“No. You’re beautiful, Campbell. Let me see you. All of you.”
The weight of his stare is practically numbing. I’m helpless.
My hands relent, letting the sheet drop back down to my waist. My skin literally buzzes. A delicious, terrifying heat prickles across my chest, down to my belly, forcing me to squeeze my thighs together as it reaches my core. I bite my lip, completely overwhelmed, and bury my face in the pillow to hide my burning cheeks.
Then, like a bucket of ice water, reality rushes back in. The absolute madness of what I did last night—following him home, throwing myself into his arms, shattering every professional boundary I’ve spent weeks building. It all slams into me. Panic and guilt twist in my gut.
I wince, forcing myself to look him in the eyes.
“Jake . . . this can’t happen. We can’t do this.”
I expect him to argue or to get defensive. Instead, he looks entirely relaxed. He waves a hand nonchalantly, his voice completely unfazed. “So go.”
I freeze. The door is right there. My clothes are scattered in the living room, which is also his bedroom. I could leave. But as I look at his broad shoulders, the messy bedhead, and the dangerous pull in his eyes, I realize my body is glued to this mattress. I can’t peel myself away from him.
I deflate against the pillow and whisper, “I don’t want to.”
A devilish smirk inches into his cheeks. He lunges forward, pinning my wrists lightly above my head with one hand and burying his face in the crook of my neck, his other hand digging into my side.
“What did you say?” he demands, tickling me relentlessly.
“Jake! Stop!” I gasp, squirming and giggling as I try to fight him off. It’s no use. He’s so much stronger than I am. Besides, the rush of a morning laugh is stripping away my anxiety. “No, stop it!” I giggle.
“I didn’t hear you, Hines. What’d you say?”
“I don’t want to!” I scream-whisper through my laughter, my heart hammering happily inside my chest. “I don’t want to leave!”
He stops, lingering over me with a triumphant grin. His laughter fades into something much softer, much hungrier, and he drops his mouth to mine. The kiss starts sweet but quickly deepens, full of slow, lazy morning heat. His hand slides down the bare skin of my side, mapping the curve of my waist before stopping at my ass, pulling me flush against him.
Right on cue, a harsh, buzzing vibration echoes from the floor.
My phone.
The spell shatters. I jet up to a sitting position, my eyes wide. I scramble out of the bed, entirely unconcerned with my nakedness, and climb over Jake’s legs to rush to the kitchen area. I scramble through my discarded clothes on the floor until I find my shorts, pulling out the flashing phone.
The blood drains from my face. It feels like all the air has been sucked from the apartment.
Dad.
I miss his first attempt, but I know him all too well. He’ll call back. I’m barely halfway to the bed when the phone buzzes in my hand. I swallow hard, forcing my voice to stabilize as I slide the bar to answer, pulling the sheet around my chest as I sit on the edge of the mattress.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, trying to mask the tremor in my breath.
“Campbell. Just wanted to ring before my morning meetings.” I don’t know why I get a courtroom voice from him when he calls, but it practically echoes through the receiver. “It was nice to see you for lunch yesterday. Maybe we can actually make time for a proper dinner next time I’m in the area.”
“That would be nice.”
I wait for the catch.
“Have you given any more thought to the offer we discussed?” he asks, completely bypassing small talk. Also, absolutely ignoring the firmnoI gave him the first time. “The board is finalizing our Q3 allocations, and I’d like to know if you’re finally ready to join the family business. We have some big things in the pipe, and like I said . . . your skills are made for this. You wouldn’t have to quit PR. You’d just be using it for legal persuasion, so to speak.”
He chuckles, proud of himself. My stomach sinks. I close my eyes, rubbing my temple. A heavy, familiar sigh escapes me.
“Dad . . . you already know my answer.”
“We’ll discuss it later, then,” he says, his tone clipped with disappointment. Also, the words that come out of my mouth hold no value to him whatsoever.
“I have to get to the office, actually, so if we could?—”
