“Yes, but we’ve yet to sign our contract.” I smile sweetly, but I can’t keep the exasperation out of my voice.
He stands and walks around the desk slowly. Each step is measured and deliberate. Every moment stirs something within me. My anxiety is already sky-high. I can’t take much more of this tonight. When he’s finally in front of me, he leans back on his desk and his voice drops when he asks, “Where’s the contract?”
I reach into my bag and pull out the paperwork that will solidify the deal. This is my last chance to walk away from him. I’ll have to see him, smell him, be around him, and there will be no backing out without me losing everything. Once he signs this, it’s over. I hold the papers in my hand, which is visibly shaking from my poorly concealed unease. Jackson reaches out, silently asking me to hand it over.
I stand and walk toward him with the contract extended between us. He grabs it and leans on his desk, signing on the dotted line without even reading it. Jackson puts the pen down and turns back to me. Though he doesn’t voice it, his expression says, “Gotcha.”
“Well, Ms. Pope, there’s no turning back now.”
I bite my bottom lip and my stomach drops as Jackson hands me back the signed contract. Oh God, what did I just do? I’m so stupid and in so much trouble. It’s as if he has some inside knowledge of what makes me tick, like he sees right through my layers of bullshit, straight to my libido. No man has ever made me this unbalanced. Even when Neil and I first started dating, I don’t think I was ever this scattered. But with Jackson I’m a mess.
I stare into his beautiful eyes. They’re dancing with humor. He smirks and holds my gaze, unwilling to break away first. Both of us struggle to gain the upper hand, knowing whomever breaks first is somehow showing they’re weaker than the other. I hold my eyes steady and smile, hoping they aren’t showing the internal war going on inside my head. I need to say something and put an end to this. “Mr. Cole, thank you for signing the contract. I really do need to go now.”
“We just made a deal and I told you to call me Jackson, twice. Now, let’s head to dinner,” he commands, his voice leaving no room for discussion.
“Jackson, please.” I take a deep breath, my eyes begging for understanding. “I really can’t tonight.” I have no good reason and if he pushes me, I’ll cave. My only reason is he scares me. I don’t trust myself around him.
He stands and walks over to my chair again. He grasps my chin between his finger and rough thumb. The feel of his skin against mine causes my pulse to race. I’m sure he can hear it. Just like the first night we met, he holds my face steady as he stares into my eyes, searching for something. “Fine, not tonight. However, I need you to meet me here Monday by 9 a.m. There are a few meetings I want you to sit in on with the production team and then we leave for Virginia on Friday.”
“Virginia?” I ask, completely thrown off.
“Yes, it’s a state a few states below New York.” His grin grows and his dimple deepens with his taunting.
“I know where Virginia is.” Ass. “I wasn’t aware you had an office there.”
“Our production plant is there. I’d like you to fly out with me this week, see some of the new products that are being developed, and tell me your ideas for future campaigns. If this one goes well, hopefully we can work together on a more permanent basis.” He raises an eyebrow suggestively.
I shift in my seat and try to calm my heart, which is threatening to fly out of my chest. Future campaigns? Ugh! This would solidify my career at CJJ. There’s no way I can refuse him. Damn him and his gorgeous face. “Okay, next Friday will be fine. I can meet you here Monday morning as well.”
Jackson grabs my bag and offers his hand to help me stand. I take it and the contact causes heat to pool in my center, again. A simple touch is all it takes for me to become a puddle at his feet. Who am I kidding? All it took was the sound of his voice. I turn my head away, trying to hide any emotions showing on my face. He gently pulls me up. He’s close, so close. It’s like he’s everywhere. His cologne, the warmth of his body—it’s all encompassing.
Feeling overwhelmed and dizzy, I start to tilt. Jackson moves his hand to my hip to steady me. His deep voice does nothing to calm my nerves. “Easy. You don’t want to fall into my arms again.”
“Yes, that would be a tragedy.” I blink hard, shaking my head and trying not to focus on the way my body is heating from his touch.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I can think of far worse places to land. The ground for one.”
