“She wants me to be my stepfather, not my father.”
Jessie was quiet, so he focused on the feel of her soft, smooth thigh under his hand, memorizing it. His mother would never be satisfied with him. He had come to terms with that long ago. But it didn’t make her disapproval any easier. And if he said no to the CEO position, he’d get a lot more of it, if she didn’t cut him out entirely.
“What do you want to do?” she asked after a while. “I mean, if you got to choose.”
“Run this place, maybe start a new venture here on Hawaii. But beyond that, I’m not sure.”
Lie. He knew something else. He wanted what he and Jessie had right now. He couldn’t even begin to see how to have it, but he wanted it.
Jessie rested her head on his shoulder. “Sounds like you have a lot on your mind. It’s rare that a good business decision lines up perfectly with the ideas of everyone you care about.”
He digested that comment for a moment. “Is that what’s going on with you and your sister? Business and personal isn’t fitting together?”
“Pretty much.” She sighed. “And I can’t figure out if I’m just being a control freak after getting burned last time or if Jillian really is losing her head over her new boyfriend. But either way, it’s hard on our relationship.”
“Sounds like you two are close.”
“We are. And I don’t want that to change.”
“But you don’t want to have to choose between her and MomJobs?”
“No, I don’t. I’m trying as hard as I can to find a solution that works for both of us.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure you won’t quit until you find one.”
She laughed.
Byron slipped his arm around her and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her. The longer he sat with her, the less willing he was to let her go tomorrow. This was exactly what Sheila had cautioned him about, and he hadn’t shown his face at the Kalani office yet, knowing what she’d say. But Jessie was different. This was the exception. It had to be.
Tonight, he would take Jessie to his bed right and make her feel good. And sometime before he left tomorrow, he’d find a way to ask her for more. He glanced down at her red dress, gathered at her thighs, at the long expense of her legs draped over his dress pants, and at her hair, flowing everywhere. Oh, God, he wanted this woman with a force he had never felt before.
He took her plate and set it on the table. Then he wrapped his arms around her.
“Are you interested in a tour of the house?”
“If that’s a euphemism for sex, then yes, please,” she mumbled. “Otherwise, this is nice right here.”
Byron chuckled. “Yes, I did mean sex.”
She looked up at him. “Good.”
He lifted her up, and she protested.
“You don’t have to carry me.”
“Let me,” he whispered, squeezing her tighter. “Let me take care of you.”
She paused and then, finally, nodded. She wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed against him as he carried her through the house. When he put her down, next to his bed, she tilted her head to the side.
“Any fantasies you want me to fulfil?”
“So many,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “But not today.”
Her smile faltered a little. Was she thinking of the suggestion behind those words? That maybe there would be other nights? If she did, she didn’t comment. Instead, slowly, Jessie began to undress. She moved her dress up her thighs, over her hips, and pulled it over her head, her beautiful breasts bouncing, her nipples erect. Then she stood up and slipped her panties down her legs, bending over in front of him to step out of them. She straightened, naked in front of him, and put a hand on her hip.
“Your turn.”
Byron stood up and stripped off his shirt, dress pants and boxers, and let them all fall to the ground around him. He took a step forward, another, then another, until his body was against hers. Her hair was soft against his chest, and he brushed it behind her shoulder.
“I want to worship you,” he whispered. “Let me.”
Her sigh was an answer, as if she was giving in to the ultimate temptation. Please her. Maybe he couldn’t do it forever, but he would try tonight. So he kissed her, his kiss aching with longing and relief, his mouth both hungry and satisfied. There were no answers from her, only questions.
The room was warm, and the ocean breeze blew through the open windows. Jessie shivered as he touched her, goose bumps running down her arm, but he could feel she wasn’t cold. He picked her up and lay her on the bed, kissing a trail down her neck, her breasts, her stomach. He lingered there, taking in each inch of her soft skin, each soft sigh. Everything about her was soft this time. It was as if she was finally letting him look under her hard, protective shell, into her most vulnerable parts. There was nothing, nothing that Byron wanted more than to be the man who saw her this way.
Before she had a chance to pull back, to change her mind, he lowered his mouth to the heaven between her legs. Byron groaned. Fuck, this was the ultimate pleasure, to know that every moan from her mouth was because of him. Never had that urge to please her, please her echoed so urgently. He could give her this, over and over. Maybe she would never need him, not really, and it probably wasn’t even fair of him to want that. But he could make her need him right now.
With a reluctant sigh he pulled back. She gave an impatient moan of protest, amping his lust for her even further, but he didn’t relent. Not this time.
“Don’t worry, e ku’u aloha,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”
E ku’u aloha. My love. The words came straight from the far recesses of his memory, back to when his father called his mother that, even when she was going to leave him. But Jessie probably didn’t know what it meant, and he knew how to distract her in case she asked.
