the position of my EA was supposed to go to my son... Only she took his place. And she’s the one who offered to take the role. I didn’t force her to work for me, but yes, subconsciously I knew exactly what it meant.
I knew we’d be spending a lot of time with each other. I felt the attraction flare between us the moment our eyes connected, and did nothing to mitigate it. She’s right. I didn’t care that she's my son’s girlfriend. Didn’t care that this would hurt him. Didn’t care that she was less than half my age. Not that that would have stopped me, in all honesty. It’s the fact that she belongs to my son that makes this scenario a bitch. I have to walk away from her. Have to find a way to limit our interactions. If I have any hope of forging a relationship with my son, I have to nip this—whatever it is between us—in the bud.
I push away from the window and walk into my bathroom to take another cold shower.
The next day I head to work on my own, leaving at the crack of dawn. I have her desk moved to a cubicle on a different floor with the rest of my marketing team. I convey all of my messages to her via email, and through my personal assistant. And when I return home, I keep to my study and my bedroom, making sure not to pause on their floor. I manage to avoid her, which also means I don’t see my son. I know he leaves home every day to shoot photographs as inspiration for his paintings, and since he refuses to use the studio on the top floor of my house, I’ve made sure he has access to a studio on the other side of town. If that means he’s away from the house most of the day and late into the night... Well, that’s not my problem, is it?
I have also taken to working late in the office. Most days, I send my assistant out to get me lunch and make sure I’m out of the office for lunch appointments so I don’t have to seeher. And when I wrap up work late at night, I head home, swim my fifty laps, and then fall into bed exhausted. I manage to make it through three entire days without allowing myself to see her. On the fourth day, my business meeting finishes earlier than expected, so I reach home sooner than planned.
Thunder rumbles outside. It’s going to rain soon, so instead of using the pool, I head for the gym. I put in my time at the rowing machine, then begin to work out with my weights. Chest press, arm extensions, ab roller, then the bench press. By the time I’m done, my muscles burn, and my entire body is covered with sweat. Wiping my forehead with a towel, I walk up the stairs and toward my room. The entire house is quiet. Isaac isn’t home yet. I know this because I have eyes on him. Only because I needed to ensure my son is fulfilling his commitment. That’s the only reason I have men following him. Anyway, I know he’s still at work in his studio.
I also knowshe’seaten and gone to bed because Miriam messaged me to confirm before she left for the evening. It’s only the two of us here. Alone. My footsteps slow as I pass their floor.Keep going, don’t stop.I force myself to put one foot in front of the other. ‘Force’ being the imperative word. Goddamn, my feet feel like they are weighed down by anchors. I pause with my foot on the step above. Lightning flashes through the window on the landing. It seems to illuminate the path to their room.Oh, fuck it, who am I kidding? I am just going to peek in and make sure she’s okay.And while Craig and Miriam give me regular updates on her, I haven’t spoken to her or checked in on her at all. I’d be failing in my duties as host if I didn’t at least ask her how she’s doing, right? I won't stay for more than a minute. That’s it. Peek in, make sure everything’s fine, then leave. That’s it. In and out. Yep, it will all be okay. I pad toward their door, then push it open.
The curtains are pulled back, and another flash of lightning illuminates the room. I spot her sprawled out under the covers. Her thick auburn hair flows out over the pillows. Her arm is flung out, reaching toward the empty side of the bed.His side of the bed.Where Isaac would be laying, before he reached out to her and hauled her close then kissed her, touched her, sucked on the curve where her neck meets her shoulders. He’d squeeze her plump tits, before he shoved her thighs apart and positioned himself against her opening and—pain slices up my arm. I glance down to find I’ve curled my fingers into the palm of my hand and squeezed with enough force to break the skin. I rub my palm against my gym shorts, then step inside the room. I toe off my sneakers and socks, drop my towel to the floor, then pad over to stand over her. On the bedstand next to her is a pile of books, many of them annotated. Why hadn’t she told me that she likes to read?
