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“Dina showed you everything you need to know?” My voice sounded strangled to my ears.
She wrung her hands together, her cheeks flushing and chest starting to heave. “Y-Yes.” Her eyes glazed, and she began to shake.
“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching out for her arm.
Jasmine stumbled backward in her heels and held up a finger as though asking for a minute. She spun and hurried to sit on the chair behind her desk, putting her head between her knees.
What the fuck?I furrowed my brow as I followed her, dick’s excitement flagging from her strange behavior. “Jasmine?”
She held up the same damn finger while attempting to suck down oxygen.
“Asthma?” I asked.
“P-Panic attack,” she gasped out.
My brow shot up. From simply shaking my hand? I knew I had a Midas touch, but goddamn. My ego swelled, but her lowered head and shuddering frame furrowed my brow deeper. I squatted in front of her, taking care to give the woman some distance even though my fingers itched to reach out and comfort her. “Breathe with me, Jasmine.”
Counting, I led her through some lung exercises as I’d done before with subs when they became overcome by anxiety. Her sweet scent flooded through me, and I fought to keep from leaning closer to inhale her exhales.
At least the awkward situation made my dick completely limp, regardless of her close proximity.
“Okay?” I asked, checking in with her after a few minutes.
“Hmm.” She lifted her torso and sat back in her chair, eyes still closed. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” I had no fucking clue why she had.
“I left the payroll on your desk to look over,” she said, her words rushed and breathy.
“Are you okay?” I asked again, making sure she was before grilling her for why she’d reacted to me in such a way.
“Being an Elite pays ten times better than any job I’ve had before,” she rushed on, ignoring my concern, her hands fluttering from one thing to another on the desk. “I’d join the team in a heartbeat if I didn’t have these damn contact issues.”
“Huh?”
Her face reddened. “I…um, shit. I-I didn’t mean to…well. Fine.” She huffed. “I don’t like to be touched.”
“When?”
“Ever.” She finally turned her gaze toward me.
Lust shot through me again at her clear vulnerability. Embarrassment. Innocence.
So. Fucking. Fucked.
“Shaking my hand caused that attack?” I asked quietly, trying to not give off imposing vibes like I’d been told I tended to do.
Jasmine nodded. “I react the same way anytime someone other than my sisters, Mom, or my nephews comes into contact with me.” Shaky laughter jostled her breasts, and I fought not to lower my attention below her nose. “You should have seen me at my doctor checkup last month. It was hellish, and that was with a Xanax in my system.” Another bout of nervous laughter escaped her lips.
I stood and stepped back, allowing her the personal space she would need—fucking always. “Shit. That must really suck.”
Jasmine shrugged but didn’t quite pull off acting nonchalant. “I’m used to it, but yeah. My issues have kept me from experiencing a lot of things in life.” Pink flushed her face in the same way I expected arousal would do.
I scrubbed a hand over my scuff as a low chuckle huffed through my nose. I wanted to ask if she’d ever gotten laid. When she’d last gone out with a guy. Ever been kissed? Held hands?
Talk about a goddamn diamond in the rough. To have such an innocent woman—
Control, Fox. Goddamnit all to hell.
