by Amelia Wilde
Three steps down the hallway, and Bryce appears, rounding the corner almost too fast for me to avoid him.
“Cate!” he cries, grasping my shoulders and pulling me in to kiss both my cheeks. “You look terrible!”
I laugh out loud. He’s probably right. I grabbed enough from the Closet to make it through the two days in LA, and I’m sure the bags under my eyes are too big to be covered by makeup. “It’s been a long week.”
“But you’re good to go. I saw Sandra leaving. I’ll be out of here too, as soon as I can get the final fitting on this outfit over with.” That explains the impatient seamstress.
“Don’t let me stop you!” I say, as quickly as I can without seeming rude. I do want to catch up with Bryce, but Jax is waiting.
“You owe me a coffee date,” he calls after me as I hurry down the hallway.
Pulling open the outer doors, I prepare to rush in and knock…but one of Jax’s inner doors is propped open already. He’s standing in the middle of his office, waiting, his mouth a thin line.
My heart pounds against my rib cage.
I step carefully into the room, and he moves behind me to close the door. The lock clicks into place.
We’re alone.
But instead of wrapping me in his arms like he did the last time, he steps around in front of me, his eyes hard and cold.
“Jax—I—”
“Mr. Hunter.” His tone is full of reprimand.
“Mr. Hunter…I wanted to talk about—”
He silences me by stepping forward, taking my face in his hands, and devouring my mouth with a kiss so hot I think I’ll melt right into the floor.
His lips crush into mine, his tongue explores my mouth, his hands are everywhere, on my waist, my breasts, the back of my neck. It lights every part of me on fire. The taste of him is pure sex, pure confidence, pure extravagance, and I want to taste him forever.
I moan into his mouth as he takes me in his arms, guiding me roughly until my back is pressed against the wall. One of his strong hands pins my wrists above my head, the other yanks my skirt up and rips my panties aside.
His mouth is still on me, nipping, licking the side of my neck, ravishing my lips.
When his fingers make contact with my folds I’m already soaked. He shoves two fingers inside, lowers his head to my ear. “Spread. Wider.”
I obey him without hesitation. What he’s doing to me is rough and hot and I can’t get enough.
He brings me right to the edge and then without a second to catch my breath sends me tumbling over, coming so hard on his fingers my vision blacks out.
Then, abruptly, he pulls his hand away and steps back, licking my juices from his fingers without breaking eye contact.
“We can stop meeting right now.” His voice doesn’t have a hint of a question.
And even in this moment, my muscles quaking from my explosive orgasm, my heart bursting with how much I want him, I can’t let go of the risk.
My voice is a choked whisper. “I don’t know.”
He steps closer, the manly scent of him filling my lungs. “If you’re not here tomorrow, I’ll consider our agreement void.”
Then he’s gone.
21
Jax
I force myself to walk away from Cate without looking back, but my stomach is in knots, my thoughts roiling in my brain.
She’s so unbelievably sweet…and so dirty, so hot for me that even though she’s terrified of getting fired she still can’t help herself. She still comes to the meetings and lets me pin her up against the wall and finger-fuck her until she explodes against my fingers.
You’re falling for her.
I shove the thought out of my head. Even if it’s true.
Especially because it’s true.
What I feel for Cate cannot be allowed to cloud my judgment.
At the same time, I can’t stop seeing her. Something in me demands it.
That’s exactly why we have the arrangement we do.
Thirty minutes.
Four weeks.
Four walls.
An end date with no exceptions.
The second you start making exceptions and ceding power, you’re setting yourself up for a fall.
I won’t even entertain the thought of makeup meetings for the two she missed while she was in LA. I won’t show her that kind of weakness. Not now, not ever.
Now that I’ve given her a perfectly clear idea of what she’ll be missing if she ends this now, before the month is up, there’s something else I need to do.
Prove to myself that when this is over, I’ll be able to go back to the person I was before. Wining and dining and fucking without a care in the world.
As Peter steers the car through the New York City streets, I ignore the activity on the sidewalks around me and pull out my phone.
Christian lets it ring three times before he answers.
“What the hell, Jax? You never call. This kind of girlish behavior isn’t like you.”
“We’re going out,” I shout into the phone, pumping my voice full of enthusiasm that I don’t feel. “I need to forget a girl.”
“You’ve never had trouble with that before.” He laughs into the phone.
On an impulse, I throw him a bone. “I’m in over my head with a woman from the magazine I acquired, if you must know, you asshole.”
“Say no more.”
“Meet me at the club at 9:00. Bring women.”
The Purple Swan is, without question, New York City’s most exclusive dining club. A membership here costs more than most people who consider themselves to be upper class make in six months. It doesn’t make a dent in my net worth.
And the food is amazing. This isn’t one of those places that charges a fortune for admission and then lets the details slip.
