She pushed the pencil behind her ear, and surprisingly, it didn’t disturb the carefully coiffed bun on her head. With the island heat, keeping her long tresses up was a necessity, she thought, fanning herself with a hand, and yet still didn’t get any relief. Now, she begrudged her earlier decision of opening the study window. It’d certainly admitted more than enough warmth. And now hours later, even with the air stirring in the room, it still seemed slightly muggy.
Maybe just maybe she’d been a little particular about her attire this morning, she thought, tugging on the yellow floral skirt. Since working side by side with Jarrod all day and acting secretary, she wanted to play the part in every way. Not to mention that she was unconsciously trying to steal his attention, the little niggling voice returned.
Still mentally arguing with herself, she crossed the room while loosening the third button on the white short-sleeved blouse. Not too much skin was showing, she deduced, taking a fast look. Only if one were playing close introspection would they notice the edges of the peach-hue lace brassiere peeking from the top.
And that certainly wouldn’t be Jarrod, she pondered, confused as to why she was disappointed. Hadn’t they both agreed not to rush things and just let them happen naturally? Now, privately, she wondered if that was a good thing, especially since he was all that she thought about, she mulled, leaving the study.
When she reached the kitchen, she met Rosa’s singing voice and freshly baked goods.
“OMG, you are truly after my heart,” she teased, inhaling a whiff of the just baked chocolate chip cookies. “I swear that I could eat the entire batch myself. Where’s your little helper? I’m surprised that she’s not down here stuffing her sweet little tummy full.”
The housekeeper smiled. “If you’re looking for Meghan, you’re wasting your time. The poor thing went out like a light after helping me put the chocolate chips on,” Rosa said, wiping her wet hands on the kitchen towel. She began to scoop the cookies on a platter with the spatula. “Grab a few----take some for a snack while you work today.”
She snatched a cookie from the platter. “Hmmmm,” Olivia said between chews. “These are sooooo good. Has anyone ever suggested that you become a celebrity cook? You are more than an awesome chef. In these last weeks, I bet that I’ve gained at least 10 pounds.”
Rosa scoffed. “Now, you’re really boosting my ego, worse so than Jarrod. The boy’s always boasting about my culinary skills.”
“Where is Jarrod, by the way?” she asked, stealing a stool at the counter, and tried not to appear too eager. “He’s been pretty scarce today.”
“Tell me about it. After a few quipped questions about lunch and dinner, he just disappeared,” Rosa replied, taking a seat herself, and then sighed. “I really worry about him sometimes---well all of the time.”
“Is everything alright with him?” she asked with concern. She looked away from the woman at her next words. “These past few days, he’s been kind of standoffish---I mean he’ll barely give me the time of day.”
“Try not to be hurt by that. The poor man has so much to deal with, and it’s hardly any wonder that he gets any rest at all,” Rosa sighed again, giving her a close look. “And how are you faring here? I realize that it can’t be easy.”
“Some days are harder than others, and while that’s so, I still feel this strange sense of peace,” she confessed. “This place---it just feels like home. I can’t explain it, but I feel like I belong here.”
“With Jarrod?” the housekeeper probed, and then an embarrassed flush crept up her face. “I’m sorry, Olivia. It’s none of my business. I don’t even know why I said that.”
“It’s okay,” she said, flushing red herself. “I mean, you’re a part of our lives here, so it’s only natural that you have questions. Jarrod and I are---” she paused for a moment. “Let’s just say that we’re taking the time to learn one another again.”
“Jarrod is a complicated man, and he’s always been even as a child,” Rosa answered, studying her hard. “If you’re looking for shades of only black and white, you’ll definitely end up disappointed. But, I don’t get the sense that you think in such a narrow scope anyway.” The woman stood up. “I’ve been watching you, Jarrod, and Meghan----you all need each other. Hopefully, together, you can all find the happiness you deserve.” Her smile was quick. “Now, I’m going to check on Meghan and try to get some work done.”
