The Stopover

by Swan, T L

  She laughs. “No, it’s okay. I completely know what to do now. Passing out is well worth it. You stay on that shit—we just need to tourniquet it. I’ve got us covered.”

  We both laugh and then fall silent.

  “Three days,” I murmur.

  “Three days,” she repeats.

  God, I’ve never been so anxious to get home in my life.

  “What are you doing now?” I ask.

  “I’m about to put a face mask on and take a bath with cut-up cucumber over my eyes. You’re missing out on a real visual sensation over here.”

  “No doubt.” I smile. This woman is so naturally beautiful. She doesn’t try to be something she’s not. I love that about her.

  I love a lot of things about her . . .

  “So you’ve added cucumbers to your beauty regimen now?” I ask.

  “Yeah, it’s supposed to make you less puffy.”

  I smile broadly. “Cucumbers are good for a lot of things. Maybe it should be added to our sexual regimen as well.”

  She bursts out laughing. “You’re a sicko, Mr. Miles.”

  “So you keep telling me.”

  “I’ll let you go.”

  I smirk as I look out the window. “Goodbye, Emily.”

  “Goodbye, Jay,” she whispers. The phone goes dead, and I head back into the boardroom and take a seat.

  Christopher is now talking about something, and I take my seat next to Elliot.

  He leans over and whispers, “You have Zuckerberg on speed dial now?”

  “Huh?” I frown.

  “FB . . . that stands for Facebook, right?”

  I frown and then realize he’s talking about the call from Emily.

  FB stands for fuck bunny, not Facebook. I smirk, and then I pinch the bridge of my nose as my chuckle breaks through.

  “What’s so funny?” Elliot whispers.

  “Zuckerberg bought motorized sneakers.”

  Elliot rolls his eyes. “It wouldn’t surprise me. That guy’s fucking crazy.”

  I catch a cab with a thousand thoughts running through my mind. There’s so much history between the two of us. I’m on my way to see my ex, who was supposed to be the love of my life.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Claudia. She was in the States the last time I was in London. Both being workaholics has always worked against us—time together is precious.

  I knock on the door and exhale; my nerves are thumping heavily. The door opens in a rush, and her beautiful face comes into view. She smiles broadly and wraps her arms around my neck.

  “Thank God you’re here,” she whispers into my neck. “I’ve missed you.”

  Chapter 16

  “Hello.” I smile as she leads me into her house by the hand. Her touch is warm . . . familiar. “How are you?” I ask.

  “Good now that you’re here.” She takes me in her arms, and I smile down at her. There’s a bond between us that can never be broken. Realizing what I’m doing, I pull out of her arms and stand back. Being in her arms wasn’t on today’s agenda.

  Her face falls before she quickly recovers. “Any news on the sabotage?”

  “No, none yet.”

  She watches me for a moment, and her knowing eyes hold mine. “You have something on your mind. What is it?”

  “I’ve met someone.”

  “Don’t.” She turns her back to me and walks to the kitchen and puts the kettle on.

  “I couldn’t help it.” I walk up behind her and put my hand out to touch her and then recoil it. I take a safe step back.

  “Don’t tell me you couldn’t help it when we both know you can.”

  “The pull to her is strong.”

  “Physical pull?” she asks flatly.

  I roll my lips as I watch her; she’s going to go postal any moment. “At first, yes. I thought it was just physical.”

  Her eyes come to mine. “How long ago did you meet her?”

  “Twelve months.”

  Her face screws up in fury. “You’ve been seeing someone for twelve months?”

  “No,” I snap. “I met her on a flight a year ago, we spent a night together on a layover, and I’ve recently run into her again.”

  “Big deal, Jameson. You’ve slept with a lot of women while we’ve been on this break,” she fires back angrily.

  “This one’s different, Claudia,” I say softly.

  She rolls her eyes in disgust and turns her back to me once again.