Christian brings a Victoria’s Secret model for himself. For me, he brings an heiress with auburn hair who could be a model. Both are vivacious and when they arrive at the table, each with a hand on one of Christian’s elbows, I think this might be the ticket. This could be the woman who helps me get my heart back where it belongs—out of the office, away from Cate.
Christian gives me a wink as he introduces the two women. “This is Charlotte,” he says, indicating his flawless date. “You probably saw her walk in this year’s VS Fashion Show. She’s an angel in real life, too.”
Charlotte swats him on the arm and sizes me up. Her blonde hair is either naturally that color or the dye job is the best I’ve ever seen. She’s practically glowing in a skintight black gown that gives new meaning to the black tie dress code.
I stand up and pull out a chair for my date, giving her a smile I know is a winner with virtually every woman. She does not disappoint.
“Vivian,” she says in a low, husky, lounge-singer voice that has my cock at attention.
“Hello, Vivian,” I say as she slides gracefully into her seat. “I’m so glad you could come.” I take my seat next to her, across from Christian.
This is going to be fun.
“Christian said you’re a bit of a loner, but I told him not to lie to me.” Her dark eyes are teasing.
“What makes you think I need constant company?”
“Let’s be honest with each other,” she says, smiling impishly. “You and Mr. Colt are always on the gossip sites online.”
I don’t confirm or deny it. Instead, I give her my signature half smile. She bites her lip. “Don’t believe everything you read.”
“Jax, tone it down—she has to keep her panties on in the club.”
“Lying doesn’t look good on you, Chris.”
We’re all laughing when the waiter comes with the first round of cocktails. Christian has picked the perfect women to spend the evening with.
I only have one complaint.
Neither of them are Cate.
By the end of the night, I’m tipsy from I don’t know how many drinks. The five-star chefs at the Swan sent plates to our table all night, and as the hours pa
ssed they got more inventive. Vivian and Charlotte called it quits long before Chris and I did, and now the food is sitting heavily in my stomach. I hate that feeling, hate how it’s a direct result of my own lack of self-control.
She’s getting to me.
We’re heading out the exit of the club, a small door on a less-traveled side street.
The relatively private exit is one of the selling points for the club’s clientele, so the last thing I expect is the flash of cameras in my face the moment we step onto the sidewalk.
“What the fuck?” I say angrily, shielding my eyes with my hands. Why the hell would the few remaining paparazzi in the city be interested in a dinner party on a Thursday night? There are far more interesting people to follow around than me.
One glance at Vivian tells me exactly why they’re here.
She doesn’t bother to look surprised. She tightens her grip on my elbow and holds her head high so they can get a clear shot of her face.
Christian shoots me a look over her head that tells me he didn’t know about this shit, and I believe him.
Vivian, for all her witty jokes, wanted more time in the gossip spotlight.
I’m not going to give her much.
Keeping my face completely blank, I head for the car and step in, Vivian following close behind me. Peter closes the door and comes around the car at a jog. He’s behind the wheel in a matter of seconds.
Once Vivian sees my face, the smile drops from hers.
“What’s your address?” I ask bluntly.
She rattles it off.
“Take us there, Peter. We’re just dropping off.”
22
Cate
Jax kissed me so hard, with so much pent-up need, that he bruised my lip. I can’t help testing it with my teeth every few minutes for the rest of the evening.
He left me standing in his office, my panties ruined from his attentions, and I stayed there, fingertips against my bottom lip, for longer than I should have.
If you’re not here tomorrow, I’ll consider our agreement void.
It sounded so serious, the way he said it. But I can’t pretend any more. It’s true; we didn’t sit down and sign some kind of contract. He asked, and I accepted. So far he’s kept up his end of the deal.
I’m the one who hasn’t.
Why? Why?
Because of your job, I tell myself as rationally as I can. Because of your career. Because there are things in life you need to work to avoid.
That’s not even an argument.
I drop my head into my hands.
It’s a month. It’s only a month. And at some point, I’ll need to let something else into my life other than work.
I do need this. I do need him.
I’m not going to waste another minute denying myself the raw pleasure of him. That’s all I’m ever going to get from Jax. He’s made that clear, over and over, and as a grown woman it’s unattractive to be so indecisive, so timid about taking what I want.
It shouldn’t be this hard, given how the demands of my job have sharpened my usual drive into a cutting point and made it simple for me to power through any work situation, handle any so-called emergency in the office.
I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow, I’m going to start taking advantage of the time I have left with Jax. Give myself to him, completely, and leave my feelings out of it.
Tomorrow, I’ll be on time.
At my session with Carl I’m on fire.
I tossed and turned the night away, my heart thundering like a jackhammer on speed. I’ve never wanted to wish my life away, but I wish I could get through this day, get to 5:00, get to Jax, and set everything straight.
Thank God Carl agreed to meet me on a Friday, after I missed Wednesday and Thursday.
