“Okay.” That actually makes a lot of sense. This place is super clean, and he doesn’t seem to put a lot of effort into maintaining that.
My desperation to get the fuck out of here mounts as he pushes open the bedroom door, but I’m helpless to do anything but follow my Pied Piper into the room as he sings his less than merry tune. He leaves me standing in the middle of a massive bathroom with all of my face wash and lotions lined up on the sink. I take off my makeup and brush my teeth. By the time I’m done smoothing moisturizer onto my face, Jake prowls out of the closet wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants. I’m a little taken aback by the image. I would have thought he was more of a sleep naked kind of guy. I guess I was wrong.
“What?” he asks as he stalks closer, clutching a wad of black silk in his fist that he sets on the countertop before he begins peeling my clothes from my body. I’m so surprised by his gentle ministrations that I answer honestly.
“You have pants on.”
“What?” He laughs as he unhooks my bra with nimble fingers.
“You’re wearing pants,” I repeat. “I figured you for a naked sleeper.”
“I am,” he says as he unzips the side of my skirt and lets the material float to the ground around my feet, leaving me wearing nothing at all. “But you seem to have had a kind of rough day, so I didn’t want to add to that.”
And there’s the feeling of melting into a puddle of goo again. How can such a dangerous man be so sweet and thoughtful at times? I’m going to have to keep my guard up at all times.
Jake rolls up the material he carried in with him and lets it drop down over my head and around me. I slip my arms through the straps and marvel at the most beautiful black silk nightie I have ever seen. This didn’t come with me, which can only mean one thing—our fake relationship just jumped to the lingerie stage. I wonder if Logan or Mrs. Summers procured this for me to wear to please him and it wasn’t a nice thought so I try and shake it from my brain.
My breath saws in and out of my lungs and my heart thunders louder than the Clydesdales in a beer ad as Jake takes my hand and leads me to bed. He pulls the bedding back and I climb in. He follows behind me and then settles the blankets over us before turning out the light on his bedside table. The room is totally dark other than the city lights shining through the window.
This is it.
Jake is going to make his move like he warned me he would. I lie in bed and wait… and wait… and wait. And then finally, Jake rolls to his side so that he’s facing me. He rolls me too, tucking me into his big spoon, my back to his front as he wraps his arms tight around me.
“Jake?” I ask.
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
“Going to sleep,” he answers.
“That’s it?” I ask and immediately wish I could call the words back. I’m not ready to be intimate with him again after everything that’s happened, and here I am, drawing attention the fact that he’s not having sex with me right now. I have obviously lost my mind.
“That’s it,” he repeats, rolling farther into me so I’m on my back and he’s got half my body pinned with his. “Did you want me to fuck you?”
“No!” I answer quickly, making Jake chuckle.
“I think the lady may protest too much,” he says, pressing his hard body further against mine..
“No, I’m good.”
“You’re not.” I feel his eyes burning my face. Jake sees everything, and I’m helpless to hide anything from him. I don’t know what to do with a man who is so attuned to me. “You’ve had a rough day, and as much as I want you—and I do want you, Grace—I’m not going to take you tonight.”
“You’re not?”
“No,” he says. “So let’s get some sleep.”
“Thank you, Jake,” I tell him sincerely as he settles us back on our sides with him wrapped around me from behind.
“We’ll see how you feel in the morning.”
And with that, I drifted off to sleep in Jake’s strong arms, not once thinking about how it was odd I hadn’t heard from the blackmailer again and really hoping that it’s not my new fake boyfriend’s dad because I could really like Jake if given half the chance.
“Could Wedding Bells be Ringing Soon?”
Chapter 10
Meet the parents
“Is it hot in here?”
Jake turns only his head to look at me. The rest of his body stays facing forward toward the front door of a house in Queens. The house I grew up in. The house my parents still live in. The house we have come to for the inquisition—I mean, so my new fake boyfriend can meet my very real parents.
I’m not prepared for this.
Jake’s face holds only a bland expression. I have no idea what’s going on behind those baby blues of his, but Goddammit I wish he would give me something. I can’t be the only one who is losing their shit here, right?
“No,” he finally responds before raising his hand to knock on the door. The door which opens rather quickly after Jake knocked, almost as if my parents had been waiting on the other side of the door.
“My baby!” my mom shouts as she pulls me into a hug before turning to usher Jake into her home. She looks so happy—happy for me. Mom is overjoyed I have finally found my person, like Dad is for her. I can see it in her eyes. She’s picking out china patterns and naming grandbabies after long-dead relatives, and that is not what this is.
Maybe Jake should have let that car hit me this morning. But I digress…
• • •
“GRACE! GRACE! OVER HERE!”
I had needed a bit of fresh air to get my head on straight again after another round with the partners of what their six-degrees-of-separation connection to the man of the hour could do for them. They were not impressed when the answer out of my mouth was absolutely nothing.
