Breathless (61 page)

“I’m thirty-three. I think I’ll manage.”

She studies me for a moment… until all traces of amusement fall from her face. “I’m a whole lot of woman, Jesse. You’ll cave in a second.”

It’s a promise. There’s no uncertainty in her voice, only confidence. After a few quick seconds I lean closer, making sure my intensity matches hers. “Are you fishing for a bet?”

“Maybe… or maybe I want a confession.”

Well, that’s not going to happen. “I’ll give it to you, your confidence is admirable.”

She flicks her eyebrows. “Confidence is key.”

My face lingers close to hers, but not once do her eyes drop to my mouth—not like they did when I caught her in the stairwell. Maybe I don’t have the effect on her I thought I did. For the briefest second, I lose confidence and a victorious grin spreads across Alix’s face.

“See? Confidence makes the difference. When your stare momentarily skittered from mine, you sucked all the heat out of this situation.”

I narrow my eyes. There’s no way she could see that.

“When you look at me, a fire ignites in the pit of my stomach. The longer you look, the longer you talk, the longer you touch; these all stoke the flames. But you’re always thinking, and everyone knows passion doesn’t come from the brain.” A gentle breeze blows a lock of brown hair into her face and she swats it away. “You see, I like a man like you—a man that is everything I both read and dream about. You’re tall and wide and sexy, but you don’t know what to do with it all. I know I’m not much, but I own all of me. I walk around like I’m the fucking Queen Bee and I’m not ashamed of it.”

Oh, joy. More compliments. “And your point is?”

“My point is, it won’t kill you to enjoy at least one thing in your life and it sure as hell won’t kill you to block your thoughts, drop the suit and innocent man act, and take me to the fucking moon and back. Call me names, pull my hair, spank my ass—I don’t care—just do something you’ll enjoy.”

As she finishes her sentence, all I can think about is her sweet breath as it caresses my face, quick and certain. I hadn’t realized I’d leaned in so far. I’m close enough to flick out my tongue and lick her bottom lip. With a sharp inhale, she swallows the distance between us, forcing her lips to crash with mine. I push myself roughly onto her, careful not to drop the bulk of my weight onto her frame. Curvaceous or not, women still have small bones.

With my knees, I force her thighs apart and immediately, I feel her flex her hips into mine as she moans once into my mouth. All rational thoughts fade away as my current existence begins to revolve around her. In this moment, as my mouth consumes hers, I couldn’t care less about my father—about my job. All I want is to do something I enjoy… and I enjoy Alix very much. I become so wrapped up in her and the way her body moulds perfectly against mine, I don’t recognize my own hand as it curls around the hem of her tank top and bra. I yank on the fabric until her generous bust pours out an inch from my face. Then, I pull my mouth from hers. Another breeze blows and her nipple hardens to its maximum point as her skin erupts with goose bumps. I pause momentarily, knowing very well that this is wrong. To do such a thing in public is unacceptable and even though a warning floats around the front of my skull, flashing its lights, I can’t find the rational urge to stop myself. Despite my better judgment—a judgment that has kept me out of trouble my entire life—I close the distance between her nipple and my mouth. With a sharp inhale, her back arches. My blood rushes, making my head spin and my heart pound. Alix’s hands claw at my hips and pull at my shirt. I feel the wind blow against my bare lower back as she tugs on my clothes. What a wonderful feeling it is to completely let go of your surroundings—to be involved in the situation unfolding and not in the details.

Adrenaline courses through me at the thought of getting caught for something so uncharacteristic. I pause, stilling my mouth and tongue against her soft flesh. This is not appropriate behavior for a Vice President of a billion dollar company. This is not appropriate behavior for a boss with thousands of employees worldwide. If we’re caught, and the details leaked… it could ruin me. It could ruin everything my father has worked for.

Alix growls as I let her slip from my mouth. “What is it? Why are you stopping?”

With a small pang of disappointment in a hard place I really don’t want to think about, I roll off her.

“We’re not doing this.” I tell her as I fish my phone from my pocket.