“Any idea of where Jarrod could be?”
“Try the basement area,” Rosa called from the doorway before promptly disappearing.
Jarrod, complicated, she thought, several minutes later, descending the steep stairs to the basement area. That was putting it mildly. He was more like an intricate puzzle that was hard to piece together. Just when she believed that she’d figured him out, he’d reveal a new side to his persona.
The Chill step music greeted her as she went further down. When she met the bottom step, she stopped before looking around the enormous room with interest.
If there ever were a man cave, this was it, she mulled, trailing away from the stairs. A 65’ plasma television covered the center of the brick wall. Underneath it, the mahogany-hued TV stand housed a stereo system, DVD disc player, system, and a score of DVDs, CDs, and video games.
But, he certainly wasn’t here, she thought, bypassing the custom black leather sofa and followed the sound of the hard grunts coming from the far side of the room. As she veered around the corner, she halted in surprise.
A boxing ring obliterated the space, and along the bottom platform, the University of East Georgia’s logo was striped along it. The punching bag was not too far off from it and dangled solo in the corner, along with a speed bag. A few yards away, a glass console case held a number of collegiate trophies, plaques, and championship belts. On the far side of the ring, mirrors spanned the wall from floor to ceiling.
Dumbstruck, she stared at the reflection in the mirror.
A hot, sweaty, Jarrod…shadowboxing.
Oh….my….gosh….she mouthed the words silently, sliding an appreciative glance along him, and stood rooted to the spot.
Simply put, he was---
Hot…as…hell---
His dark hair was dripping wet from exertion.
The sweat glistened on his bare skin…
She inhaled a sharp breath.
The navy blue boxing shorts molded his hips.
Somehow, she managed to cross the room.
She paused alongside the ring.
Rather than disturbing him, she watched.
With smooth precision, he executed a well-timed series of jabs and punches as he moved across the hardwood floor. So absorbed he was, he hadn’t noticed her yet.
But, she was dead wrong.
Their gazes locked in the mirror.
She held her breath, transfixed by the connection that they made in that very moment. Finally, she had to look away, if only for her sanity and hers alone.
“You didn’t tell me that you boxed,” she said in a rush, rooted to the spot, and her heartbeat thudded out of control as he sauntered towards her in his sexy gait. When he stopped directly in front of her, she literally stopped breathing. “I have to say that you’re quite good at it.”
He gave a roguish grin. “I’ve been told that a time or so,” he murmured, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of a glove, and blew a hard breath. Still, the sweat dripped from his dark hair, making him all the sexier. “During my collegiate tenure at the University of East Georgia, I was one of the fiercest competitors on the boxing team. I’ve got the medals and belts to back me up.”
“You boxed in college?” she asked, and the words almost sounded like a squeak, mainly because she was too distracted.
She swallowed hard.
Oh, how she just wanted to trace every contour of that hard body.
“I believe that’s what I just said,” Jarrod muttered, raising a brow. “Again, I boxed during the college years, and it took a long time for me to realize
that I was doing it just to irritate my mother and father….I guess that you could say that I was quite rebellious even at that point in my life. While I was ass-deep in it, I never really wanted to box professionally at all. …”
His words became lost in the translation.
Mesmerized, she watched as his lips moved.
Heavens, she breathed, hearing her own small gasp. He was simply sex-on-a-stick….
Finally, her thoughts adhered to his words again.
“……..When I bought the villa here, I moved all this stuff from the States. Still, I guess some small part of me can’t leave it behind. I guess that you could call it my pastime or means of escapism. Not only that, it’s become my main workout method or when I need to blow off some extra steam,” Jarrod said, and a wicked gleam shone in his green eyes as they flicked over her. “I’ve been finding that I’ve needed to do that a lot lately.”
“Really?” she said as a blush stained her face. “I suppose that’s understandable considering that you’ve been so involved with all these new business proposals. That’d stress anyone out.”
