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That, in turn, made her even more infuriated at the man who continued to stare at her.
By simply doing his job, Jay had somehow planted a seed in her mind that Skylar wasn’t sure she’d be able to dig out. That seed would sprout and grow and weave its way through her every thought, and soon it would be all she could think about . . .
How much she’d come to hate the man she loved.
Rex failed me.
Of all moments for that realization to hit, this was the moment her subconscious picked to show her the truth. As she was in a virtual sex club, about to get fucked by another man.
A filthy hot escort.
Emotions churned inside her, throwing her mind, heart, and soul up, down, and inside out. And Jay still stared.
“Fine,” she snapped out. “Stare all you want.”
“Why, thank you.” Again, that knowing grin.
“Are we going to do this?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the four-poster bed, one foot hooked over the other. Utter insouciance. “In time. Let’s figure a few things out first.”
At this pace, the night would become self-defeating. No way could she come while she felt anger toward Rex and nonchalance from this man. The man she’d imagined she could be fantasizing about for years to come.
This won’t work. This can’t work.
“Figure what things out? Condoms?” she asked. “I’m on the Pill and clean. But regardless of your tests, I—”
Jay suddenly took a step toward her. “Not that. I want to know . . . do you want me to call you ‘baby’ and hold your hand while I thrust my big cock inside you?” He continued to watch her with those seemingly uninterested eyes.
Skylar’s blood boiled, and her nails pressed painfully into her palms. She was about to push past him and head downstairs. Demand Rex get them an Uber. But for a moment, she caught something else in his gaze— it was there and then gone in the blink of an eye, but she knew what she saw— desire.
Suddenly, she was reliving that first moment when they’d noticed one another, and she’d felt the heat between them.
There was something real between them.
Jay wanted her.
He wanted to fuck her.
Kiss her. Fondle her. Go down on her, even.
And this want she saw in him . . . it was more than just physical. There was something open in his eyes. Something not quite vulnerable but truthful. He’d let down his guard with her yet again. She dropped her gaze and noticed the way his heavy cock filled his tuxedo trousers. He’d been hiding his desire for her behind a wall of self-control. Perhaps it was professionalism that had him hiding his want for her. But it was there.
He wants me. He absolutely wants me.
She seized onto a hint of control. Of power. The feelings sent heat to her pussy and made her nipples tingle, and unwittingly she moaned.
Jay seemed to sense the change in her. His head tilted to the side, and he assessed her for several long seconds. “Fuck,” he murmured under his breath, the word meant for him, not for her. His nostrils flared, and he opened his mouth to breathe. “If we’re past all the boring niceties now,” he said between gritted teeth, “I’m going to strip you naked.”
Skylar worked to regain control as she attempted to mimic his earlier insouciance with a shrug. “I don’t care what you do.”
A dark chuckle escaped his lips as he stepped closer. “I don’t believe you,” he whispered. He shifted behind her and placed his fingers at the zipper of her dress, and she visibly shuddered. His fingers paused, and his lips were at her ear. “And even if I had believed you then, I wouldn’t now.”
She could feel the heat of his touch. Could smell the whiskey on his breath. Could almost hear the beat of his heart. And she could also feel herself getting swept underwater, could sense she was losing control. She wanted to turn around, curse him out, then march straight out of the room. But her feet wouldn’t move. Her body wouldn’t sway away from his. Instead, the only motion in her body was a small quiver that snaked down her arms . . . her legs . . . her back. Because she knew the truth, and it scared her.
She wanted to stay. And she definitely cared if he stripped her naked. She needed him to do it. To remove her dress and bare her to his view. She needed him to caress her. To fuck her. To break her into a thousand pieces and then put her back together so she was someone she hadn’t been in a long time, despite how she’d tried to convince herself otherwise.
Whole.
