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There’s nothing specific, just a series of images—Jacob’s arms bulging against the seams of his T-shirt. His touch on my legs, my ass, and my hips.
As the orgasm gets closer, I feelhishand against my sex. These aren’t my fingers stroking, but his. He’s owning my sex, rubbing with force, staring down at me with determination tightening his savage features.
“Come for me, Maddie. You’re so sexy. You make me wild…”
I gasp, the orgasm gripping me. Trembling, I rub my clit as it sears and pulses, and I attempt to hold on to the image, to the impossible idea that Jacobwantsme.
He didn’t offer to help with the interview because he’s a good person and protects his employees. He offered to help because we share a special connection. I know which is more likely, but a woman can dream, right?
I wake earlier than usual, sleep a challenge with the memory of Jacob clinging to me. Mom’s sitting at the small table near the window, munching on some toast. She’s wearing her work gear: the black pencil skirt and the stylish blazer.
I lower my gaze like a criminal as I walk across the room as if she’s called meMichaelaas if she’s somehow learned about my lie. With sleep separating me from the deceit, it seems even crazier that I’d do that. It was a reflex, a panic strategy. Now I have to deal with it.
As I pour myself a mug of coffee, I look across the kitchen divider at Mom. She’s picking at her second slice of toast and staring out the window. The sun has not yet risen, and the streetlamps are still on.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Oh…” She turns, eyes focusing. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I just walked right past you, Mom,” I murmur.
There’s sadness in her smile. It’s a look I recognize well from the times she lost her jobs when I was a kid, scrambling to find a new one. She’d always try to make it seem like it wasn’t a problem.
“I’m sorry, Maddie. Today’s always hard.”
Oh, crap. If there was a prize for the worst daughter of the year, I’d be in the running. This is the anniversary of the day Dad left, just disappeared. The day he left Mom to raise me alone.
I ignore all the Michaela stuff and my meeting with Jacob later and join Mom at the table. Taking her hands, I hold her supportively.
“We’re better off without him.”
She nods. “I know, and he taught me a valuable lesson.”
I wait, and she goes on, “Don’t trust men. You think they want the best for you. You trick yourself into believing all their lies are true, and then, just like that, they’re gone. Remember that, Maddie.Alwaysbe careful with men.”
I wonder what Mom would say if she knew who her words made me think about.
CHAPTERFOUR
Jacob
I ride the elevator down, reflecting on today. It was a miracle I could focus on anything except for Michaela. All last night, she was in my thoughts, dominating them as I tried to convince myself I wasn’t becoming obsessed. Or no,possessedis more accurate.
It’s as if her spirit has swelled inside of me until she’s all that matters. Michaela and her brave journalistic tenacity and her gorgeous hair and a body that would turn any man into a sex-obsessed animal. Except ifany mantouched her, it would be the last thing he did.
Once the doors open, I walk across the lobby. One of my assistants, Veronica, is walking down the sidewalk. I can see her through the floor-to-ceiling windows carrying a brown bag, presumably with coffee or snacks inside. Veronica’s a valuable assistant. She joined after the merger began, so she’s only seen my grumpy side, but she’s reliable and always does good work. Suddenly, she stops and turns. She throws her free hand up and then gestures at somebody…
Michaela appears.MyMichaela.
She looks even more intoxicating in her professional clothes, with tight black trousers outlining her ass. I relived the moment she walked away countless times yesterday, her hips shifting, her ass jiggling ever so slightly, full and hypnotizing. She’s tied her hair up in a no-nonsense ponytail. I’d grab it, use it to turn her face toward mine, and guide our lips closer as she starts to breathe quicker, passionately, getting excited because she knows what’s coming.
Veronica spots me, then touches Michaela on the arm. I meet them in the lobby past the turnstiles. It’s clear they want to speak to me, but why together?
“Sir,” Veronica says, looking anywhere but into my eyes as usual. I wonder if she’s scared of me. Or is it something else?
My business partner, Brad, often talks about how women in the office refer to me. They call me all the words men find flattering—handsomeandhotandhunk. None of it means a thing. There’s only one woman whose attraction I care about. She’s standing next to Veronica, clutching her hands together as if she’s going to receive a detention.
“Veronica,” I say, nodding.