Using his teeth, he snagged the end of the boxing glove before tugging it off, and again, she resisted the urge to mew like a feral cat.
“That among other forbidden and unspeakable things,” he hinted, pulling the other glove off, and she easily caught the innuendo. After dropping them in a nearby chair, he snagged the towel from it. “What brings you down here, anyway?”
Her unspoken words held at the tip of her tongue.
Well, you’ve been avoiding me for days…
But, instead, she said, “Mr. Hamilton called and left a message.”
After wiping more sweat from his face, he looped the towel around his neck and then held both ends with each hand.
Her eyes flicked over him again.
Hot as hell personified ten-fold---
Breathe idiot, she hissed to herself silently, still staring.
No point in him knowing that she was completely ga-ga over him!
He raised a fast brow. “Hamilton left a message? Is that so?” Jarrod inquired, and to her secret delight, he stepped closer to her. “What’d he say?”
“Ummmm, it’s right here,” she said, flustered, lifting the note, and thankfully her hand was steady as she passed it. But, still, she fought to control her shiver as his warm hand brushed hers.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jarrod muttered with an arrogant smile, crumpling the note in his hand and dropped it to the floor. “The bastard caved in like I knew he would.”
“But, you didn’t even read it all!” she said, surprised. “How could you possibly know what he wants?”
He grabbed the boxing gloves from the chair. “Oh, trust me. I know exactly what he wants. As a matter of fact, he has played directly into my hands. Now, I will get what I want: a lucrative multi-year $5,000,000 shipping deal. The next time there’s contact with Hamilton, we’ll be drawing up an ironclad contract.”
Fascinated, she trailed behind him.
“Are you that good at reading people?” she asked, stopping beside him at the punching bag. “That you can turn any situation to your favor?”
He shrugged. “By identifying a man’s weaknesses, you can measure his strengths easily. It’s always the unsaid or unspoken that speaks the absolute truth.” As he turned towards her fully, a dangerous gleam shone in his green eyes. “Like now, I can read you. The truth is that you need to loosen up a bit and relax. Since you’re obviously on a break, I think that it’s the perfect time for a workout.”
The stereo switched songs.
A slow, hypnotic, and sensual beat played.
And it hit the right tempo…
To touch or kiss a lover---
Make love---
With every perfect note, wouldn’t a skillful lover know when to thrust deep---
She struggled to keep her mental bearings.
“Me…box?” she asked, making a breathless sound. But, at his serious expression, she saw that he wasn’t. “You have to be kidding me.”
“Actually, I’m not.”
She lost her last breath as he stepped closer.
And would even a breath fit between, she thought, dazed, especially since their bodies nearly touched? If it did, she failed to breathe it in.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, focusing on a single bead of sweat on his chest. Even the crystalline drop of moisture bowed to his daring mastery.
“Relax, my little Jane Doe. I’m just removing your little weapon of choice before we begin,” he teased, tracing along the edges of her face, and it was feather light. Still, the thrilling sensation chased her senses from head to toe. “Besides that, ebbing away your tension beforehand is a must. That’s the first rule of any workout.”
His warm fingers brushed against her earlobe as he removed the pencil from behind it. Every sensitive pinpoint in the delicate flesh was stimulated by the innocent touch. Or was it a lethal touch instead?
Perhaps he sensed her inner struggle---
Understood her deep need to understand and not be afraid of her own forbidden want and desire---
Was his mission to cripple her sensual resolve so openly, yet subtly?
Somewhere, within her scattered thoughts, she heard the pencil clatter against the floor.
The heat spread through her.
Again, she fought to breathe.
His words were husky and low. “Take your shoes off.”
Closer than close---
That’s how close he was to her.
So much so that his masculine scent was overpowering her, making her envision the naughtiest thoughts, she mulled, flushing red, and still didn’t look at him directly.
Her word was barely audible “What?”
“Like I said, you need to relax,” Jarrod muttered, already going down on one knee. “And I’m the man to help you do just that.”