I get the feeling Jake is a man who everyone uses for their own purposes. He hasn’t come right out and said so, but I get the impression his popularity is not all it’s cracked up to be. And no matter what this thing between us is, I won’t use him. I won’t be like everyone else. Even if it costs me my job at this firm.
Every day since the announcement of our fake relationship, the partners have tried to slip me more than shady clients, assign me details to people I would never, ever associate with, and forge connections between them and their cronies and Jake. And I have thrown up every roadblock in my arsenal and flat out said “no” on more than one occasion.
And every single time, they’ve let me know that my position there hangs in the balance. They could be bluffing. It’s abundantly clear they need me more than I need them. But they also might not be. I’m young—not that young but young enough that I’m not a partner. I also don’t currently carry a surname that dates back to Kennedy connections, so I could be done. Fortunately for me, I’ve saved a nice little nest egg for my own startup.
Still, I needed to clear my thoughts.
If I had been thinking with a clear head, I never would have stepped outside the building on my own, midday like I did.
Me: I’m going to grab a cup of coffee and I’ll be right back.
Carter: oooohhh! bring me back something good!
Me: LOL. Ok!
He always makes me smile. I was looking down at my phone when I pushed through the front doors to the building. The camera flashes took me by surprise instantly and I stumbled. But I didn’t want them to see me sweat as they called out my name. So I kept going, right across the street.
Too bad I didn’t see the car that was barreling down on me.
“Grace!” someone shouted. I don’t know who it was, I was too stunned. My feet encased in ridiculously high heels were cemented to the pavement. My heart thundered and there was a roaring in my ears so loud the horn honking was drowned out. This was it. I was going to die.
And then I was hit from behind by a linebacker, only he didn’t knock me down. He grabbed me around the waist and hauled me out of the way just in time for the
car to whoosh past with a honk as if it didn’t almost mow me down.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Jake roared, and it was so harsh, so mean, that tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t do it on purpose. I just needed some fresh air and a walk around the corner to cool my temper. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to apologize, even though he didn’t deserve it, when he took one look at me and hauled me into his arms, crushing his mouth down on mine. It was not a nice kiss; it was need and fear and frustration. It was punishing as it was praising. And I grabbed onto it with both hands.
“Get back,” Gus ordered, and like a bucket of cold water poured over our heads, we broke apart. I tried to push out of Jake’s arms, but he only held me tighter while the shutterbugs clicked all around me.
“Let me go,” I whispered. I kept my eyes downcast. I wasn’t ready to meet his steady gaze.
“Never,” he whispered harshly. “Where were you going?”
“To get a cup of coffee,” I answered. “There’s a spot around the corner I like to go when I need to get away from the office every now and then.”
“Then lead the way.”
Jake held my hand while he walked around the corner with me to grab the coffee. I was shaking so badly I never bothered to ask what he was doing there midday.
• • •
“ARE YOU SURE IT’S not hot in here?” I ask again as I pull at the collar of my blouse. Jake just shakes his head once in the negative.
After mom and dad lead us into my childhood home, they sit us on the sofa to begin our interrogation. Jake seems totally unaffected, and my dad gives it his best effort.
“So what are your intentions with our daughter?” he asks as he sits across the coffee table from us.
“I plan to take care of your daughter, sir,” Jake answers calmly.
“And you feel like you can do that by living with her?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Before you marry her?” my dad adds.
“I intend to marry her,” Jake answers proudly.
“Were you going to ask for my blessing or is that not something a senator does?” Dad asks.
“Dad—” I try to stop my dad from being out and out rude, but Jake answers him in the best way possible.
“I will when the time is right, Mr. Sanders. Being a senator does not make me above what is right and wrong,” he says. “I will ask you when Grace and I are ready to take that next step, but know that with or without your blessing, I will make her mine.”
I open my mouth to apologize to my dad for Jake’s rude answer, but Dad just sits back and smiles. Something I do not understand about this exchange has pleased both my dad and Jake as they sit back and grin at each other. Boys are so weird. The moment causes a warm feeling to swirl through my chest, and I know without a doubt I’m in over my head.
“Dinner’s ready,” my mom shouts from the kitchen as she brings a pan of lasagna to the table. I rush to help her by carrying the salad bowl and a big basket of garlic bread. Jake meets me in the doorway to the kitchen and takes both from my hands, carrying them for me to the table before holding out a chair for me to sit in. Dad looks at me and winks before holding out a chair for my mom.
“How did you stay so calm during Dad’s interrogation?” I ask Jake when I lean into him, whispering in his ear.
“SERE training,” he says before winking at me. The answer is so ridiculous and lighthearted, the idea that torture and evasion training had prepared him to meet my mild mannered dad, that it catches me off guard, and I throw my head back and laugh, leaning into him while I do.
I was so caught up in the moment that I didn’t see Jake’s face soften and the look of complete adoration that passed across his strong features. Nor did I see the look my parents exchanged with each other when they saw how Jake looked at me. I did notice the rest of the evening went by with happy banter, wine, and food, but above all else, family.
“Jeffries’s Inner Circle Cry Foul.”
