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I didn’t expect to have to share a bedroom with him.
I didn’t expect to have to travel to work with him every day.
And I didn’t expect he’d insist on keeping up the pretense of being in love when Bill isn’t around.
That kiss we shared yesterday has played over and over in my mind. I’m attracted to Jameson whether I want to be or not, and it’s proving difficult to be around him so much. Especially at night.
Separate bedrooms would give us space to recharge alone after our busy days. To withdraw from the other and regroup, because goodness knows I need to regroup. Jameson has me on high alert at all times and I’m finding it difficult without that downtime by myself at night.
I resolve to find the right time to bring this up with him and revisit his decision for us to sleep together. Now is not the right time. Not after last night. I’ll see how tonight goes and then perhaps talk with him when we get home. And I’ll use today to build my case to present to him.
We arrive at my office and have a replay of yesterday morning.
Jameson comes around to my side of the car and helps me out. He then closes my door and says, “Adeline,” in his deep voice as I take a few steps away from him.
I stop and meet his gaze. “I’m not in the mood this morning, Jameson.”
His eyes flash with that never-ending supply of impatience he seems to have for me. “Find the mood,” he says, his voice rumbly and extremely dictatorial.
Without giving me time to even begin trying to do that, he closes the distance between us and invades me.
With his arm around my waist, he pulls my body close and bends his face to mine. His kiss this morning starts out slow. He doesn’t put much effort into it. This lulls me into a false sense of security that we’re not going all out today in our show for the world.
He ends the kiss much faster than he did yesterday, however something stops him as he pulls away.
His eyes find mine, searching them, and his hand tightens its hold on my waist.
I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I feel him.
God, do I feel him.
It begins low in my stomach.
A spark that quickly spreads throughout my body.
My skin feels warm.
My head feels light.
My heart makes itself known more than it ever has.
It beats fast and hard, and I-don’t-even-know-what’s-occurring-right-now.
We stand on the sidewalk like this for what feels like forever.
I flounder under the assault of my senses.
I wish I understood my responses to this man, but I understand nothing.
Not one thing I’ve done since he proposed this marriage makes any sense to me.
“Fuck,” he growls, and for the first time, I know exactly what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.
I want to get closer to him. Have his hands all over me. His mouth on mine. Our limbs tangled.
And as much as I really don’t want any of that, I’m helpless but to stop myself from moving into him at the exact moment he moves into me.
I grip his suit jacket while he slides his hand into my hair.
