Oh yeah. And he couldn’t wait until that day. There was nothing quite like Alexia when she was so ready for him, so brimming with crazed desire she could only gasp, “Hurry!”
When he got her to that point, that’s when she’d realize she was exactly where she belonged. With him. Always.
With the promise hanging between them and a smirk on her face, he went back to his own room to take a shower. Alone. He swore and twisted the handle to cold.
Didn’t help. His erection was so stiff, he felt the ache in his spine. Nothing to be done but take care of it himself. Wrapping his fist around his shaft, he stroked long and hard, envisioning Alexia’s gorgeous body as water dripped from her breasts.
Groaning, he slapped a palm against the tile, bracing as he worked his fist faster and faster. Alexia, bent over the vanity, her eyes hot as he drove into her from behind…her moans like music as she voiced her pleasure.
When he came, it was with her name on his lips.
Soon, he promised himself, everything would be fixed. She’d be in his arms, and then all would be right with the world.
Jesse was reading headlines on his iPad, sneaking glances at a couple of financial reports via e-mail as his CFO sent them, and drinking coffee at the inlaid bistro table in the breakfast nook when she finally came downstairs forty-five minutes later.
With the image of her unclothed fresh in his mind, his groin stirred hungrily. Breakfast was going to be a form of torture then. Wonderful.
“I never agreed to your high-handed breakfast invitation, by the way.” She halted, arms crossed, a hair past the arch joining the breakfast nook with the kitchen. “The deal didn’t say anything about make-up dates.”
“You don’t have to stay,” he replied and pushed out the other chair. “But I’d like it if you would.”
Her mouth quirked. “I thought about not coming, but I figured you’d hightail it back upstairs to look for me, crossing your fingers I’d still be undressed.”
“Babe, my fingers are crossed twenty-four seven you’ll be undressed,” he said with a mock leer before he thought better of it. They weren’t at a place where he could flirt with her yet.
“You asked me to have breakfast with you so I can watch you work?” she asked mildly with a nod at his iPad, like it didn’t matter. Except he knew it did.
“It’s only fair. I watched you take a shower.” He jumped up to pour a second cup of coffee, black and scalding hot like she preferred, and handed it off with a deep breath and a sincere smile.
New day, new start. New opportunities to figure out how to change the dynamic. He flipped the tablet over.
“What is this, the apocalypse? Brain tumor?” The antagonism melted from her face as she quirked her lips. “You look tired.”
Interesting, considering a bolt of energy zinged around inside, waking every muscle and erasing any trace of fatigue as she gazed at him with those wide hazel eyes radiating a touch of sympathy. And maybe something else.
That energy lit up the air between them, and her eyes drifted to his lips. Was she remembering the scorching-hot kiss? Because he sure was.
She looked away, as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him for a second longer, and gulped the strong coffee. “I can’t believe I forgot how good your imported coffee is. One of the few perks in this arrangement.”
A conversation. Progress, at last. It almost made up for the disappointment at how quickly the charged moment disintegrated. They were taking this one halting, jerky step at a time, but as long as they were traveling forward, slow was okay.
“Please sit down.” Jesse waved a hand at the table. “I made scrambled eggs and toast. If you’d like jelly, there’s grape on the table, and I think there’s strawberry in the refrigerator.”
He bustled around, plating her breakfast and sliding a fork onto the table. A shocking awareness of her sizzled down his spine. The normalcy of being with Alexia in the kitchen eating a simple breakfast struck him mute. Meals, especially breakfast, had always been low-key and easy before the miscarriage. Joking and laughing. Touching—accidentally and on purpose.
After it happened, tension became a living, breathing thing. Both of them did a lot of staring at the wall or the floor. Very little eating happened, and talking was completely out. She was too lost in her misery, and he was too mad.
She’d deliberately stopped taking her birth control pills. He was sure of it. She knew full well he didn’t want kids. Knew he’d be a horrible father, especially since Outlaw still required so much of his energy. Knew he didn’t want to share her with anyone, least of all a kid who would demand all her time and energy, but she’d only thought of herself and what she wanted.
They’d had a deal, struck before they’d ever talked about marriage. And she’d gone back on it.
Anger swirled around in his blood.
So that was still a sore spot. After that first day outside the media room, he’d tried to tell himself he was over it. Apparently not.
She settled into a chair at the cozy table, leaving him at loose ends, so he sat as well and pushed the unpleasantness of the past away where it belonged.
“How is your employee?” she asked and picked up a fork.
Jesse swallowed a bite of toast with difficulty. “Not good. He’s in intensive care. He lost a lot of blood, and they had to amputate… It’s not breakfast conversation. He’ll live, which is the blessing.” His mouth twisted into a grimace. “I wish there was more I could do.”
“Why do you always see what you haven’t done instead of what you have?” Her brows snapped down. “How many other CEOs rush to the bedside of a line employee and stay all night? I also heard you arrange for some help. And I bet that’s not all you did.”
He ran a hand through his hair and stared at a place in the table where the pattern didn’t match the rest of the inlay. The conversation was headed to a place he didn’t like. He couldn’t rest on the laurels of what had already been done because it wasn’t enough. It didn’t fix it. Nothing could erase a failure that had already occurred.