Was this how all the princesses felt about their daring princes, she mulled, staring down at his bent head as he grabbed her right foot. Eager, elated, and scared all at once?
With a careful slowness, he pulled the ½ inch heel off, and as his warm hand closed around her foot, she feared that she’d collapse.
Dazed, she embraced the forbidden pleasure.
The feel of his touch against her bare skin…
It was too much to bear.
But, too potent to turn away from, she realized, entranced.
“Never understood a woman’s penchant for high-heels. I’m certain that walking around on them all day has to make your feet hurt,” Jarrod said, massaging her heel, and stared up at her all the while. Now, a dangerous glint shone in his green depths, one that she couldn’t even begin to identify. “But, then again, I have to admit that they actually add an appeal that can be deadly to a man’s senses. No doubt, they also lend a sexiness that can’t be explained. Depending on circumstances, it can only heighten the allure further.”
Breathless, at a loss for words, she stared back.
“Relax,” he whispered, sliding his hand upward, and then began massaging her calf. As he caressed the delicate skin, oh so softly, she shivered. “You’re so fucking tense that I’m afraid that you’ll break.”
A lover’s caress…
One so sinful and intimate that it’d shatter any resolve.
As she inhaled a shaky breath, she shuddered.
His eyes flickered with interest.
“I know better than anyone how working long hours can make you uptight and tense,” he rasped, caressing the back of her leg in a slow circular motion. “Is that better?”
“Y-yes,” she nodded in a daze.
“I think that I’ve found a tight spot…I’m going to hit it hard,” he murmured, and his sexy grin was deadlier than any weapon. Then, taking three fingers, he massaged the back of her calf with well-timed strokes, leaving no doubt that she was in the hands of an expert lover. “Release that tension right in my hands. How does that feel?”
“G-good,” she stammered, blushing under his intense stare.
The music drummed harder.
Pulsated against the brick walls with a seemingly impending madness…
Her flesh was on fire.
She couldn’t see past the haze.
If there were any such thing as fiery danger, he wielded it in his hands.
Under his touch, her muscles turned fluid, and the forbidden sensations running through her now were too pleasurable to identify, she mulled, trembling as he grasped her other foot.
“Your skin…it’s flushed and warm,” he murmured huskily, pausing midway a deep stroke and settled his green eyes on her again. A hint of a devilish smile played at his lips as he resumed his deep massage. “Is the air working upstairs?”
Oh, there was definitely a reason why she was heated---
“W-what?” she stammered instead, grasping the front of the skirt with a shaky hand, and struggled against her rising desperate need. Still, the deep moan threatened to break free from its restraints. If he continued, she doubted that she could hold it in much longer.
In fact, wasn’t she about to be a wanton woman by inching the skirt even more, pleading with him to drive her pleasure even higher?
The intrusive thought made her more breathless.
As he stroked the delicate flesh alongside her shin, she shivered, and his eyes darkened as she did. There was no denying his reaction to her. The blatant truth played on his handsome face though he fought to mask it. “I asked if the air conditioning off.”
“No,” she whispered, grateful that he’d looked down again. For if he hadn’t, wouldn’t he’d have noticed her desperation? “Why?”
“You’re hot as hell…” he breathed, massaging her calf, looking at her again with the same dangerous glint in his eyes. “….I mean, your skin feels like fire. I hope that you’re not coming down with a fever.”
Fever?
No…
Hot as hell?
Most definitely yes…
Probably wet, too, she mulled, distracted.
That is if the moisture between her thighs now was an indication---
Again, she fought to think straight.
“I hardly doubt it’s a fever. But, earlier, I did open the windows in the study for a little while,” she managed to say, biting her lip, and again forced back the ragged moan. Now, he’d reached the area behind her knees. By gads, not even she realized that it was such an erogenous zone of pleasure. “The study did become quite muggy, and it hasn’t cooled off fully.”
The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) Page 11