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“That’s why I keep you around.”
I agreed with a hum as I took his cock between my lips. Above me, he leaned his hands back on his desk.
“If this is your way of apologizing, I think I might pick a fight more often.”
I swirled my tongue around the tip before taking over with my hand so I could stare up at him. When he traced his thumb along my bottom lip, I nipped at it. “This is my way of saying I know how hard it is for you to move out of your rigid comfort zone. Thank you for bending for me.”
He let out a mix of a choked laugh and a moan as I licked back up his length before sliding him into my mouth.
“You look so pretty on your knees like this,” he murmured, and I preened at the praise.
I didn’t like to give up my power, obviously, and Jason knew that, which was why I felt so emboldened even in this position, because he gazed down at me with such respect and emotion. I wanted to show him in whatever way I could that he meant the world to me.
As if he could read my mind, he said, “I’d bend over backward if it made you happy.” Then I wrapped my hands around the backs of his legs, and he let his head drop to his shoulders. “Christ…Gem…” With a few long pulls and a little scrape of my teeth, I soon felt his thighs bunching under my fingers. He breathed harshly, biting out, “I’m gonna come.”
And when I didn’t stop, he gathered all of my hair in one of his hands to watch me swallow his orgasm. It wasn’t particularly my favorite thing to do, and he knew that, but I wanted to do this for him. Not just kneel for him, but show him how I could give, not just take. I could bend for him, too.
After I wiped the corner of my mouth, I blinked up to find him smiling adoringly down at me. “Gemma, I…” He yanked me up from the carpet by my elbow and held me against his chest so I could hear his heartbeat in his chest. “Gem, I lo—”
I interrupted him with a kiss. The first time either one of us saidthosewords to the other, it wasn’t going to be in his office with rug burn on my knees. “I like you too.”
He snorted a chuckle and stepped away to put himself to rights. “How am I supposed to work after that?”
I lifted one innocent shoulder and backed up to the door, unlocking it. “I’m sure you’ll pull it together for your meeting.”
“Shit. My meeting! I’m gonna be late.” He scrambled to grab his laptop and folders and stuck a pen behind his ear before shepherding me out of his office with a smack on my ass. He ran ahead of me, down the hall. “Stop laughing, Gemma. It’s your fault!”
I only laughed louder.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Jason
Friday night, I opened Gemma’s apartment door with an annoyed shake of my head. I called her name over Jack Johnson blaring from somewhere, and when she didn’t answer, I found her in the bedroom, dancing while she braided a few strands of her hair like a crown around the top of her head.
I propped myself against the doorframe, appreciating the entertainment her lithe body provided. When the song changed, I gave her a round of applause, and she spotted me in the mirror, not at all startled by my sudden presence. “Creep, hanging out like that, lurking in corners.”
“You’re lucky it’s me and not some ax murderer. Your front door is unlocked.”
She sashayed up to me, dragging a finger down my pectoral muscle, her fingernail scraping along my checkered blue dress shirt. “I am lucky.” Then she flicked at my navy tie, purposely skewing the clip. “This color really brings out your eyes.”
I fixed the clip back in place then smoothed down my tie. “Thank you, but you should lock the door.” I held on to her arms, forcing her to look at me. “Seriously. Anybody could have barged in here.”
“I left it open for you.” She leaned up to kiss me. “There’s only you.”
The balloon in my chest inflated with her words,only you. If it weren’t for her holding my hand to spin underneath my arm, I might have floated away.
There was only Gemma.
Whirling away from me so her dress floated around her, she held up her hands. “What do you think?”
The dress was somehow both loose and sexy, with long sleeves and a slit up the side of the skirt. Although the pattern reminded me of something that belonged on a kitchen tablecloth with polka dots and flowers, she could’ve been wearing a burlap sack and I’d still think she was the most beautiful person on earth. “I think you look like a rich woman who went to the mountains for a weekend nature retreat. She did it for the ’gram.”
She cracked up. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”
“I figured.”
When we arrived at the art museum, Gemma led the way, rattling off the name of almost every painting housed there. The party was on the second floor, in a large reception hall where the pieces to be auctioned off were exhibited. There must have been well over two hundred people in attendance, and Gemma snagged a glass of champagne from a passing server as a tall man—even taller than me—greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. With his receding hairline and wrinkled forehead, I pegged the him at about the same age as Frank.
