154
“I don’t want to go to LA,” I utter quietly. He moves closer, pressing against my back, his hot body heat warming me, but it doesn’t help my internal chills.
“I don’t want this to become something we fight about.” He runs his finger down the back of my neck, sending shivers through every part of me. Planting a soft kiss between my shoulder blades before bringing his mouth back to the nape of my neck, he pushes my head to one side and traces his lips across my jaw. I know what he’s trying to do, seduction as a distraction.
I'm afraid I’m well-versed in all the Carrero tricks. I see through this.
“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to sit about a hotel waiting while you and she do whatever,” I sigh heavily. I want to stay in my little ignorant bubble, pretending Marissa and this baby don’t exist for a while longer. When the child is born, it’ll be a part of our lives for eternity; for now, I want the bliss of the two of us with no outside disruptions. Later, when it’s here, I can accept and get used to the new dynamics it will bring to our lives, but for now, I don’t have to like it.
“I told you, Emma, she doesn’t get to keep you out; you’ll be at the meeting too.” His voice is determined.
I spin on my heel so suddenly that he almost loses his balance.
“No!” I snap, “I don’t want to go! I don’t want to be part of that or see her and you in the same place.” Emotion fills me, and I try to turn away again, suddenly ashamed of my violent outburst. I don’t want him to see just how insecure and jealous I can be. I’m embarrassed by my uncontrolled reaction.
“Bambina? Emma? Hey!” He gently grabs my face and hauls me back, pulling me against him as fresh tears roll down my cheeks. “Okay … okay,” he soothes, “I’m sorry. I just figured keeping you involved was the best way. I don’t want to upset you, Bella.” He kisses me softly on the mouth, trying to soothe away my distress. He nibbles my lower lip, playfully trying to bring my mood back and quell my tears; it works a little, and I begin to relax again, sighing away the stupid emotions and wiping a hand across my already wet face. The gesture is pointless as every part of me is sodden; Jake runs a thumb across my cheek with the same poor success.
Crying in the shower makes so much sense.
“I’ll miss you while I’m gone,” he says, smiling softly and bringing our foreheads together, the water from the shower still trickling over his hair and causing rivulets to run down his cheek onto my breasts in an almost mesmerizing pattern.
“We haven’t slept apart since you told me you loved me,” I whisper shyly.
“It’s been intentional.” He gazes at my mouth, a finger coming up to trace my lips slowly. “Don’t clam up on me, dolcezza. We should be talking about this.” He sees my expression tighten and backs off, my external bristle and cold mask connecting. Our eyes meet, and I catch his indulgent frown. “Okay, but we will talk about this at some point. The baby coming is inevitable. I know your instinct is to shut down and blank it, but I’m not going to let you, not over this.” The stubborn set to his jaw and raised eyebrow tell me he means it.
I turn back around, so I don’t have to be interrogated by those eyes. Tilting my head back, the water begins to rinse the leftover suds away from my hair. I try my best to make it clear that I’m done talking about this. He takes a slow, steady breath, readying himself to say something else, and I cut in first.
“Just not today,” I mutter quietly, relaxing when his hands smooth over my hair to free it from the shampoo residue.
He kisses my head and carries on, washing my shoulders and back. Jake knows me, maybe not every inner thought, but he’s learned enough about me to see when the wall has gone back up. The old Jake would have gotten pissy and tried to push, but the new and improved Jake knows when to let the battle simmer. I know it won’t last; his impatient, overbearing self will win over, and he’ll push me again, and by then, I hope to God I can get my head around this enough to talk.
“Stay home with me today; let’s not go to work. If I have to leave you tonight, I want us to do something besides sitting in two rooms stressing over paperwork all day.” His hands slowly move down my arms, his body close enough to send tiny shivers but not touching me. His height towers over me, his wide frame making me feel small, dainty, and suddenly very vulnerable.
“You can’t just take days off to stay in bed with your girlfriend,” I say, turning and wrapping myself in him, pushing away the sudden, fragile emotional vibe I’m feeling. “Since I came back, workaholic Carrero seems to have run away.” He kneads my shoulders, so I tilt my head to the side, closing my eyes and enjoying how it feels.