I laugh and try to take a step back, but I’m stuck. “Right. I have a feeling I’m going to pay for that for a long time.”
“What? Me catching you? I would’ve let it go if you’d stayed and had a drink with us.” He smirks.
If there were ever a time I wanted the ground to open and swallow me, this is it. “If this is going to be my punishment, I almost wish you would’ve let me fall,” I kid.
“Now where would the fun in that be?”
I nod and start to head toward the door. “I really have to go. I’ll see myself out. Thank you for your time.” I turn my back and exit his office.
I should have known he’d follow me. I sense him before I hear him. Deciding to ignore him and get the hell out of here, I start moving quickly, hoping he gives up and goes back to his office. I hear him chuckle behind me as if he can read my mind. Right as I reach the exit, his hand presses against the door so I can’t open it.
I huff and turn with my back flush against the door and—Jackson is so close. It’s like my dream, only this time I’m not at my car. The cold glass is doing nothing to help the fire burning within me.
He takes a deep breath, and neither of us speaks as his hand slides down the door until it’s next to my shoulder. Ever so slowly, he lifts his left hand and caresses it down my arm, stopping at my wrist. Lifting and opening my fingers, he places something in my palm then closes my fingers back around it. Still neither of us has spoken a word, but it feels as if we’ve had an entire conversation. Jackson leans forward and I think he’s going to kiss me. I close my eyes, silently praying that he will. Instead he uses his weight and pushes himself back upright. I feel his warmth evaporate and it takes all my strength not to wrap myself around him and get lost in his touch. Jackson smiles, looks at my hand, and turns away without saying a word.
Somehow I manage to keep myself from collapsing and make my way to the elevator. Once inside with the doors shut, I slide to the floor and close my eyes. I inhale deeply, trying to calm myself. Remembering that he placed something in my hand, I unclench my fingers and look down to find a business card. On the back, scribbled in short, precise strokes, is a message.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about him?” Ashton continues to question me. She’s been grilling me for the last hour.
I haven’t seen her at all over the last few days. She’s been staying at the lab because of the clinical trials, and the one night she was home, I had a dinner meeting with the other publicists from my office. By the time I got back, Ashton was already passed out. Needing some girl time, we decided to spend the weekend relaxing before I have to deal with Jackson again. We’re now on our second bottle of wine. During our first bottle, I was a mess—trying to form words while rehashing all the details about Neil and Piper, then about Jackson. She was quiet and listened to me get it all out, constantly filling my glass and offering me silent support. However, during the consumption of bottle number two, we’ve moved on to complete giddiness and feeling no pain. We’re now laughing over all the stuff I was upset about an hour ago. Of course, Ashton finds it highly entertaining—I find it disturbing and unfair.
“I don’t know, Ashton. What the hell was I going to say? I tripped over a chair and fell on a ridiculously hot guy? I felt stupid enough. I didn’t need your shit too.” I laugh and gulp my wine.
“Only you! I swear this shit never happens to anyone else I know. So what are you going to do? I mean he’s hot and he’s obviously sexually attracted to
you.” She raises her eyebrow and grins.
“I’m not going to do anything. He’s my client.”
“So? Who says you can’t service your boss?” She winks and giggles.
“I can’t believe you. You would never sleep with the doctors in the lab, would you?”
“Who says I haven’t? Plus, they’re all ugly as shit. If there was a hot one, I’d totally play doctor and let him cure me.” She lays her hand across her head in mockery.
“You have issues.” I groan at the sheer ridiculousness of my situation. “What the hell am I going to do?”
“You’re going to do what you always do—you’ll go in there and fight all of your emotions and kick some corporate ass. Then you’ll come home and wallow in your Ben & Jerry’s, be miserable, and cry yourself to sleep. Eventually, you’ll waste all your chances for a real connection and sabotage your own happiness.” She shrugs and refuses to break eye contact.
I gasp at the cruelty—and accuracy—of her statement. “What the hell, Ashton?”
