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“No, he skipped town.”
My fists clench at the same time as my jaw. It feels like I’m in the gym, smashing the heavy bag, pumping the weights until my muscles ache and throb.
“You can’t go to this interview alone,” I say.
“What? Why? It’s a great follow-up piece.”
“You’re right. It is, but what if it’s a trick? What if the man who supposedly skipped town shows up for revenge?”
I don’t know this woman’s last name. I’ve spent less time with her than my female colleagues, assistants, and PR managers, yet I care more about her than anybody else. The idea of her charging into a dangerous situation… I can’t allow it.
“I’ll come with you,” I tell her. “Meet me here tomorrow around six p.m. I should be free then.”
“You’d really do that?”
“Of course.” I force irony into my tone, so she doesn’t sense the fullness of my desire. “Then you’ve got the motivation to write about what an incredible employer I am.”
She laughs, her eyes shining with affection. I know I shouldn’t read too much into a laugh, into a look, especially considering she’s my employee and probably just wants to smooth things along with her the boss, but that doesn’t stop me from savoring the sound, the wideness of her smile. It doesn’t stop me from savoringher.
“So tomorrow, what, out front at six?” she says, voice all trembly as if she still finds me intimidating.
“See you then,” I reply.
She turns and walks away. I can’t stop myself from staring at her ass imprisoned in those sweatpants. I can’t stop myself from envisioning my hands on her pants, pulling them down, and revealing her round, juicy cheeks inch by tempting inch.
Once she’s gone, I sit heavily, feeling like I’ve just run ten miles. My chest won’t stop thumping.
The future won’t stop calling to me.
CHAPTERTHREE
Madison
Sleep is difficult that night as I roll over, the sheets clinging to me.
I did what Mom asked, got the memory drive, and stopped her from getting into trouble, but something else happened as I stood beneath Jacob, feeling spotlighted under his intense stare. He was looking at me, at least during the start of our brief conversation, as if he was ready to drag me into his arms, kiss me possessively, glide his hands down to my hips, and…
Andwhat?
He doesn’t know who I am. Why did I have to give him a fake name?
Toward the end… fine, we laughed. He even offered to help me with the interview, which I’ve been worried about. He offered to help Michaela, though, not Madison.
I shouldn’t have agreed. It was a silly thing to do, yet I’m thinking of doing something even sillier. Once my shift is over at the restaurant tomorrow, I’m thinking of driving back to Jacob’s office and waiting out front like he said. I’ll have to tell him the truth about my name eventually, but in the meantime, I feel owned by this swelling feeling.
Logical thinking isn’t my friend right now. I know it will all blow up when he finds out who I really am, but I want to see him. Despite his grumpiness, I made him smile, made him laugh.
I’ll have to hope Mom doesn’t leave the building at six. She normally leaves around six thirty, so I should be okay, but then what?
We go to the interview together as I secretly watch Jacob, letting myself imagine and believe a bunch of ridiculous things. I’ll let myself wish for him to pull me into his lap, grind against me, and let me feel his desire. Or brush his hand tenderly across my cheek, tucking hair behind my ear, gifting me with another quick smile.
“We’re not just doing the interview together,”he’ll whisper, passion in his husky voice.“We’re doing everything together…”
The memory gets too loud, his muscles pressing against his T-shirt, revealing the outline of his solid pecs. I’m sure I could see his abs pushing as well, a hard mass of them. As I close my eyes and will sleep to come, I imagine my fingernails bending against his muscles as I scratch against him.
My hand slides down between my legs to my sex. I’ve touched myself thinking about Jacob before, but only from his photos. Now, I’ve got the heat of his body, his eyes fixed onme, not the camera. He was so close in his office, he could’ve leaped on me.
As my fingers stroke up and down my folds, moving to my clit, I fixate on that idea. Jacob grabbing my hips and pulling me right up against him, growling in his stern voice as his manhood pushes against my belly, both of us rocking in the lust, both of us slaves to it. My hand moves faster, more urgently.