Byron grabbed a condom from his bedside drawer and rolled it on, then climbed up her body so his aligned with hers. It was perfect. She opened her legs and let him settle, with his hard cock between them. She blinked, her eyes full of wonder, as if she was considering what else was between them.
“Be with me.”
She stilled under him as this truth slipped out. What he wanted had no place in this room, but the words were out, floating between them, and he couldn’t take them back.
She didn’t say anything, so he lined his cock up and gave her what she wanted from him. He slid into her in one long thrust, their moans echoing through the room, mixing pleasure and need, driving away the sadness. He slipped one hand into her hair, leaned his weight on his forearms, thrust again. Over and over and over, his hips met hers and his cock slid deep inside. His pace was steady and unrelenting. He changed his angle when her moans softened, building her pleasure. He had been hard for her for so long today, but there was nothing in the world that could make him come before she did.
When her sighs and moans turned to cries, she gritted her teeth, like she too was holding back. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, pleading. What did she want from him? Was she looking for that last thrust to tip her over the edge, or did she not want this to end, either?
But both of those things were inevitable, and if he couldn’t give her anything else, he wanted her to feel the pleasure that he could give her. So he slipped one hand down her body, cupping her ass, and thrust harder.
His hips met hers two more times, his cock so deep inside, and then she came. She closed her eyes, lost in pleasure, and finally, finally it was too much. He came, his body shaking, and a deep, wounded howl escaped from his mouth.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IT WAS STILL dark when Jessie woke up disoriented, the bed cool and empty around her. She startled as this realization formed. Had Byron left without saying goodbye? She panicked momentarily before she heard the rustle of a drawer opening, then shutting.
Straining her eyes, she found Byron on the other side of the room. Her body sagged back into the bed.
They hadn’t spoken much before they went to sleep. He’d opened his porch doors to let in the sounds of the ocean and the light of the moon, shimmering on top of the water. He had mentioned getting an early start so he could be in New York by the evening, but that was all. She had gotten the feeling that Byron had wanted to talk, but she hadn’t encouraged it, not after he’d said those words, Be with me. Did he mean that night, in his bed, or did he mean something else? She wasn’t sure which one she wanted it to be.
The idea of being together beyond that night was ridiculous, of course. He lived in New York and Hawaii, and he traveled most of the time. They both worked endless hours. And she’d never, under any circumstance, give up the rent-controlled one bedroom in San Francisco. It was like giving up front-row 49ers season tickets or Friday-night reservations at Chez Panisse—it just wasn’t done. Especially not after just a week of indulgence together.
Was this the kind of lure her mother had felt when she’d decided to give up her own path to follow her husband’s? If so, Jessie was starting to understand why her mother might have started down the road of compromises. Saying goodbye to him for real would be achingly difficult. And part of her, a selfish, not very logical part, wanted him to be struggling with this just as hard as she was.
Now, as Byron moved quietly around the room, she wondered if he was planning to say goodbye. Jessie closed her eyes and waited. After a while, the mattress dipped as he sat down beside her. His hand passed over her cheek, smoothing her hair from her face. He kissed her, pressing his lips against hers with a sigh, and in the dark of the night, for the first time since she was a child, her eyes burned with a hint of tears. She didn’t want him to leave.
“Jessie?” he whispered.
She nodded.
“I know this is a little crazy, but I don’t want this to be goodbye.”
Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up. “But—”
“Wait. Let me finish,” he said, cutting her off.
She swallowed and nodded.
“I don’t want you to answer me yet. Just take some time to think about it.” He was there, so close, and she tried to block out every urge to reach for him. “And you have my number. Call me when you’re ready, and we can talk.”
Protests ran through her head, and she opened her mouth to start down her list, but his lips were on hers before she could speak. Soft, coaxing. “Please, just think about it.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. The reasons for turning him down weren’t going anywhere. And this was their goodbye, the way they’d remember each other.
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” she said.
“I had someone deliver a cart so you can get back to your cabin. It’s parked outside. No keys, just get in it and drive. And don’t worry about locking this place, either.”
“Okay.”
Silence. His hand moved over her cheek again and down her neck. Then he kissed her again, his lips lingering on hers.
“Just think about it,” he whispered.
Jessie could feel his gaze heavy on her, willing her to look at him. But she couldn’t. Finally, he gave her one last kiss and stood up.
“Goodbye,” he said.
She swallowed. “Goodbye.”
* * *
A few hours later, Jessie stood in the doorway of Byron’s house with her hand on the front door. He had said not to worry about locking up, but that seemed like an awful lapse in security, considering the size of this place. But, whatever—none of her business. She was walking out of here and, barring some sort of natural disaster, she was pretty sure Byron wasn’t coming back. Which meant the end, unless she called him.
Jessie couldn’t bring herself to walk out the door and just leave him behind. He had challenged her to consider something between them, but there were so many reasons why that wouldn’t work. She could call right now and have it out with him, telling him just how unfair it was to even propose a relationship with no practical ideas about how to do it, but that was definitely a call she’d regret in another day or so.