  “I’ve thought of her”—I pause, unsure how much to share—“a lot since we met, and then it was as if I . . .” My voice trails off, and I stare at her back as I wait for her reply.

  “As if you what?” she eventually asks.

  “It was as if I willed her back into my life.”

  She turns sharply. “Meaning what?”

  “She’d been on my mind a lot . . . and then she showed up in my office.”

  She rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “Of course she would—you’re Jameson Miles.”

  “She had no idea who I was when we met. I gave her a fake name.”

  “So why are you here, Jameson?” she demands.

  I swallow the lump of regret in my throat. “I’m here to end it with you.”

  “Don’t you.” She points at me. “Don’t you dare throw away everything we’ve worked so hard to keep together.” Her eyes fill with tears.

  “Claud.” I sigh softly. “We’re no good together. We’re both workaholics, we live on other sides of the world, and unless one of us loses our job, that’s never going to change. I can’t be anywhere but New York.”

  “What if I moved back?” she offers.

  “And give up your dream job?” I sigh. “I wouldn’t let you do that for me. I know how hard you’ve worked for this job.”

  She stares at me, and I take her in my arms. “You need to fall in love with someone who can support you in your role.”

  “I have,” she whispers as she clings to me.

  I close my eyes as I kiss her temple. “Two people who are wired the same way can’t be in a forever relationship. We need to be with opposites, Claud.” I squeeze her a bit tighter. “Two workaholics will never work. We’re both too focused and too stressed out to properly look after one another.”

  She stares at me, and I know that deep down, she knows I’m right. Her eyes well with tears. “What happened to our five-year plan?” she whispers.

  “It was good in theory, but come on. We both knew when we made the break that there was a big chance we wouldn’t make it through to the other side.”

  “I’ll move back,” she pleads.

  My eyes hold hers, and I know there’s no easy way to say this. “It’s too late. I have feelings for Emily. It’s her that I want now.”

  Her face screws up in anger. “Emily, is it?” she sneers.

  I clench my jaw as I watch her.

  “Who is she? What does she do?”

  “She’s just a normal girl from the suburbs.”

  She rolls her eyes in disgust. “You . . . with a normal girl? Ha, what a joke. I suppose she cooks and cleans and fusses over you and sucks your dick on command, does she?”

  I inhale to hold my anger deeply. “She’s good for me.”

  “I’m good for you,” she fires back.

  “As a work colleague or employee, yes—as a mate . . . not so much.”

  Her eyes fill with tears anew.

  “I’m not good for you.” I shrug. “I’m so busy that I can’t be there for you either. You deserve to be doted on, but I can’t do that from New York, Claud; you know I can’t. There is no way around this situation. Our lives are traveling on different paths. Two CEOs can’t hold their careers and nurture a relationship from different sides of the world. It’s an impossible task.” I pause as I try to articulate what I’m saying. “Until I met her . . . I didn’t realize what we were both missing out on. Both me and you.”

  Her eyes hold mine.

  “I wish it were you telling me you’d met
someone, so then I wouldn’t be saying this. I love you, and you’re the last person I want to hurt. I would much rather you hurt me.”

  She walks over and drops to the couch as she processes the information.

  I stay silent as I watch her.

  “So what now?” she asks.

  “I’m going home to move her into my apartment.”

  Her face falls. “What?”

  “And I will be announcing our relationship.”

  She drops her head in sadness. “What’s the rush?”

  “You know me—I’m all or nothing.”

  She screws up her face in tears. “Are you going to marry her?”

  I stay silent.

  “You asked me to marry you four weeks after we met. Are you . . .” Her voice trails off in hurt.

  I clench my jaw to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret. She drops her head, and I watch as she cries for a moment. I have to leave before she gets angry. “I’m going.”

  Her haunted eyes come to mine. “I love you,” she whispers.

  I smile sadly and take her in my arms. “I love you too.” We hold each other for an extended time. “Be happy,” I whisper into her hair.

