119
“Do you like working with Wilma?” he finally asks, keeping his eyes steady, nothing in his voice betraying what he might be thinking. I sigh, somehow disappointed in his question, but I don’t know why.
“I guess. It’s not as challenging as working for you, though. Feels more like a vacation.” I giggle as he tries to squeeze my leg in punishment, once again, the atmosphere reverting to old. I bat his hand away, realizing painfully we forget ourselves again so easily. He straightens back up and shakes his head at me with a mock glare, his features relaxing as he sighs and smiles instead. His genuine non-showy real one.
I miss that smile.
“I’ve missed that sound.” His revelation silences me, the ache inside growing bigger, and I try not to look directly at him.
“I’ve missed your grumpy bad moods and overbearing demands,” I reply wittily, trying to shift the deep ache before it consumes me.
“I miss drunk Emma,” he retorts with a cheeky glint in his eye.
I hate that he likes that version of me. A little jealousy seeps in, and I reply without thought, “You would! You were a terrible influence on her.”
Every word he says makes my heart heavier with longing.
He has no idea how much he affects me or how hard this is, sitting here with him.
We’re swerving through traffic, and I can’t help but be impressed with his ability to drive this car in the chaotic New York traffic. Despite the lurches in my stomach every time he hits the gas, I'm relaxed. This car is powerful, getting up to speed so quickly. He’s quiet for a few moments, seemingly thinking, then turns to me with a serious expression.
“Gabrielle will be gone before the end of the week, Emma; I promise. He had no right to lay a hand on you or say anything that made you uncomfortable.” The no-nonsense tone and clear expression remove any traces of lightness from the atmosphere.
“I seem to attract it somehow,” I reply quietly, catching his frown from the corner of my eye, and he sighs heavily.
“Men want what they can never hope to have. You have no idea just how beautiful you are, and it’s part of the allure. You’re vulnerable and young, yet something so unbelievably sexy about you, and you turn heads with zero effort. It’s not an excuse, though. Men like that should be strung up; you deserve far more in life.” His words startle me, and I dart a look at him, catching my breath.
“You think that about me?” I squeak. He’s never said anything like this or told me how I look. I always assumed men looked at me like an easy target who longed to be abused. Like I thought Jake only ever saw me as his mildly attractive assistant and friend.
“You mean, do I think you’re beautiful and sexy, vulnerable and innocent? Yes, I do.” His eyes lock onto mine, my insides sizzling as my face heats with a blush.
Oh, my God. His words seduce me as much as he does. Is this a Carrero line? Is he being genuine? No one has ever told me anything like this before. All I see when I look in a mirror is the shadow of an awkward girl in the body of a cold, plain woman.
He pulls up to another set of lights, the car powering down to a gentle purr.
“I don’t know what to say.” I have no clue how to react to his confessions. I squirm in my seat, my face burning, and I’m overcome with shyness. I let my hair fall forward, concealing me.
“You don’t need to say anything; I’m being honest. Looking like you do doesn’t permit men to behave the way they do. I can’t exactly take the moral high ground, though, can I?” He sighs defeatedly.
Our eyes meet quickly. I flush as the memory of him making love to me floods my mind. I turn away quickly, emotions hitting me hard in the stomach, knowing that night will haunt me forever and continuously break my heart.
Crap, yes, he could! That night was consensual, and I wanted him just as much as he wanted me. I still want him!
“You’re nothing like the rest,” I breathe morosely.
“I wish I felt like I wasn’t,” he mumbles, barely audible, eyes forward like he’s ashamed.
I have no words. Does he believe he forced me? Does he think he’s done what other men have done to me and forced himself upon me? How can he think that?
We kissed more than once, long before that night in the hotel, and I kissed him back. I clung to him with a fever so hot it almost consumed me.
“I wanted it. Please don’t ever say that again,” I mutter softly, laying a hand on his leg without thinking about what’s appropriate. Our eyes lock, heat building in the small confines of the car, and tension sparks almost instantly. I want him to kiss me so badly that I can practically taste it. His lips part, and his pupils instantly dilate as though I have flicked a switch, and I want to throw myself across the car into him, my body responding insanely fast. Shivers are taking over.
How the hell did this start?
He snaps his head away, looks around, and throws the car into a right turn which shunts me in my seat. Luckily, I’m restrained by my seat belt. He steers us down an alleyway into unlit darkness. Then, we slam to a halt with a roar and a lurch forward. He jumps out, leaving me bewildered and shocked as he comes around and yanks open my door.