What other options did she have? Jessie sighed and let her hand drop from the door handle. She ran her fingers through the tangled mess of her hair. Why couldn’t she just bring herself to leave? The longer she stood there, the more irritated she got with him. He was backing her into a corner, pushing her, and she couldn’t stand to leave it alone.
Jessie wasn’t sure how long she stood there until, finally, she had an idea. She had passed an office on the way to his bedroom the night before, so she headed there. The door was closed now, and there was something a little uncomfortable about opening it. She was going into his space without permission, but, dammit, he was the one who had left her alone in his house, so he had it coming to him.
The office was like the rest of the house: sleek and modern, with hints of the islands everywhere. One of those hints was his desk, a large one in dark wood in the middle of the room, facing the window. It looked like it was hand carved, and it probably cost a few months of her exorbitant San Francisco rent. A week ago she would’ve looked at it with scorn—such a waste of money—but now, knowing Byron, he had probably been thinking something totally different. He wasn’t wasteful, so maybe this was his chance to pay an artisan to do the very best of his work.
And reluctantly, she could admit that maybe that perspective had merit, too.
Jessie sat down at the mammoth desk, trying to ignore any evidence of Byron. She looked down at the drawers—didn’t he keep anything locked? Why the hell did he trust her with his house, his office, his most private everything? She was sure there were ways she could use something in here against him, and it made her want to yell at him.
You barely know me.
Yet, he had trusted her. And now she was rifling through his drawer. But she quickly found what she was searching for, a pen and paper, and slammed the drawer shut.
This was it. This was the way she could tell him all the reasons why he was wrong. Why this wouldn’t work. She could tell him all her conditions, knowing that he’d never agree to them. He wasn’t seeing this realistically. It was hard to bring herself to write, knowing that laying things out so plainly and clearly would probably hurt him. And her. But they both needed to be honest right now. So Jessie blew out one last breath and started her letter.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JESSIE SET HER phone down on her desk and frowned. She leaned back in her chair, staring out her window at the San Francisco Bay, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. One call from an angel investor would be surprising, but two in the span of two days? Very unlikely. Then there was the fact that both potential investors were women. Completely improbable.
Especially since she and Jillian had spent the last month searching for a good-match investor, someone with money who didn’t demand control. Though she had come back from the Kalani agreeing that they needed money from somewhere to grow, the venture capital money meant no guarantee that the company would stay private, and as soon as the company went public, the pressure to grow would be unstoppable. Jillian and Jessie also turned down one more offer from Jillian’s boyfriend to fund some of it. Hell no. Waaay too much potential for messiness. Unfortunately, Jillian seemed less wary of that option this time around. Finally, they had decided to take out a small business loan. It was less money than they were hoping for, but it meant she and Jillian still steered the company. Jillian definitely wasn’t happy with her right now, but the business loan bought them a little more time.
Then came the two magic calls. It was as if someone had answered a wish she didn’t even realize she’d made. So of course her mind went straight to Byron. Was he involved in these offers? Okay, maybe that was a bit of a leap, but her mind found a lot of excuses to conjure Byron up. And this was despite the fact that she hadn’t se
en or heard from him since she’d walked out of his house in Hawaii over two months ago.
She had always liked working from her apartment, without distractions, but lately her place had felt a bit...empty. She still let their encounters fuel some of her late-night fantasies, and she had watched The Princess Bride with new eyes an embarrassing number of times. But it was when Byron popped into her daytime thoughts that she felt uneasy.
Because he hadn’t called, even though she’d left her phone number, plus specific instructions to do so in her letter so they could discuss some of her points. She was ready to argue with him...or just talk. Maybe he was still thinking over some of the things she had written. Or maybe he had forgotten it? No, that couldn’t be it. Most likely, he couldn’t agree to everything she had listed in her letter. But it was also possible that maybe he just didn’t have time for playing around like he used to, before he became the CEO of Hayden Properties. Putting their week together into the “playing around” category was surprisingly hard to stomach.
She had gone over these possibilities countless times, but that was before two separate women took a sudden interest in MomJobs. And the real, honest truth was that, as thrilled as she was about the no-strings money—an offer she knew she couldn’t be too proud to accept—it hurt a little that this might have come through Byron. Because instead of responding to her note, instead of talking about a way to have a relationship, he was throwing her money.
The cable car rumbled by outside her apartment window. Jessie glanced over at the Batphone, still plugged in and charging in the corner, where she had left it the day she returned to San Francisco. She could still use it. She could call him up and yell at him for taking the stealth approach instead of facing her. Knowing him, there was a good chance that call might turn into phone sex, but at this point, she’d welcome it. Even though it went against every protection she had put in place for herself when she’d walked out of his house.
Jessie eyed the phone once more, then marched across the room to get it. She stood in front of the tall window and opened the contacts list. There was only one: Batman. She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling.
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