I thought back on how difficult life had been since returning from New York. At the office, at home, I’d felt trapped—like a fly caught in a spider’s elaborate silken web. “This past week—lying to Lea and my dad—it’s been harder than I expected.”
The prospect of choosing between my dad and Jonathan, between smothering my desires or lying and embracing what I wanted, was giving me heartburn.
“Fuck, you’re right.” He leaned back, his deep exhale filling the cab with everything unspoken. “I’m constantly dodging his questions or avoiding him altogether.”
“Same.” I let out a deep sigh. “I feel like the world’s worst daughter.”
Silence filled the cab, but the desire was still there. The need too.
I thought back on how he’d opened up to me tonight. The way we’d connected so seamlessly, and I twisted around to face him, so I was straddling his lap. “How can this feel so right but be so wrong?”
“I don’t know, baby.” He gripped my hips. “I don’t. I keep telling myself to stay away, but—”
“It’s impossible,” I finished for him, and he nodded.
He rested his forehead against mine. “I’ve tried.”
How could I possibly say no? Even if I knew I was setting myself up for heartbreak, I would never turn down an opportunity to be with this man. But I’d also promised myself to speak up, to use my voice. And so even though it was hard, I forced myself to tell him what I wanted. What I needed.
“If we do this, I have a few conditions. While we’re together, we won’t see anyone else.” I didn’t want anyone else, and I hated the idea of him with another woman.
“Agreed,” he answered readily, putting my mind at ease. “And obviously, discretion is key.”
“Obviously,” I said. “And you have to promise not to be a dick.”
His jaw hardened, and I wasn’t sure whether he was pissed off or turned on. At least until his cock nudged my center. “When did I act like a dick?”
“Um—” I glared at him. “Most of last week.”
He bent forward, peeling my neckline aside so he could kiss the area he’d revealed. I sighed, goose bumps breaking out along my skin.
“Did you say you want my dick?” he asked, continuing to drive me wild even as I laughed.
“Jonathan,” I chided.
“Yes.” It was said with such conviction, but his eyes were focused on my cleavage. He slid his hands up my rib cage, teasing the bottoms of my breasts, testing their weight.
“Jonathan,” I said in a more stern tone.
He snapped his head up to meet my gaze. “Yes?”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples and making me lose my train of thought. “And, yes. I promise not to be a dick. But just to be clear, this is only for the summer. So, if you can’t handle that—”
“I can handle it.” I would handle it. “Can you?”
“Yes.” He nodded, his expression solemn. I wanted to know what he was thinking. Was he dreading the end of the summer as much as I was?
I maneuvered off his lap. “I need to grab a few things at home, and then I’ll meet you at your place.” I finally found my underwear and held them up victoriously.
Jonathan snatched them out of my hand and fingered the delicate lace material. “Mine.” His eyes darkened and stayed locked on mine as he slid my underwear in his suit pocket.
I shook my head with a laugh as we both finished making ourselves presentable. “You’re crazy.”
“And it’s all your fault.” He leaned in for a quick kiss, and he seemed so much more relaxed now. Was it just the sex, or had he made peace with our relationship? If you could even call it that.
“Just come straight over. You don’t need any clothes. Not for what I have planned.” His wicked grin made my body hum with promise.