“I covered his deductible, so what? Throwing money at him doesn’t absolve the fact that the accident happened in my factory. What’s on your agenda for today?”
“Don’t change the subject. You’re a good person. They call them accidents for a reason.”
Alexia’s hand drifted over to cover his. Ironic timing for her to reach out at the same instant he’d rather not be touched.
“I’m changing the subject on purpose.” He removed her hand from his and ignored the hurt in her expression.
“You care about your employees.” She dropped her fork without taking a bite, and it clattered against the china plate. “Why do you act like that’s such a crime?”
“You said it, not me.”
“Because you don’t say anything ever. You’re too busy running in the other direction.” Shininess gathered at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked it back. “There’s our biggest problem. I want you to talk to me, and all you want to do is fix whatever issue I’m having so you can get back to work.”
He pulverized the remainder of his toast, straining to rein in his temper. The situation was already headed past salvageable given his current level of frustration and fatigue, and he couldn’t get his brain on top of the right words. “Not working now, am I?”
He liked to take care of Alexia. But he also liked taking care of Outlaw, and she hated the competition, so she never let him take care of her anymore. And then refused to acknowledge the irony.
Outlaw had gotten him his first date with Alexia. He’d always thought his success was a turn-on for her. Until it became clear she felt nothing but antagonism for his company, constantly complaining about how much time he spent at work. Somehow he’d envisioned that would disappear if they truly made up. As if she’d suddenly realize that Outlaw was a piece of him that he could never pluck out.
That’s why the Sattlewhite deal was so important. It meant he was moving forward. But this w
as probably the worst personal timing for an acquisition in the history of acquisitions. But was he supposed to put everything on hold to appease her hostility when he didn’t even understand it?
“I’m trying to be patient, here. Why can’t you give just a little?” Pressing both thumbs to her cheekbones, she mumbled, “This is never going to work. Why am I doing this to myself?”
She wadded up the napkin and threw it in the center of the plate, right in the middle of the uneaten eggs. Jesse grabbed her hand as she jumped up and forced himself to answer.
“You’re doing this because we’re meant to be together. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. Your feelings for me are never going to go away.”
Did she even realize how difficult it was for him to say such things, how he continually twisted himself inside out for her? Probably not. Once, he’d thought she really got the fact that he wasn’t one of those bleeding heart guys who ran off at the mouth with hokey sentiment.
Either her easy acceptance of his inability to express himself was all a lie or she’d changed. He didn’t like either scenario.
She laughed, a bitter, short note that scraped across his skin. “Only you could make a declaration of undying love sound like an incurable disease. Why do you want to try? You mumbled some drivel about not liking to lose, and while I fully buy that, it can’t be the whole reason. What else?”
The coffee was lukewarm, but he choked it down to wet his dry throat. If this deal was going to work, here was his chance to do things differently. Be less selfish. He had to give, like she suggested, and it needed to be a whole lot more than a little.
“You appreciate who I am. Underneath. You’re okay with grease on my jeans and that I never wear a suit.” He shrugged, tightening his grip on her fingers.
She was sliding away mentally, and if he didn’t figure out what to tell her, she’d walk out and this brief bit of connection would end.
Shades of how it was after the miscarriage, when she disappeared inside herself, haunted him. He couldn’t let that happen again, and fear spewed words out of his mouth. “I miss you. That’s why I wanted to try again.”
Her expression softened. “I miss you too.”
It was a huge concession—on both sides—and it meant more to him than he’d been prepared for.
Nothing fundamental had changed. And yet he had hope for the first time since that bitterly cold December day when the only answer he could find was to leave. He’d been paying for that rash decision ever since.
One day, that mistake would be fully erased. But probably not today.
Alexia’s hand slid from his, and her guard sprang back into place. “I’m sorry about your employee. I have to go.”
Chapter 6
Date night arrived faster than an appointment for a root canal. Alexia had been trying to forget about it, which was akin to forgetting about a broken leg. DATE loomed at the edge of her consciousness, dark and inescapable.
Jesse was taking her to dinner, and she couldn’t decide if it was a better idea than the pool party or worse. Despite the jumble of feelings she still had for him, she didn’t know how to be alone with Jesse anymore. Everything unsaid poked at her, especially when Jesse made heart-felt confessions like he had at breakfast the other day. But then he never wanted to talk about the really important stuff, like why the miscarriage had been such a freaking nightmare that she’d developed panic attacks as a result.
That’s why trying again wasn’t going to work. Now or ever.
She slithered into a jade-green dress that transformed her muddy irises to hazel and gave the illusion of cleavage. High-heeled sandals were inescapable unless she wanted to look like a munchkin next to six-foot-one Jesse. He liked it when she dressed to kill, but she wasn’t doing it for him. The fact that this dress would be sheer torture for him all night—that made the effort so worth it.
Though already late, she took extra time with the stairs so she didn’t end up in a heap at the bottom. A restaurant would be vastly preferable to the emergency room. Jesse lounged in the family room watching an IRL race on the flat-screen TV mounted to the wall.