“Sorry, Cat, but it’s true. You knew things were wrong with Neil, but instead of leaving him, you got engaged. Before him there was Eli. You stayed with him for years because he was safe and you thought you deserved the sheer hell he put you through. I’m not trying to hurt you.” She scoots over and puts her arm around me, pulling me into a hug. “I’m just telling you that whether this guy was your client or not, you’d find a reason to destroy yourself over him.”
My heart clenches at her words. It hurts so much coming from Ashton. I know she loves me, but I hate what she’s saying. “I don’t understand why every guy I meet or date lets me down.”
“You need to stop looking for this perfect guy. You need to get out of your own head and start having fun. Once the product is released, who knows where you and this Jackson guy will be? Maybe you’ll like him. Maybe he’ll be the world’s biggest piece of shit. Either way, you need to figure you out before you fret about all this. Monday morning, go to your meeting, be the kick-ass girl I know you are, and blow them all away.” She smiles reassuringly before picking up the empty wine glasses and bottles and heading into the kitchen.
I grab a pillow and clutch it to my chest. She’s right. It’s not like I even know Jackson or have any connection to him, other than this crazy feeling I get when I’m around him. I need to focus on my life for once. I don’t have to take anyone else into account. The realization is liberating. Now I need to figure out a way to make my body stop reacting to Jackson and all his sexiness.
For the third night in a row, I’ve slept like complete shit. I tossed and turned all night, tormented by images of Jackson and me rolling around in my bed. It was pure heaven. Then I woke up and realized none of the amazing things he just did to me were real. Now I’m all keyed up and have to go to a meeting where I’ll spend the majority of my time trying not to stare at his gorgeous face. I groan and roll over, punching my pillow, wishing that I could call in sick today. But I’m no chicken shit, so I throw my covers off and head into the bathroom.
I strip out of my clothes and enter the waterfall shower, turning on the side jets. The hot water relaxes my muscles as my mind wanders to—who else?—Jackson. I need a plan on how to handle him—he makes me feel too much. He’s even taken over my subconscious while I sleep. Last night’s vivid dream of Jackson touching me, licking me, and claiming me rushes back, rekindling my need for relief. I close my eyes, letting the steam envelop me as I start to remember the way he played with my body, as if he’d been doing it for years.
The warm scent of my vanilla body wash relaxes me as I gently rub the soap over my curves. I lean back against the cold shower tiles and slowly move my hands to my breasts, circling the soap, imagining it’s his mouth on me. My nipples harden as I tease myself. I start to gasp and moan, fantasizing that his hands and voice are coaxing me on, telling me how much he wants me. The demand to release becomes stronger as I get lost in the sensations. My hand slides down my slick skin until it finds my clit, circling the bundle of nerves, pushing me further and further into ecstasy. My muscles clench as I envision Jackson’s fingers, his body covering mine and entering me. I insert one finger, climbing higher, higher, moaning and quivering. My release comes fast and hard as I increase the friction, finally erupting. I’m panting as bursts of light blur my vision.
Eventually, I come down from my euphoric state, finish my shower, and manage to dress myself without any major catastrophe. Hopefully the release will alleviate some of the tension in my body and make it easier to deal with Jackson. I make it to the train without a minute to spare, but at least it’s nice and quiet. I’m hoping I can hold on to this blissful feeling all day.
Once I arrive in Manhattan, a new set of emotions overcomes me. Raw strength and determination flow through me. There’s something about working in New York City. You can almost feel the power in the streets. It’s a breeding ground for success. Being here, working here, living here—it’s invigorating.
Standing in front of Jackson’s building, I see my reflection in the glass. I certainly look the part. I have on a soft cream blouse tucked into a pair of high-waisted gray suit pants. My long hair is pin straight, my dark brown eyes look soft with only a wisp of mascara, and sheer lip gloss accentuates my lips. My black heels elongate my tiny frame, making me feel tall and bold. With my posture straight, I enter the office, heading up to face Jackson and start kicking ass.
