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Little does he know! I am very well-paid; Jack knows he can’t afford to lose me. But, more than that, I get to stare at Jack-fucking-Grant all day.
Oh, God.
This is hopeless. I scrape my chair back, dropping Andrew’s card back into the drawer and pushing it closed, scooping my bag up and pulling the strap over my shoulder.
‘I’m going out,’ I call as I pass Sophia and Rose. ‘Back soon.’
Sophia waves in acknowledgement. I keep walking, my bare ass making me feel both turned on and self-conscious as I step out into the weather. It’s cold, but I forgot my coat and I don’t really care.
‘Ma’am?’ Hughes straightens from where he’s been leaning beside the limo.
‘Do you just lounge about out here all day, waiting for me to walk past?’ I ask teasingly. I know how busy he is.
‘Better than watching paint dry. You can actually walk in those things?’
He nods down at my Louboutins with a smile on his lips. They’re two-inch spike heels and, yes, I’m very, very good in heels.
‘I could run a marathon in them,’ I say, and wink. My hair is in a ponytail today and the wind blows past, flicking it against my cheek.
‘Well, save yourself the effort today.’ He reaches for the door handle. ‘Where to?’
I look at him blankly. It’s a fair question; one to which I have no answer. ‘I’m just going to go for a walk,’ I explain. ‘I need a coffee.’
‘A coffee?’ His look is one of sardonic amusement. ‘You mean that spaceship’s stopped working?’
I shake my head. The high-end pod machine Jack’s had installed makes great coffee and we both know it. ‘Okay, you caught me. I want a pain au chocolat.’
‘Really?’ He grins, arching a brow. ‘A weakness for patisserie goods...interesting.’
I shrug. ‘Certain days,’ I say in explanation.
‘Say no more.’
‘See you soon,’ I say in farewell. Then, as an afterthought, ‘Need anything?’
‘No, ma’am.’
* * *
So, I’ve banged her against a door in the conference room of my home office and against a window of my boardroom in the City. And while my sister-in-law was waiting in the car for me, too.
Jesus.
The Gemma Conundrum is getting out of hand. I woke up this morning knowing I had to apologise for yesterday, to tell her I’d regretted having sex with her the second we were done. That it had been a colossal, asshole mistake.
And then she walked away from me and I panicked.
Apparently Gemma only listens when I’m inside her.
So? What? I’m going to have sex with her any time we disagree? Any time she gets annoyed?
Amber laughs at something and I smile, but my mind is on Gemma and the promise I made her—that I’d collect on my IOU later today. The thought of not doing so makes some part of me want to shrivel up. So I accept the inevitable. We’re going to fuck again.
My cock tightens instantly, straining against the fabric of my pants. Is she still naked beneath her dress, waiting for me? Wanting me?
I sip my wine, and say something in response to Amber’s question—I’m amazed that any part of my brain is ticking on as normal, absorbing what’s being said and answering in kind, even while most of me is absorbed by the question of my assistant.
I love sex. I love it because it lets me forget about Lucy and what I no longer have. But Gemma is different—because I can’t just fuck her and walk away for good. I have to see her every morning—and what if she starts to want more from me than I can possibly give?