“Jesus, Cate,” he says as we step off the mats, sweat running down his face. “What’s gotten into you? Did somebody piss you off yesterday at work?”
“In a way,” I say. That person was me. I’ve had enough of being so weak-willed, and I’m done with it.
I might have slightly overdone it during the workout, however, because my heart rate takes much longer than normal to come down. The edges of my vision seem blurred—pressurized, almost—but I’m determined to blink it away.
In the car on the way back to my apartment, I scan through my email.
Nothing there. I answered a lot of messages in my energetic frenzy last night, so the morning should be relatively peaceful. Knock on wood.
On a whim, I open one of the many social media apps on my phone. I used to be active with posting and sharing photos, but work takes up so much of my mind now that I hardly look at the feeds.
I’m scrolling through a sea of baby pictures and engagement announcements when I see it.
It’s an ad, judging by the “sponsored” tag at the top of the little box, but it must be an ad for a gossip site, because there’s a splashy, obnoxious headline beneath the picture.
It’s a picture of Jax.
He has his hand raised in front of his eyes, but the photog got a lucky angle, because his face is clearly visible. He’s looking down into the face of a woman with gorgeous red hair and a killer body, and she’s looking up at him, her eyes full of charm and focus.
I check the date.
So that’s where he went last night, after he left me.
My body feels numb.
It’s a ridiculous reaction. The agreement Jax and I have is explicit when it comes to the fact that there will be no relationship.
Stabbing my thumb against the screen of the phone, I back out of the app and stare out the window at the empty early-morning sidewalks instead.
This woman will have no effect on our deal. Not if I can help it.
One minute before 5:00, I take measured steps down the hall to Jax’s office, slip inside, and stand next to the opaque inner doors that separate us.
His voice seeps through the crack in the door—a phone call? I turn to leave, to give him his privacy, but something keeps me in my spot. He’s not trying to be quiet.
“Mom, it’s all right. This is where—”
A pause.
“He’s gone, Mom.”
Another pause.
“He’s not gone, he’s…unavailable. No, I don’t know when he’ll be back. Stay there. It’s the safest place for you.”
Several long moments.
“All right. All right. I’ll be there to visit soon, but he can’t come with me. I’m sorry. Yes. Chocolate. I love you, too.”
I wait, standing perfectly still, for at least a minute, then knock.
A few second pass before I hear his voice. “Come in.”
He remains seated as I approach his desk, his blue eyes locked on my face.
This is the moment.
I spent most of today planning out what I’m going to do, what I’m going to say. Instead of hovering in front of the desk, waiting for his instructions, I step around to the side, a few feet from his chair.
His eyes don’t betray even a hint of confusion.
I lower myself to my knees on the floor and look up at him, my breaths fast and unsteady. It’s like looking into the sun, but I force myself.
“Mr. Hunter,” I begin, my voice clear and strong, “I’ve made my decision, and—”
“Stop.” He holds up a hand, cutting me off.
“But I—”
“This arrangement is over, Ms. Schaffer.”
My cheeks go hot as the pit of my stomach freezes.
He can’t mean it.
He doesn’t mean it.
I can see it on his face, the way his muscles tense around his mouth, like he’s trying to keep his stony expression in place.
I’m open-mouthed, silent.
“It’s a risk for you professionally…and it’s not something I can continue.”
“But—”
“It’s over.”
My knees are shaky, weak, as I rise to my feet. “But why?”
He pushes himself to sta
nding, his fingers spread wide on the desk in front of him. “I can’t continue it. Neither can you. It’s over.”
I bite my lip, my chin quivering in spite of the herculean effort I’m putting in to keep the tears from spilling down my face. My shoulders tighten, burning. I needed the release he was going to give me, but I craved his closeness, his touch, even more.
He says something too quietly to hear.
“What?”
“Go. Go back to work. Just go.”
23
Jax
It doesn’t take fifteen minutes for me to realize that I’ve screwed up royally.
What clues me in is the raw, throbbing pain that settles in my chest when Cate walks out the door, her back perfectly straight, her chin up, her breathing even. The only thing that gives away her devastation is a single tear that clings to the edge of her eyelashes. A younger version of myself would have found something cynical to say about it, something biting, something caustic—women, and all their emotions—but I feel gutted, and I shouldn’t.
It was supposed to be sex. Orgasms. Never this. Never this hook-line-and-sinker feeling that blooms outward from my gut. She wasn’t supposed to have such power over me.
But she does. She does.
The look in her eyes when she walked in told me that she saw the pictures from last night. I don’t know how she could have missed them. It was New York City news on one of the internet’s biggest gossip sites, and those assholes run ads on every social media feed in the nation. She had to have known, had to have seen it. It was online before Peter parked the car outside of my building.
She knew, and she came anyway.
She bent her earth-shattering legs and got down on her knees, ready to beg for another chance at our deal.
That’s when I knew.