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I doubled down, trying my best to remain focused on the women and see who I worked best with as a team. The light sandwiches and salads were a nice touch with the weather being so warm, and the never-ending bottles of champagne went down all too easily.
By the end of the date, I was proud of myself for trying harder than I had so far to get to know the women, but I still didn’t feel much of a connection with any of them. That was becoming a problem, and I didn’t know what to do about it. How was I supposed to choose a woman to be my mate when the only woman I was interested in simply wasn’t an option?
16
JESSICA
Another visit to the gym had been in order after leaving Garrett and the women on the beach with their picnic. It had been a challenge to keep a calm exterior the entire afternoon, which was why I’d made myself scarce, finding excuses to stay busy away from the volleyball games then leaving the rest of the date to the assistants once the picnic had begun.
Seeing Garrett on a date had been harder than I expected after the night we spent in my bed. While I was immensely proud of how the date had come together—a perfect combination of sophistication and fun—and I’d worked my ass off to ensure it was exactly what Garrett wanted, every time I saw him now, all I could think of was the feel of his lips on my body. The way his tongue had known exactly what to do, the mind-blowing orgasms he’d given me…
Stop!I’d thought I’d worked the thoughts out of my head on the treadmill, but apparently not. I sighed as I let myself into my suite, heading straight for the bathroom and running a hot bath. If I couldn’t sweat him out of my system, maybe I could soak him out.
Not very likely. I’d never in my life experienced sex like that. Garrett had consumed me, stirring to life a raging desire that I hadn’t known existed. It had been enough to make me forget myself for our brief time together, but I knew it could never happen again.
A wave of sadness washed over me, but I shoved it away. It didn’t matter if he was a sex god. I couldn’t have him. The guilt was weighing on me so much that I could hardly stand to be around him, irrationally afraid everyone would know exactly what we’d done. And equally afraid that my feelings would be written all over my face.
Just forget about it, I told myself for the hundredth time as I lowered myself into the nearly scalding water. Easier said than done, though. I blew out a breath, sinking down below the water, letting the heat ease my tense muscles. I stayed under as long as I could then settled in for a nice long soak.
I’d let my assistant Amber know I was taking the rest of the night off after I arranged for a clean-up crew to take down the volleyball setup and clear away the picnic. The contestants’ assistants would escort them back to their rooms, and there was nothing else I needed to do. After my bath, I’d request dinner delivered to my room then would settle in with a trashy romance novel to distract me from any thoughts of Garrett. I’d even brought up two bottles of wine from the cellars in case the book wasn’t enough to do the trick.
Once my skin was shriveled and the water lukewarm, I toweled off, pulled on my comfiest sweatpants and a cotton tank, and tied my hair into a messy bun atop my head. Moving into my kitchenette, which was part of the large living area, I poured an oversized glass of wine and settled on the overstuffed sofa for a nice night alone.
I was only a couple of chapters into my book when there was an insistent knock on my door. I paused with my wine glass halfway to my lips, debating if I should pretend not to be here. I had a feeling it was Garrett, and memories of the last time he’d been at my door flooded my mind. I wasn’t sure I could resist him if his intentions were the same.
“You have to resist,” I scolded myself as the knock sounded once again, louder this time. With a sigh, I set my wine and book on the table, then walked slowly toward the door. “Be strong.”
I twisted the knob and yanked the door open, unsurprised to see Garrett standing there. He gave me a once-over that made my skin heat, grinned that charming half-smile of his, and then waltzed right inside without being invited. I shut the door, leaning my head against it with my eyes closed for a moment, willing myself not to give in to him.
I turned, finding him leaning against the little island that separated my kitchenette from the living room, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I have to say, I was the picture-perfect date this evening,” he said, his eyes darting around my living space, pausing on the wine and romance novel.
I made a noncommittal noise and headed back to the couch, pulling my legs up to my chest. “Is that so?”
“Damn right.” He pushed off the island and came over, sitting beside me and casually slinging an arm around my shoulders. The instinct to cuddle up close to him was strong—so strong that I forced myself to stare straight ahead and count slowly to ten.
“I got to know the women well,” he continued. “Asked them all about their lives and tried to see who might make a good council member… or mate. You would have been proud. If you’d been there to see any of it.”
Why did that feel like a punch to the gut when it was exactly what I’d been encouraging him to do?
When I didn’t say anything else, he leaned forward, snagged my wine glass, and took a hefty gulp.
I arched a brow. “Would you like your own glass?”
His rumbling laugh filled the air, making my body clench and pulse without my permission. “I think I want something harder.”
My mind went back to the other night, remembering just how hard he’d been. How big he’d been. How it had felt when I sank down—
I cleared my throat. “I worked pretty damn hard on that date for you tonight. So, tell me more about it.” Hearing about his date with three other women was the last thing I wanted, but what else was I supposed to say? I needed to keep this conversation headed in the right direction.
“While I don’t love the group aspect of these Contention dates, I put in a valiant effort.” He gave me a wink. “Still, it was better than a one-on-one would be.”
He set the wine back down after another gulp and sank back on the couch next to me, putting his arm over my shoulders once more. His fingers brushed my bare arm, sending an involuntary shiver through me.
“Not that you’d know firsthand,” I said wryly, leaning forward to grab my wine glass again. When I sat back, I intentionally put some distance between us, going against every instinct within me. It would be so easy to snuggle in close and see what would happen next.
“You did an excellent job,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. Everything was beautiful, the volleyball games were fun. But you know perfectly well that I don’t want to be doing any of this.” He nudged my shoulder and grinned. “Remember, it’s all your fault.”