“Well, if we’d stayed on the boat, we wouldn’t even be back by now, so I think I’m entitled to take a day off. Besides, I was focused on my job because I had nothing else worthy of attention. I now have you.” He tucks me back under his chin so he can wrap his arms around me tightly, his hands wandering down my breasts teasingly.
“You had me before.” I push back against him playfully, my butt molding into his groin.
“Hence why I made you work every waking hour and then some. Had to find ways to be around your sexy little self almost constantly.” His husky voice is right next to my ear, sending tingles through me. “It’s easy to be a workaholic when your PA is all you can focus on night and day, and she’s most definitely a slave driver.” His lips come to my throat as he traces my jaw from behind, slowly, achingly good. Jake has moves. I’ll give him that. He knows how to seduce.
“So, I must be slacking then if now you’re so lax about work that you’re pulling constant sickies.” I shove him off, giggling, batting his hands as they try to grope at me. Wrapping his arms around me, he lifts me off my feet and squeezes me tightly, knocking the wind out of my sails.
With his mouth at my ear, he whispers, “Nope, you just got easy and let me do things I’d only fantasized about.” He drops me on my feet, turning me to him before bending down and scooping me up in a swift move so I’m straddling him, my arms coming around his neck and my legs gripping his waist, back in the same position as when he made love to me in here earlier. He kisses me on the mouth as his elbow pushes the lever on the wall to cut the water off. He carries me out of the cubicle, lifting towels from the heated rail with one hand. Sliding me to my feet again, he wraps a towel around me like you would a child. I pull it in, the warmth enveloping me as I watch him wrap one around his waist. He lifts another to dry his upper torso and then his hair, stopping to come and rub my hair a little brusquely.
“You’re so romantic,” I giggle, enjoying his lazy smile and the glint in his green eyes; he’s amused, a good turn in our conversation, away from her.
“Soooo?” He pulls me close using the towel around my neck so we’re nose to nose. “Stay home or go to work?”
I hesitate. It feels so wrong to choose not to go to work. It goes against all of PA Emma’s ethics and principles; that version of me lives for her job. Girlfriend Emma is already thinking about getting back in bed and curling up in those tanned, tattooed arms against his wide, muscular chest. I sigh with the effort of the decision.
“Times up!” He grins, bending down to scoop me up again and marching me back to the bedroom, where he throws me unceremoniously down on the bed so that I bounce and lose my grip on the towel. I squeal as he dives on top of me, yanking the towels away and pinning my arms up beside my head, his mouth tilting in to devour my neck. I try to fight him off, but he’s relentless, pinning me down with his arms and legs until I can’t move, nibbling, biting, and tickling me. I can’t help laughing like a child.
I’m finally so exhausted from giggling and fighting that I stop trying. He leans over me, looking utterly devastating, his hair ruffled and messy, his elated face more shadowy due to not shaving, muscles taut and straining because of the way he’s holding himself up. He’s carved perfection of ripples and lines that puts most magazine models to shame, and I can’t believe it’s all mine. I almost self-combust from longing, my body reacting instantly. My lips part, my eyes get heavy as we gaze at one another, and our expressions turn hot and serious immediately.
He leans down, planting a quick kiss on my lips, then slides down the bed so his mouth trails down my abdomen. I giggle at the feather-light touch tickling me. His hands come to my thighs, sliding down slowly as he pulls my legs up to either side, pushing my knees outwards, so I’m completely splayed out in front of him. I gasp in surprise, feeling a little vulnerable in this position, and catch his wolfish grin and naughty glint as I gaze down at him. He looks unbelievably young like this.
He bites his bottom lip and quirks his eyebrows before yanking me down the bed a bit further, making me yelp in surprise, bringing my pelvis underneath his face, my arms still stretched above my head.
He’s in dominant mode again, his most comfortable persona when it comes to sex. I’ve never had to initiate much sex-related fun with him; he’s always in control and ready to possess me. It makes him exciting and primal. It also removes my insecurities about being too inexperienced with someone like him, not knowing how to behave or what to do to satisfy him. It’s never an issue as he always takes control of me effortlessly, guiding me, never making me feel like I have no clue what to do. It’s because I trust him.
He dips his head, so I see only dark hair and strong shoulders from my viewpoint, my body arching as his mouth connects with my femininity.
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