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Jason slid his hand between them, fingertips circling her clit. Gia tightened and clawed at him, her cunt clamping down. She blinked up and held her breath, silently begging, every muscle braced in anticipation. Then she wailed out her climax. The sound bounced off the tile walls and floors, ringing in his ears. He wanted more of that.
“Come for me, baby. Yes…” he groaned as she sucked him deeper. “So. Fucking. Good.”
As her peak stretched on, unrestrained and beautiful, his spine tingled, his balls tightened. Jason’s self-control broke.
He wanted to be the man who gave her more pleasure than she’d ever known, the person she turned to when she needed someone to laugh with, someone’s hand to hold, someone to share her tears. Whatever it took, whatever energy he had to expend or money he had to burn, he would be that man for her.
With a last long stroke, Jason centered himself entirely on Gia and let go. Her scent filled him. Her flesh surrounded him. His heart beat with hers as he shouted her name in a hoarse groan and gave her everything.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nine Days Later…
Gia padded down the stairs, weak morning sunlight drizzling into the kitchen through the thick clouds. Mid-November had turned a bit cooler, and she curled her arms around herself, huddling in Jason’s T-shirt, wishing she’d donned warmer clothes. Then again, he’d take them off in nothing flat since she didn’t need a stitch in bed.
As she landed in the big open space of the first floor, she found him pacing the great room wearing a pair of sweat shorts. He’d doffed his nylon tank and slung it over one thick shoulder as he pressed the phone to his ear. Even the sight of him made her tingle like a girl in the throes of her first crush.
“I need a report,” he demanded as he stared out the window.
Residual sweat from his workout slicked his wavy hair from his face. The muscles of his back rippled and moved every time he shifted his weight, breathed, or made an angry gesture with his arm, as he did now.
“So you’ve made no progress? That’s not acceptable.” Jason paused. “Time is the one thing I lack, so don’t tell me to be patient. It’s been a week. If you’re not getting results, I expect you to try another tactic.”
He walked to the other end of the room, toward the front door. Gia continued to gawk. His broad shoulders tapered into a lean waist, narrow hips, and muscled legs. The thin fabric of his shorts clung to his incredibly appealing backside. He had an athlete’s body, one he pushed to its full potential nearly every morning in the gym downstairs. Today, he’d added extra cardio, making love to her before his workout until she’d screamed—repeatedly.
“You’re asking me for suggestions? Isn’t this your area of expertise?” Jason opened the front door, and his Wall Street Journal waited there. He bent to retrieve the paper and clenched it in his fist. “Do you need more money?”
The party on the other line said something, and Jason tensed even more.
“All I’m hearing are excuses.” He turned just enough to reveal a chiseled profile and his flush of quiet rage. “I’ve given you more time than I should. I’m cutting you loose and finding someone capable of doing what I’ve asked.”
Her husband conducted business full throttle. She’d been privy to a few of his calls. It shocked her that he spoke fluent Japanese, at least when it came to money management. Whoever he talked to now didn’t quite understand that Jason was used to getting what he wanted and would drive hard until he got it.
That described their relationship. She’d been trying to hold her heart separate from her body, but every night Jason rocketed her to the stars, urging her on and up until she was spent and dizzy. Then he held her close, their hearts beating together, until she wondered if she could separate from him again without crumbling.
For so long, Gia had coped by dealing with only the most pressing issues. Jason, their future, and all the associated problems she’d shoved into a mental compartment marked “later” and locked away. Slowly but surely, Jason pounded at her mental safety barriers like a battering ram. Gia felt perilously close to caving in. The possibility of parting ways with him for good on their anniversary filled Gia with dread.
“No, we’re done,” he insisted, then turned back toward the kitchen. The moment he spotted her, his eyes darkened. “You’re fired.” Jason didn’t wait for a reply. He simply hung up. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” The word came out breathy, and she kicked herself. She sounded almost as lovestruck as she felt. A man like Jason could use her feelings to wring all the sex and devotion from her he desired.
Would giving in be so bad? He no longer seemed to want revenge or simply to bang her out of his system. In fact, the way he talked to and touched her, studied her, and spooned her each night made her wonder if he had something else entirely in mind.
A shiver wracked her, part cold, part desire as she remembered how he’d bent her over the sofa last night to pump her with ferocious strokes of his thick cock as they looked out over the city’s glittering lights. He’d growled in her ear that he craved her—and that she belonged here with him always.
Surrendering wasn’t smart, but her body had flowed with his, her pleasure rolling up to him like the ocean at high tide. And damn it if her heart hadn’t yearned to stop resisting and give in.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
“Yes.” She always did when she curled up beside him. “You?”
Jason smiled faintly. “A few hours. You know me.”
She did. Mentally restless, he always worked on ways to make money grow or plot some business scheme to his advantage. Gia knew damn well his thoughts were hardly limited to commerce and interest rates. Every day he found some new way to engage her until she felt like the most interesting topic he wrapped his thoughts around. When Jason focused on something, he did it with single-minded fervor, and she couldn’t deny how much she loved being the center of his attention.
If she could experience that every single day, it would be a dream come true. Then again, hadn’t hoping for the fairy-tale ending and ignoring reality landed her in this mess?
“I do,” she murmured. “I can make breakfast this morning. What would you like?”
