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I let his comment hang, thinking that I’ll let us slip into an awkward silence that will kill this banter or whatever the heck this is.

But then Yasmin leans forward with a spark in her eyes I recognize well. It’s the same one she gets when an idea for a YouTube video or a particularly good Instagram post comes to her. It’s the spark that has seen her go from a few hundred followers to a few thousand and now almost a million.

“Dad, are you going to be doing your charity work now that you’re home?”

Jamie nods. “The self-defense stuff? Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Well …”

Her eyes shift between her father and me, and then back again, her grin getting wider as she silently implores us to get what she’s hinting at. She sighs and throws her hands up.

“Are you two really that dense? Dad, you’ve always talked about how martial arts builds self-confidence, how it makes you feel less afraid and all that stuff, right?”

“Oh,” I say when I realize what she’s saying.

Is the universe playing some sort of twisted trick on me right now?

Is my best friend really suggesting that I spend one on one time with her dad?

But then of course she has no reason to suspect that I’ve crushed mega hard on Jamie Jensen for years. She doesn’t know that even now my body is pulsating and singing with desire.

“Oh as in yes? Or oh as in no?” Yasmin laughs.

“I’m sure Jamie is too busy,” I murmur, my mouth suddenly way too dry.

“Well, Dad?” Yasmin says, like the most devious matchmaker in the universe.

But there’s no way she knows what she’s doing, the strings she’s tugging inside of me, the hidden world she’s awakening.

“I could help you, Jade,” he says, turning that irresistible gaze onto me. “Martial arts have always kept me centered and focused. I’m not saying I’ll be able to train you to become some badass killer in the cage in a few weeks. But I can help.”

I swallow a big ball of nerves, moving my gaze between the two Jensens.

I know I should say no, even if the chances of anything happening between us are so slim they’re basically nonexistent.

And yet my body sings at the prospect of spending some private time with Jamie Jensen.

“Okay,” I murmur. “Yeah, I think that could be good.”

“Excellent,” Jamie growls. “I’ll have my secretary fit you in sometime in the next few days.”

Fire winged butterflies dance in my belly, my sex giving an insistent pulse and something deeper screaming at me in victory.

For a crazy second, I think it’s my womb, my body giving me messages to throw myself at this man and beg for him to push himself inside of me, to fill me with his burning seed, to give me my first child.

Stop. Being. Crazy.

I scream the words in my mind, but the feeling persists, swimming all around me as I turn to my plate and try to focus on my meal.

Chapter Four

Jamie

“What the fuck am I doing?” I growl at my reflection.

I stand in my personal gym in the Alignment Industries tower, staring at the grizzled bastard in the mirror. My jaw is tight and my eyes are hard, the same no-bullshit expression I’ve mastered for decades of business meetings.

But I can’t deny the way my heart pounds in my chest, a heavy drumming that hasn’t stopped since I had dinner with Yasmin and Jade a few nights ago.

Ever since then, Jade’s luxurious curves and her cute-as-fuck smile haven’t left me alone. Every time I close my eyes, she’s there, sitting at the dinner table with her breasts just roaring at me to grab and please them.

I loved watching her eat that steak, adding to those healthy and mind-numbing curves, my manhood throbbing under the table as she dabbed at the droplets sliding down her chin.

I imagined that it was my seed instead, sliding down.

I shake my head and wander around the gym, checking the boxing gloves and the pads, checking that all the water bottles are filled, checking all the mundane things to try and distract myself from the fact that every single instinct inside of me is roaring at me to take this woman and drill into her.

Hard.

Over and over, take her until she’s gasping and begging me to keep going, begging me never to stop.

I turn when there’s a timid knock at the door.

“Yes?” I call.

“It’s me.”

Right away, my manhood shudders and twitches in my shorts. I glance down and see that I’m as rock hard as I feel, a solid cord of tension moving up and down my massive length.

I should’ve worn tighter boxers.

Goddamn, she’s going to be able to see this.

I reach into my shorts and adjust myself, stroking my hand up my hot length and moving it to the side.

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