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I pause, and suddenly I realize there are tears twinkling in her eyes. She holds them back, not letting them slide down her cheeks, but they’re there. They’re real.

Just like her hand at the party, mine moves of its own accord. It’s like there are forces inside of us, powerful and all-consuming, which won’t take no for an answer.

I touch her cheek, softly brushing away a tear as it slides down her soft skin.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

Her hand darts up, and presses down on mine. “How you described feeling, just then, it’s how I’ve felt every day since I decided I wanted to be a businesswoman. Even if it’s crazy. Even if it doesn’t suit my personality at all. That desire – to never give up – I guess it just triggered something in me.”

She moves to shift her hand away, but I flip mine and hold onto her, staring meaningfully into her eyes.

“I’m not imagining this, am I?” I ask softly.

She flinches, fear flustering her expression. “I don’t know.”

“You do.” I lean closer, closer, unable to stop now, until I’m within kissing distance, my mouth aching to taste hers. “I’ve been fighting this urge all night, Jessie. I don’t want to take advantage of you—”

“You’re not,” she snaps, showing how feisty she can be when she decides to. “Not if I want it too…”

Her hand drops at the same time as her head, her chest heaving with a large breath, the sort of breath that causes those breasts to shift for me.

“Don’t retreat from me now.” Closer, and closer, and now my lips are a hair's breadth away from hers. “You want it.”

“Yes,” she whimpers.

“I want you,” I growl.

She flinches, looks up, causing our noses to brush.

She giggles, the sound making me chuckle along with her, my whole body feeling lighter, filled with warmth.

She wants it, as badly I do, as hungrily as I do.

“Do you?” she murmurs. “You want me—”

With a gruff growl of affirmation, I crush my lips against hers. She lets out a muffled gasp as our mouths collide, and for a second I wonder if I’ve misread the signs.

But then she softens into the kiss, moaning as our mouths part and our tongues are immediately drawn to each other.

I grip her thigh, squeezing greedily to feel all that tempting fullness. She whimpers and leans closer against me. Her breath comes hot and frenetic through the kiss, as we sink deeper, as her hands nervously wrap around my shoulders.

Groaning, I slide my hand higher, achingly close to the warmth of her sex. I can feel how hot she is down there, how much pleasure she’s already stowed up.

Horny young thing.

Has she been this wet all night?

I’m almost at her sex when a siren blares inside of me.

Not here, not in public.

My woman – the future mother of my children – deserves so much more.

Breaking the kiss off costs me more than I can say. But I know I won’t be able to stop if I keep going for just another second.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, her lipstick smudged from our kiss.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I snarl. “I just need to take you someplace private, someplace it’s just us. I need to be alone, truly alone with you, Jessie.”

“My aunt is out tonight.”

Her voice catches. With lust, with the desire to whip the words back?

“She has two jobs, a night porter and a waitress… and well, anyway, tonight she’s at the porter job.”

“So your apartment is empty.”

I move closer again, kissing the edge of her lips as softly as I can with my cock pushing hard against my zipper, my desire howling.

“Yes.”

She shivers as I give her leg a possessive squeeze.

Smirking, I say, “So what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”

She opens her mouth for a moment, as if she’s going to say something else, but then closes it and nods instead. “Okay, Jaxon. Yeah. Oh, God. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Chapter Eleven

Jessie

What am I doing?

What the heck am I doing?

I almost told him back there, when he offered to come upstairs to the empty apartment. I almost blurted out that I can’t be the woman he wants me to be.

But one kiss with him is not enough.

There’s too much desire inside of me, as though there’s a force deep inside my body – a primal needy thing – telling me none of that matters.

All that matters is being close to my man, tasting him again, giving myself to him so we can start our life together.

And sure, let’s ignore the fact he’d laugh crazily if I told him how much I’m reading into this.

I almost question if this is a trick of some kind, but it’s hard to doubt his craving for me, when he places his hand against the small of my back, guiding me up the stairs. I can feel how badly he wants me through the heat of his touch, simmering against my skin through the fabric of my dress.

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