The same sweet receptionist guides me back to the conference room where my initial meeting was held. I’m a little early, so there isn’t anyone else in the room yet. I’m removing items from my bag when I hear the door click open. Jackson’s voice floats through the space.
“Yes, I’m aware of your opinion on the matter. However, I’ve made my choice.” He sounds irritated.
A second voice responds, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. It’s a female, though, and by her tone I can tell she’s trying to make him listen to her.
“I don’t care or agree with you,” he responds to whatever the comment was. Another long pause as I strain to hear her response. The door inches open a little more.
“Well, Ms. Carlson, it’s a good thing I’m the CEO.”
Shit! Piper! My blissful mood drains away.
The door opens and Jackson steps aside to let Piper come in first. She looks up and grimaces when she notices me standing here. Jackson enters. It’s as if the world stops moving. His presence would cause the energy in any room to shift, but I can’t help wondering if I feel it more intensely than everyone else. It’s—he’s—intoxicating.
He looks over at me and smiles. “Good morning, Catherine.”
“Good morning, Mr. Cole.” I smile and look at Piper. “Good morning, Piper. Nice to see you in a color other than nude.” The last thing I wish for her is a good morning. However, pleasantries are necessary, and I refuse to let her to take yet another thing from me. But I allow myself the small dig.
She snorts and rolls her eyes.
Bitch.
Jackson doesn’t notice her catty behavior. He sits at the head of the table with Piper to his left and me in the chair on his right. He’s so close. I can feel the heat radiating from him.
“Okay, let’s get started,” Jackson says.
We spend the next hour debating and discussing the best way to present the soon-to-be-released makeup line. Piper tries to undermine my opinion at every turn, but I hold my ground. Jackson sits back and interjects only when he feels the need. It seems more like a volleyball game than a meeting. After another hour, she’s finally done arguing and agrees with my vision on how to get the company on track.
“Well, ladies, I think we’re about done here. It’s been rather entertaining.” Jackson chuckles and stands, gathering his papers as he does.
Piper leans over to him, trying to keep her voice down. “Mr. Cole, I really think we should talk privately about our options.”
A flash of irritation cross his face as he gruffly replies, “Piper, aga
in, I’m well aware of your opinion and the answer is no.” Jackson meets my eyes and grins.
I sigh and flush with embarrassment.
“Mr. Cole—”
He raises his hand to stop me. “I asked you to call me Jackson.”
Piper stands there slack-jawed with her arms crossed.
“Yes, sorry. Jackson, I’ve arranged everything for Friday’s trip—”
“My secretary will send you the details. I’ve already arranged to have a car pick you up and take you to the airport. You won’t need to worry about anything.” He tucks his materials under his arm and pushes in his chair to leave. As he approaches the door he stops, turns to me, and smirks. “Expect to have dinner while we’re there.” He winks and exits.
Dinner. Of course. I’m never going to avoid this man. He’s going to take full advantage of our time together in Virginia. There is no escaping him. If he’s persistent enough, I may not be strong enough to resist him. I’m barely hanging on as it is. Except there’s the small problem that he’s my client, and I could lose everything I’ve worked for if anything happens between us.
A cough breaks me from my thoughts and I realize I’ve been staring at the door. I look to see Piper glaring at me. “Are you dating him?” she asks in a condescending tone.
“Excuse me?” I stand so I’m eye level with her, looking at her incredulously. Surely she isn’t talking to me like that.
“I asked if you were dating Jackson Cole.” She walks toward me and places her hands on the table, leaning in. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for my response.
My eyes widen at her challenge. I glare right back at her with unadulterated hate. “You’re insane—and a whore, but we’ll revisit that in a minute. Are you seriously talking to me right now?” I’m seething. My body is shaking at her asinine question. She slept with my fiancé and now she’s going to stand here and give me shit? I don’t think so.
“I’m just surprised, Catherine. Is that how you beat out Neil for this account? His numbers were flawless. He deserves to be here, not you,” Piper states, tilting her head to the side as she narrows her eyes accusingly.
Beloved (The Belonging Series) Page 7