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“You really are mine, Flick,” he says in a voice that breathes new life into my body before he crushes his mouth to mine.
You really are mine.
I’ve heard a lot of sexy words fall from that man’s mouth—and he’s told me before that I belong to me—but nothing compared to the way he said it in my apartment. It was vulnerable, stripped down and raw. Somehow, Jackson Cade had not only claimed my body but he’d captured my heart.
His words are still playing in my head four days later when I’m at work. I’m in the middle of my shift when his fancy gift—the safe for work one—vibrates in the front pocket of my apron. I know it’s him because he’s the only one with this number, and I smile like an idiot while I check the message.
4:34 PM: We’re having a retirement party for the vice-CFO tonight at The Brighton. Since you’ll already be there, I want you to come with me.
Jabbing my tongue in my cheek, I lean against the table I was wiping down. I type and retype my reply a few times before I settle on a simple message that I know will inspire one of those low growls that always make my sex tighten and pulse with desire: Are you asking or telling me? He responds a few seconds later, and my laugh draws attention from Ziggy and Sabrina—who’d decided to finally come into work.
4:35 PM: I’m asking you to come to the party. I’m telling you you’re going to come one way or another. Happy, Little Flick?
Clenching my thighs, I bob my head as I type my message to him. What time?
4:36 PM: Eight. Wear white. And for fuck’s sake, Flick, wear panties. I’ll have to bend you over the open bar and fuck you where you stand if you come around me without panties again.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Brooke asks, bumping my hip with hers as she walks by carrying a tray of drinks. “I’d swear you have a new boyfriend, but I haven’t seen any available men around here.” She pivots on the heels of her tennis shoes to give me a wink. “Well, not many.”
She knows. It’s so obvious she knows what Jackson and I were doing that day in my father’s office. And the scariest part is, I don’t really care anymore who figures it out.
Just like the hotel, the retirement party for Brad Gustafson is an upscale affair. In my white dress I’d picked up from one of those teen-centric stores at the mall, and Wendy’s floral pumps, I feel like an imposter. Thankfully, Jackson is attentive, keeping an overprotective hand on the small of my back most of the night as he introduces me to his employees. By the time he has to excuse himself to speak to one of his business partners, I’ve managed to relax slightly. I sit at a table with Nate Boyer, Jackson’s head of security, laughing at his stories about their time in boarding school.
Though this bald, giant of a man probably knows everything about me from my blood type to my last meal to the fact I wouldn’t be here if Jackson hadn’t bid a small fortune on me, I can’t help but like him. He’s funny and fiercely loyal to Jackson.
“You know, I’ve never seen him look so happy,” he points out, and we both turn our heads in Jax’s direction. Like always, I’m struck by how goddamn gorgeous he is, and my chest constricts when he grins at me. “Ever,” Nate adds.
“Did his … did Jessica make him happy?” Nate spins toward me, his brow shooting up.
“He told you about Jessica?” He lets out a low whistle. “Fuck, he never talks about that greedy bitch.”
“We ran into her and Alexander at a restaurant.” Jackson’s friend winces and grasps his chest like he’s just been wounded.
“She didn’t make him happy, but she made him a hell of a lot more pissed off when she moved in on his dad after he gave her the boot.” I nod in understanding and Nate shrugs. “I’m sure you can tell I don’t like her.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know her and—”
“Miss York!” Frowning over the rim of my drink, I turn to look at whoever is calling my name. My scowl quickly relaxes into a smile when I spot Elaine. While I haven’t spoken to her much, I’ve been in his office enough times to know that she takes Jax’s shit with a cheery smile and a calm attitude. I swallow my drink as she slides into an empty seat at our table. “I didn’t realize you’d be here,” she says.
“Jax asked me to come at the last minute, and you know how he is.”
“Out celebrating the big offer, I see,” she says giddily, and my frown returns. Though I hate him knowing about it, it was kind of obvious that Nate would be aware of my auction on V-Bay. I’m not too sure I appreciate the idea of Elaine knowing too. I love being with Jackson—god, I’ve never felt so alive—but I don’t want her to think I’m a gold digger. I don’t want her to see me in the same light as his ex.