Confused and dazed, I stare at him as he unclips my belt and hauls me from my seat, taking me with him and then pushing me against the front fender of the car. He crushes his mouth into mine, knocking the wind out of me with the sheer unexpectedness of this. My hands wrap around his neck instinctively as his fingers tangle in my hair, his other hand swinging around my back to haul us together. My ass grinds against the cold metal as his body pushes hard into mine, kissing me with fevered abandon. We groan in unison. Our mouths mold perfectly, and our tongues meet in rhythm. Effortlessly matched movements ignite my fire. I love kissing him; he makes it feel like the easiest thing in the world, and all thoughts of what we’re doing fly off in abandonment. This is what I have longed for.
His hands slide down under my butt to cup my upper thighs. He hoists me up, and my legs wrap around his waist, my skirt seam ripping violently up the back as I gasp against his lips. He slides my body up the sleek hood of the car, so I’m sitting on it, our heads at the same height for once. My insides are spiraling out of control, heated, and sizzling; my heart is pounding erratically, almost jumping through my chest as I self-implode with desire.
His kiss deepens passionately; our tongues caress erotically. And here we are, kissing as though we’ve always been meant to do this. Hot and fire-fueled, consumed only with how it feels. I want to fall into this and never wake up. I want to be devoured by him endlessly. This is everything I’ve needed to heal my heart; all the pain melts away, replaced with a hunger and a sense of completion as I cling to him desperately, sliding my arms around his neck.
I am hauled hard against the growing desire in his pants, making me burn inside. My body clenches with heat as his hands squeeze my butt. He pulls me into his groin fully.
I need him. I want this more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.
My hand trails down his front, skirting his carved abdomen shamelessly to pull his shirt up so I can feel his naked, taut skin. My fingers crawl under the thin material greedily, along the trickle of hair, down toward his waistband and throbbing muscle. He groans, pushing against me firmly as one hand slides up my inner thigh until his thumb comes to the lace edge of my panties. I thrust my pelvis forward, aching for him to keep going as his thumb traces over the outside of the material, over my femininity, sending tingles and waves of pleasure through me. I groan in ecstasy.
God …
Peeling me off the car and lifting me, he walks with my body wrapped around him fiercely, mouths still connected. I feel the cool air around my naked legs and underwear; one of my shoes falls off, hitting the ground with a clatter, but I don’t care. His mouth pleasures mine as he maneuvers me, sitting me on something hard and sloping, laying me back as he slides forward on top of me, his mouth moving to my neck. His warm breath causes a million sensations to flow through me as I grapple my arms out to stop myself from sliding down. I realize I’m on the hood of his car, sheathed in darkness under the edge of a fire escape. His groin comes to meet mine, stopping me from sliding further, and pushes against me, a hard thrust as we collide. Dizzying lust soars through me before his hand finds me again.
I push my fingers into his hair, hungrily arching my body to him. He rips my lace underwear off with one swift tug, leaving a burning sensual pain across my skin that drives me crazy. I squeak in surprise, moaning as his hand moves back to tease me into submission, exploring my warm depths deliciously, tracing me out. I writhe around under his expert touch, savoring the weight of his body over me. His hand explores me, teases me, and stimulates my body; I’m more than ready to lose all control and surrender to him. I’m soaring, my heart lifting at his attention, my emotions reeling with mounting happiness as he slides his fingers across my slick depths, and I gasp at the contact.
Suddenly, his eyes snap open with awareness, and he stops unexpectedly, pulling his fingers away, leaving us both breathing heavily. His eyes focus on mine, and his expression changes from heavy fiery lust to sudden ice-cold blankness. He pulls my hands from his erection, grabs my wrists, and harshly pins them to the car by my head. His expression is so angry suddenly, and his glare is so frosty; it makes me catch my breath, cooling my body as though he’s thrown me in ice.
“This is why I made you leave, Emma. This shit that I do to you! This shit we do to each other!” he rasps, then lets me go, pulling away, so I slip down unexpectedly on the smooth surface with a squeal. He catches me and slides me to my feet almost aggressively. Missing one stiletto, I stumble against him and grab his arms for support, somehow angering him. He picks me up like a child and marches me around the car wordlessly, harshly depositing me into my seat. He retrieves my shoe and briskly hands it to me before slamming the door shut, almost in my face.
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