  “How could I possibly be happy without you, Jameson?” she whispers. “Don’t go.”

  “I have to.”

  I pull out of her arms, and without another word I turn and walk out of Claudia’s terrace house. I get into the back of my waiting car and stare solemnly out the window as it pulls away.

  “Goodbye, Claudia,” I whisper as the scenery zooms by. “Fly high, baby.” I get a lump in my throat for all the good times we shared. “You deserve the best.”

  I sprint the last block. It’s four in the morning, and I’m running in New York.

  I love this city at night; it has a peace that daylight doesn’t deliver.

  Last night at the airport I had my fill of scotch and slept the entire flight home, and now I’m a ball of energy. My flight landed at two o’clock, too late to go to Emily’s . . . not that it’s stopped me from running here.

  I pant as I approach her building, and I stare up at it and go to the intercom. My finger hovers over her button. My chest rises and falls as I hesitate.

  It’s four o’clock, and she has to work tomorrow.

  Don’t be selfish.

  Fuck, I can’t help it with her—I am selfish. I want her around the clock.

  I walk out onto the street and stand at the gutter with my hands on my hips as I struggle for breath. Spits of rain begin to splatter, and I look up at the sky.

  I love running in the rain. It starts to really come down, and I turn back and look up at Emily’s building. I count the floors until I get to her windows.

  I imagine her sleeping in her bed with her long dark hair splayed across her pillow, her beautiful curvy body curled up like she does, and eyes that could talk me into anything.

  Tomorrow . . . well, today now.

  I smile up at her window as the rain really comes down, and I turn and begin the long run home.

  Tomorrow I start fresh with Emily Foster.

  Emily

  I walk through the security check with a spring in my step. Jameson got home last night. I get to see him today. I’m so excited that I even got up early and curled my hair, and I’m wearing my gray skirt in full swing.

  A week has never felt so long. I take the elevator up to my floor and sit at my desk.

  “Hey,” Aaron says over his coffee cup.

  “Hi there.” I smile.

  “What’s that look?” He smirks.

  “Jameson’s home.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Well, I hope he’s home. He called me from the airport, and he was all boozy, so I’m hoping he made it onto the plane.”

  I look over to see Hayden at the photocopying machine area. He’s talking to a group of girls. “How well do you know Hayden?” I ask.

  “Hmm.” He thinks for a moment. “Not that well. Molly knows him from her old job.”

  “Where was that?” I ask as I turn my computer on.

  “They worked at the Gazette together.”

  My eyes flick to him. “Molly worked at the Gazette?”

  “Yeah, for years. Miles Media headhunted her.”

  Shit. A sinister thought crosses my mind. No, not Molly. Don’t be stupid. It couldn’t be. Don’t even think that.

  Tristan and I tested the theory over the last week, and every time I gave Hayden a story before four o’clock, it was printed in the Gazette the next day. There’s definitely a correlation somewhere. Whether it’s Hayden or above him, we’re trying to find out.

  I really like Tristan; he’s funny and intelligent and a lot softer around the edges than his brother.

  “What happened with Paul last night?” I ask.

  “He turned up.” He looks at me sheepishly.

  “Oh God,” I mutter dryly. “Don’t tell me you slept with him.”

  He hits the keys on his computer with force. “Yep. I can’t resist that fucking asshole.”

  “Did you have it out with him yet?”

  “No. I want to catch him in the act.”

  “So why are you still fucking him?” I snap. “For God’s sake, Aaron, don’t be used.”

  “For the record, I’m using him.” He rolls his eyes as he sips his coffee.

  “Nobody’s dick is that good,” I huff.

  “Except his.” He sighs sadly.

  “Ugh.” I wince. “Leave me alone with the asshole for five minutes with a carving knife. I’ll get it for you to take away.”

  He laughs, and my phone rings. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Emily, this is Sammia.”

  “Oh, hi.” Excitement runs through me.