Chapter 11
Meet the mercenary
“Happy?” Jake asks me as we ride in the car back to the brownstone. Dinner with my parents went so fantastically that I’m having trouble holding onto the reality of the situation.
“Yeah,” I answer softly.
“Good,” he says gently before hauling me into his lap.
I let out a little “eep!” before he settles me into his arms and tucks his face into the crook of my neck.
“W-w-what are you doing?” I ask. It feels like years since the office incident where he left me without orgasm and panties. And honestly, I had put the thought of it out of my head. I’ve had a lot on my mind. But now that he’s holding me tight against his warm body, I can’t help but be reminded.
“I’m holding you,” he replies as he nips and kisses his way up the side of my neck. I tip my head back to give him better access, because I just can’t seem to help myself where Jacob Chancellor is concerned.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“And kissing you.”
“Okay,” I repeat just before he presses his mouth to mine. I open under him and let his tongue lick inside.
“And touching you.”
“Uh huh.” To be honest, he has been touching me in some way the entire time he’s held me in his lap. Jake rubs his palms up my arms and down my sides, barely grazing my breasts. He trails fingertips up my outer thigh and back down while he kisses me over and over again, but the one thing he does not do is touch me where I need him most. I would think that maybe he’s unaffected, but the hungry way he kisses me proves otherwise. As does the hard length that presses against my ass through our clothes.
I’m so desperate for him that I’m about to open my mouth and beg him to take me in this town car, when he pulls back and smiles sweetly at me.
“We’re home.”
“Oh.”
Jake pushes open the door and holds his hand out for me. I take it without question and let him lead me into the dark house. I’m also going to let him lead me upstairs and put us both out of our misery. Maybe after a couple shared orgasms we will be able to put things back into perspective, and I won’t hold out hope for when he will ask my dad for his blessing—something we both know will never happen—even though the more time I spend with Jake, the more I could let myself hope for it to happen. I know what Ashley Jeffries must have felt before she was given her final goodbye.
He keys off the alarm and shuts the door behind us.
“Where were we?” he asks with a sexy smirk playing about his lips when he turns back to me.
“We were about to talk about the events that need to be added to the schedule,” someone says from behind Jake, making us both go solid.
I peer over his shoulder and see a man I knew I was going to have to engage at some point in time, and yet I was foolishly hoping that day would never come. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen is none other than Rick Donovan, Jake’s Campaign Manager and all-around political mercenary.
Jake lets out a heavy sigh and hangs his head, because he knows that whatever brought Rick here tonight can’t be great and also stopped the mutual orgasms we were hoping for in their tracks. While I find Rick to be completely distasteful and would never associate with him regularly, I can’t help but be thankful for the distraction. Maybe I’ll be able to clear the fog of lust and longing for things I can’t have. Then I can go to bed with my panties still on my person and my heart still belonging to me.
Wishful thinking, right?
“I’ll just leave you two to it,” I say softly as I nod in the direction of the stairs.
“This involves you too,” Rick inserts before turning on his heels and stalking back into the kitchen. I can’t help but prickle at the way he orders me around without outright doing so. I’m not his political lackey. I stomp into the kitchen behind him with Jake’s chuckle floating behind me as he follows.
“Excuse you,” I snap. “I am not yours to order around.”
“Are you dating Jake?”
he asks me.
I want to deny it, but I also don’t know who Jake has told and who he hasn’t about the nature of our situation. Not to mention he had me so turned on in the car with barely a kiss and a touch that I would be lying if I said otherwise.
“Yes,” I bite out.
“And are you living in his home?” This is really annoying.
“Rick—” Jake starts, but I don’t let him wiggle me off of Rick’s hook. Jake should see the kind of man he keeps company with.
“Yes.”
“Then his obligations become your obligations,” Rick says before pressing on and telling me something I already know and should have remembered, making guilt flood my system. “His obligations could mean the win or the loss of a presidential election.”
“You’re right,” I reply quietly. And he is. I won’t let my petty childishness cost Jake his election. Jake is somehow friends with this henchman, so I guess I should hear him out. “What do you need?”
“A charity gala,” he says, and Jake groans, making Rick shoot him a glare. “You need to go out with Grace as a couple. It will go a long way to show you are more stable—a family man. That you can handle the running of the most powerful nation.”
“I can handle it,” Jake growls.
“I know that,” Rick says, rolling his eyes. “But we have to get to the Oval first before you can show everyone else. Not to mention it will be a great opportunity for Grace to rub elbows for her Open Arms project. Thanks for including us on that, by the way,” he adds sarcastically.
“Umm… I’m sorry?” I wince. I feel bad now that we all know that I left them out of it on purpose and the fact that Rick just tossed that less than stellar action of mine on the table like a dead fish.
“Consider us included,” Rick answers, and Jake smiles broadly. Those two must have planned this all along. How sneaky of them! And still, I smile right along with them. Jake’s joy over his boon is hard to ignore.
“Don’t think we won’t talk about that later,” he whispers in my ear.
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