Thunder rumbles again, and she stirs. I jerk my attention back to her face. Her eyelids flutter and she sighs, then throws off her covers. I hold my breath until she stills. Glance down to find her fingers are inside her sleep shorts.Jesus, fuck!The movements of her fingers make it clear she’s fucking herself. Again. She squeezes her thighs together, wriggles her hips, trying to get more friction against her clit. I’m instantly hard. I squeeze my fingers into fists as I watch her shoving her digits inside herself. She turns to face me, and I freeze. Her eyelids stay closed, her lips part, and she brings her free arm up to dig it into the pillow beside her. Her movements grow more frantic. I grit my teeth and force myself not to move. Force myself to watch as she continues to ride her fingers. A moan bleeds from her lips and something inside me snaps.
I round the bed, slide in next to her. I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug gently. She sighs, then her arm goes slack. I pull her fingers out from between her legs, and raise them to my mouth. I wrap my lips around her digits and lick off her cum. Sweetness, the taste of strawberries and honey, rolls over my palate. A groan wells up and I swallow it back. My cock thickens even more, and the crotch of my shorts tightens. I place her arm across her stomach, then slide my fingers under the waistband of her shorts and between her pussy lips. She’s so damn wet. I circle her clit; she inhales. I glance at her face to find her eyelids shut. I slip my fingers across her slit and she parts her thighs. I ease my finger inside her wet opening, and her pussy clenches down on my digit. So tight, so fucking hot. I ease my finger in and out of her. In and out. She wriggles her hips. I add another finger and a third, then begin to thrust them in and out of her. Each time I push them in, her moisture coats my fingers; each time I pull them out, she chases my digits with her cunt. She juts out her bottom and presses her cheeks into the hard column in my pants. I keep my gaze on her face, noting the flush that steals across her cheeks.
"Isaac," she mumbles.
I freeze. Anger twists my guts. My heart begins to thud in my chest. I’m in Isaac's bed, with my fingers inside his girlfriend’s pussy, about to make her come, and God help me... I’m not sorry. I’ve never in my life been so attracted to a woman. Not Isaac's mother, not any of the other women I’ve slept with. I’ve never wanted a woman so much, I’m willing to risk one of the most important things in my life—the relationship with my son—over it. A relationship I haven’t done enough to salvage, a relationship that is most certainly doomed after my actions now, a relationship I do value.I do… and yet, I can’t stop myself from continuing to finger fuck her. From increasing the pace of my movements as I shove my fingers in and out of her. As I twist my fingers inside her and hit that spot deep inside of her. As she moans, then throws her arm up and around my neck and turns her head so her lips meet mine.
And what do I do? I kiss her. I slide my lips over hers once, twice. When she opens her mouth, I slide my tongue inside and dance it over hers. I suck on her essence, swallow down that honey and strawberry taste of hers and commit it to memory, so I’ll always have it in me, a part of me from now on. I continue to plunge my fingers in and out of her, push down the pad of my thumb into the nub of her clit, then scissor my fingers inside of her. Her back arches, and a shudder runs down her body. Outside, there’s another flash of lightning, then raindrops patter against the windowpane.
A groan wells up her throat, I swallow it down, and she comes. Her moisture gushes around my fingers, down my wrist. I continue to work my digits in and out of her, slowing the movements as I fuck her through the aftershocks that ripple down her spine. She sighs and slumps against me. I pull out my fingers, kiss her one last time, then ease away from her. She turns her face away from me and into her pillow. Her breathing deepens.
I slide off the bed and straighten, then suck on my fingers. Her taste sinks into my blood and my already hard cock seems to lengthen even further. Sweat beads my shoulders, my chest, and it’s not from my earlier gym session. I head for the doorway, pausing to pick up the towel and my socks and shoes, then slide out and shut the door behind me. I walk up to my room, take a cold shower, and slide into bed. Not that it helps defuse my raging hard-on.