Sand sticks to the screen and I bet it’s filtered in between the cracks too. I try to ignore her as she sighs dramatically and conceals her breast behind her top. I type out a quick text to my personal assistant, Jamie. I don’t think I’ve ever bothered him so late before… then again, I pay him enough not to feel bad about it. Jamie texts back almost immediately, telling me he’ll meet me at the steakhouse in twenty minutes. I slip my phone back into my pocket and sit up.

“My PA, Jamie, is coming to pick us up. He’ll take you home.”

“I don’t want to go home.” She rebuts.

The bitterness in her tone doesn’t pass me by. In fact, it sits rather uncomfortably on my chest. “I’m not leaving you on the beach alone, Alix.”

She shoots me a look—an aggressive look. “Unless you’re going to drag me kicking and screaming all the way back to the steakhouse then yes, you are.”

I set my jaw nice and tight to stop myself from taking her up on her suggestion. It’d be almost too easy to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back, but if that’s not what she wants, fine. She’s not going to get a reaction out of me. I’m a grown ass man and I’m not going to let some… some girl try to make me feel bad. I push myself to my feet.

“You might not have much to lose in the mix of all this, Alix, but I do.”

I turn away from her and head back to the ramp. I kick at the sand as I walk. I’m mad for allowing myself to fall into this mess. I’m mad I let someone like Alix into my head, and I
hate
the fact she has the power to manipulate me into doing things I’m certain I’d never do. How I let one woman with long brown hair, a snarky attitude and no respect for the comfort of others, completely throw me overboard without a paddle, over and over again, is beyond me. One more dinner, one more lunch and one more intimate moment and I’m done. For the sake of my own sanity, I’m done.

Chapter Eight

Alix

The taxi ride home sucks. The driver has his weird techno music up too loud, the air conditioning on too cold, and the seats are too hard. Who listens to techno anymore, anyway? Unfortunately, I didn’t have a great selection of taxis to choose from. You don’t get many of them out here this time of night. Most of them are patrolling the busier parts of the city looking for drunken people to scam.

I rest my head against the window and sigh. I hate myself—not because I let Jesse put my nipple in his mouth—no, that was fun. I hate myself because I didn’t think to bring a book with me. I should have known he’d bail on me and, quite frankly, I’m pissed he took it so far and
then
freaked out. That’s twice now I’ve been disappointed by him.
Twice.

Even as the driver nears my apartment, I replay the moment between Jesse and me, over and over. A stupid idea, really. The more I think the about it, the more dissatisfied I feel.

Although he didn’t say what bothered him, I know exactly what it was. He doesn’t like public displays of ‘affection’. He prefers discretion. It’s his father, his career and his inability to enjoy himself that ruin all of our intimate moments. Despite that—despite his refusal to open up sexually—I still want to try. I could end this any day. I could pleasure myself, get it over and done with and move on (let’s be honest, it’s always better when you do it yourself anyway).

But…

That would be too easy, and as a woman, the easy road is something I mentally tend to bypass. And besides, no great romance can occur if one person takes the easy way out. I tighten my hands into balls against my thighs. Do I think what Jesse and I have is a budding romance? Is that what I want from Jesse now? I ponder the thought of being in a relationship with him and immediately quash it. Not only is he my boss, but he’s much too uptight and prudish for me. Who doesn’t lose their mind in the throes of passion, and who the hell wears a suit to a steakhouse? I don’t care how fancy the place is; denim fabrics and leather boots are always the way to go. Strangely, I find myself smiling at the fact he showed up in a full two piece suit. He looked good—crazy good—like Tom Hardy on your TV every second of every day kind of good. Jesse is something else entirely—a whole new species of male almost. I’ve never met a man that can arouse me and then piss me off all in the same minute.

As thoughts of him, and Tom Hardy, bombard me one after the other, I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together. It turns out, Jesse O’Ryan and Tom Hardy together in my mind is an aphrodisiac not even the damp smell and crap music of this taxi can destroy. It’s then, as my hormones race around my body and pool in places Jesse has yet to touch properly, I decide tonight is
not
over.

The driver pulls up outside my apartment and his chin duplicates as he turns his head in my direction. Before he can tell me how much the trip costs, I demand he keep the taxi running. I unclip my seatbelt and practically dive from the car. I don’t bother closing my door, and head for the stairs instead. As I walk, I can’t help the mischievous smile that pulls at my lips. For the first time ever I can finally say, ‘the night is still young’, and feel as sexy as I’m sure Scarlett Johansson does when she plays
Black Widow
.