  “Mr. Miles would like to see you in his office right away, please.”

  A huge smile splits my face. “On my way.” I hang up and stand.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Oh, more training,” I lie.

  “Jesus, you’ll be more qualified than anyone on this floor soon.”

  “I know.” I smile. “Back soon.” I take the elevator up to the top floor, and the doors open. I can hardly keep a straight face.

  He’s here.

  I want to run.

  “Good morning, Emily.” Sammia smiles. “Just go through.”

  “Morning. Okay, thanks.” I walk through and down to Jameson’s office, and I knock on the door.

  “Come in,” his deep velvety voice calls.

  I open the door, and his eyes come to me with the best “come fuck me” look I’ve ever seen. My breath catches. Standing by the window in his navy suit and crisp white shirt, he is the ultimate male specimen. I forgot how gorgeous he is.

  He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” I breathe. I have to stop myself from running to him.

  The air crackles between us, and he walks to me and takes my face in his hands and kisses me, all suction and a little tongue. I feel my legs go weak at the knees.

  “I’ve missed my girl,” he murmurs against my lips.

  I smile, and he wraps my ponytail around his hand three times and pulls my head back aggressively. His thick tongue goes to my collarbone and licks up to my neck. “Have you missed me?” he asks as his teeth nip my neck. I wince as arousal runs through my blood like a river rapid. Jesus, the CEO is back in all his glory.

  “God, yes,” I breathe.

  He kisses me again, and the door opens. “Hey,” Tristan’s voice calls before he stops instantly.

  “Not now, Tristan,” Jameson says without letting my ponytail go. His dark eyes stay fixed on mine.

  My heart races at the way he’s looking at me. He’s different . . . more intense.

  “Sorry,” Tristan says before the door closes.

  He kisses me again, my head held back just as he wants me. “I want to make a go of this.”

  “Of what?” I breathe.

  “Of us.”

  �
��I thought we were?” I frown.

  “No. We were fucking before. Now I want you.”

  He bites my neck, and I whimper.

  “I want all of you.” His hand grabs my behind, and he pulls me against his waiting hard cock.

  Oh jeez . . . welcome home.

  I kiss his big lips. “Okay.”

  He holds my face in his hands and stares down at me as the air leaves my lungs. “Tonight. My place,” he breathes.

  I smile softly as my sex begins to throb in anticipation. “Yes.”

  “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

  “No, I want to cook. Do you have groceries?”

  His brow furrows. “I’ll get Alan to pick something up.”

  “No.” I frown. “I want to go to the grocery store.”

  His hands roam up and down my body as if he doesn’t know where to start. “Take the limo.”

  I screw up my face. “I’m not going to the grocery store in a limo.”

  He grabs my hand and places it over the huge erection in his suit pants, and I grab it as his eyes flicker in arousal. “I need you,” he breathes as he bites my bottom lip.

  “Oh God, me too.” I pull out of his grip as I pant. “I have to get back to work.”

  God . . . it would be so easy to stay here and fuck the boss instead.

  “I’ll have Alan deliver the car to you. You use it from now on.”

  “The car?” I frown. He has a car?

  “Just use it as your own.” His hands grind me onto his body. He’s completely preoccupied with arousal.

  “I only need it to do groceries just today. Don’t bother Alan. I can get it from your apartment.”

  “Our apartment.” He bites my neck as he really begins to eat me. Goose bumps scatter all over my body.

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll be moving in with me.”

  “What?” I pull out of his arms as my arousal fog temporarily lifts. “What did you say?”

  His dark eyes dance with delight. “If I’m doing this, I’m fucking doing this.”

  I stare at him. What the hell?

  “I don’t do things by half, Emily. If you’re with me, you’re with me.”

  “Jameson,” I whisper. “Have you gone crazy?”

  “I have meetings scheduled back to back all day, or I would be bending you over my desk right now.” He turns me around and slaps me on the behind. “Now get back to work before I do it.”