He was wearing a white button-down, long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled to mid forearm, emphasizing the swell of muscle and tendons. Doubtlessly selected on purpose to confuse her. Without the barometer of a classic rock band as a guide, she had no clue as to his mood. He couldn’t have conceived of a better way to throw her off-kilter.
She wasn’t aware he owned a shirt in a color besides black.
He caught sight of her. With a low whistle, he rose slowly as she entered, TV forgotten, and gave her a scorching once-over. She did a little pirouette for absolutely no sane reason other than as a shield against the heat in his eyes. Maybe then she wouldn’t be reminded of how cold it got in her lonely room. Or of that big, gaping, Jesse-shaped hole.
Suddenly she was in his arms, spin instantly interrupted. And all at once, the heat in his eyes wasn’t her only problem.
Torso to torso, he shoved both hands through her hair, cupped her head, and connected their lips savagely.
Her mind emptied as he kissed her.
His tongue drove between her lips, claiming hers with hot insistence, masterfully weaving sensation as he swirled deep in her mouth.
A hard tug of longing yanked at her from deep within. Her knees buckled and she clutched his shoulders to keep from falling. He rearranged her insides when he was like this, so focused on her, only her. When a man so powerful and scarcely contained focused on you, the world skipped a revolution.
Reason circled and then doubled back. She pulled away—with incredible effort—and removed his hands from her hair so she could restart her brain. “Please don’t do that.”
If she let him kiss her, it would be mere seconds before all her inhibitions melted. They’d be naked right here on the floor before she could blink, Jesse poised to shatter her with a fierce coupling. That very thing had happened more times than she could count, and it had been so long since the last time he’d rocked her world that she didn’t trust herself to remember why it was a bad idea to let him strip her right here, right now.
“Do what? Enjoy kissing a beautiful woman?” He came in for round two, but she slapped a hand on his chest. The stiff fabric of his button-down felt foreign under her palm. But it did the job to stop him in his tracks.
“Yes, exactly.” She smoothed loose strands of hair mussed by Jesse’s fingers but suspected it was beyond repair. “I’ll go on your dates because I made a deal, but you have to respect some boundaries. Kissing is one of them.”
Something elemental sizzled through his expression. “The dates are so we can find a way to be a couple again. Therefore, I’m going to kiss you. A lot.”
He ran the back of one hand along her cheekbone, unleashing a shiver all the way down her spine. He was too close. She started to retreat, but his quick arm wormed across the small of her back, pinning her against his hard body.
Warm lips grazed her ear as he whispered, “I’m going to strip you naked and love every inch of your delicious body. Just like I used to.”
Wet heat pooled instantly, dampening her panties. It would be good, no question. He’d push her higher and higher until she sobbed out his name because she couldn’t keep it all inside any longer. But there was a price for such pleasure—her heart. And the shattered pieces hadn’t aligned so well when she’d put them back together the last time.
She wrenched out of his grasp. “Why are you doing this?
“Because I want you. And we belong together.”
“You left, Jesse. That canceled your claim on me, especially in the bedroom. I’m just here to get my patent and leave.”
If only that would be the result. She suspected she’d leave behind far more than she would prefer when she went.
He grinned, thoroughly unconcerned about her protest. “You can think that till the cows come home, but that’s not how it’s going to happen. Shall we?”
With a
flourish, he led the way to the garage and folded her into the shiny silver Vette. With the top up, the scent of the factory nearly overwhelmed her, and coupled with the yet-to-be-dissolved ache in her body, it nearly brought her to tears.
He drove to the center of downtown where the city’s vein lay exposed in a study of brick, concrete, and glass. Even on a Tuesday night, money and activity had more flow than ebb. Working in the advertising business had showed her how much money lined the pockets of Texans, and in turn, they liked to ensure everyone else never forgot either.
Jesse pulled into the valet line at the restaurant behind a Porsche and a BMW, both with dark tinted windows and wax jobs shinier than a diamond. Jesse’s Vette was a good match for him—American made, good quality, and one sexy beast.
Fast. She couldn’t forget fast when her blood still reeled from the leg-melting kiss earlier.
Jesse guided her to the restaurant with a warm hand to her spine. The maître d’ smiled broadly as Jesse passed him a folded bill and whisked them to an intimate table in the back. She hadn’t been on a real date in… forever. Not since Before.
After, they were too busy trying to figure out how to be with each other and not step on one of the many land mines ringing them.
Block it out. Jesse was the master of the curve ball, which required all her faculties here and now to get through this date.
“A bottle of Cabernet,” she told Jesse when the waiter materialized. If she had to spend the evening with him, she would do it in style.
“What’s the occasion?” he asked after ordering.
“You’re paying.” She focused on the menu. Nothing edible jumped out, but then, she wasn’t hungry.
Her tummy was too busy being nervous to have room for food. Geez, how had she gotten to a place where having dinner with her ex caused such jitters? Other women did it with style and panache, making it look easy to throw an adios over their shoulders, then go home to their new man toy and alimony. She, on the other hand, had no toys and no alimony, thanks to stupid pride. If he didn’t want her, she didn’t want anything of his either and ensured the divorce papers said so. Of course she’d have to actually file for any of that to matter.
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