***

The Tempt Hotel is quiet, much quieter than it’d been when I was working this morning. I pull on the hood of my black coat to shield more of my face as I make my way through the lobby. I don’t want to risk the security crew
or
the employees seeing me… which is kind of stupid now I think about it. If I don’t want what Jesse and I have to be exposed, then this is the last place I should’ve come. On second thought, no good story starts with following the rules; just ask Rose Hathaway (who has broken more rules than any other heroine). Her story was
epic…
and not as stressful on her sexual organs, I’m sure.

Luckily for me, I learned which room Mr. Jesse O’Ryan was staying in while he was away for a few days. I’m not proud of snooping, but I’m glad I did. Otherwise, I’d be running around like a chicken without a head right about now. With my head down, I manage to make it to an elevator. After I press the button to the penthouse suite, I hide in the corner with my back to the door just in case someone who knows me hitches a ride.

I swallow hard as my heart beats rapidly in my chest. I’ve never been so nervous about anything before. My palms sweat, my stomach churns, and my throat dries. This, whatever I’m doing, is a bad idea. The beach didn’t end on good terms. He probably doesn’t even want to see me right now—not after the attitude I gave him. Then the
real
thoughts kick in.
What if he’s sleeping? What if he has company already?
Not the sexual kind, of course, but someone important? When we first met, he was finishing up at a meeting and that was only slightly earlier than it is now. I contemplate pressing another button, and riding the elevator back down to the first floor until I remember just how much I spent on this underwear set. It’s in blue, too. Outside of this occasion, I know I’ll never wear it again.

Finally, the elevator dings and the doors pull open. I peer over my shoulder at the white double doors at the end of the hall. In all my years of working here, I’ve never ventured this far up. In fact, I rarely go past the lounge bar.

I drag in an unsteady inhale and push forward, despite my legs best efforts to freeze up on me. As I reach the door, I pause and listen. Through the wood, I hear a low murmur. Jesse talks, but there are no responses, or at least none that I can hear, so I knock on the door. It’s too soft for him to hear the first time, but when I knock the second time, I’m certain those two floors down can hear it. I cringe, hoping it didn’t sound too demanding. A few minutes pass and the door opens. I try not to gape as he stands before me in a tight, white tee and the black slacks he wore to dinner. The shirt tightens over his bicep as he holds his cell phone to his ear. His brown eyes are wide, but tired as he surveys my black, hooded coat. All nervousness I felt earlier drains from my body and is replaced by sheer determination.

“Alright. Yes. Look, I’m going to have to call you back.” He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “No, I know it’s important, but something has just come up.” He exhales and steps to the side to let me in. “I’m sure it can wait till morning.”

I slip inside of his suite and again, I try not to gawk at all of the nice stuff. It’s clean too… outstandingly clean. While it looks a lot like the other rooms in the hotel, it’s much bigger and the furniture is much, much more expensive.

“Yes, Peter. I am taking this seriously,” Jesse declares as he shuts the door behind me.

I twirl on the spot, analyzing all of the beautiful things. Beautiful white, stone ornaments adorn shelves on the wall and decorate low set tables. I could never bring such a gorgeous piece of embellishment home. Four loves to jump and walk along small edges. It’d become a not-so-expensive pile of dust on the floor in minutes.

I slip out of my black flats and kick them to the side. The carpet beneath my feet is comfier than any surface I’ve ever stood on. Jesse stalks across the room and into the living room. I follow him and watch as he approaches a sleek corner bar, grabs a bottle that shines like crystal and pours its contents into a small glass. He holds it out to me and I take it. The effects of the wine have long since worn off, so having a little whiskey to take the edge off won’t hurt. I press the cool glass to my lips, open my mouth and pour it down the hatch. The liquid burns my throat, but I don’t stop till it’s all gone. As I hand Jesse the glass and he takes it, his brows furrow.

“Peter,” he says sternly. “I’m going to have to call you back in the morning.” His fingers tighten around my glass and he turns to look out the large window behind the bar. “It’s late. What do you expect me to do right now? The system is offline until the morning.”