“Jane,” he says, as he reaches me, the sound of his voice washing over me like a warm waterfall, even though it’s strained. Impatient. “I was hoping I’d find you here.” His gaze travels down to my toes, up my legs, hips, breasts, returning to my face with significantly more heat. “Can we talk somewhere privately?”
Yes.
I want to crawl to him. Tell him I’ll follow him anywhere.
But I can’t forget that frisson of alarm I felt yesterday, after we made love. This isn’t a man who needs to feel jealousy. This isn’t a man who is intimate in public or calls his bed partner a whore. Or a slut. And yes, I loved it. I love him calling me those names. I begged him to. It makes me feel naughty and hot. Like I was built with one purpose—his pleasure. But it also gives me the punishment, the shame I deserve, and he doesn’t even know he’s delivering it. That isn’t fair. I’m not being fair by seeking that glorious humiliation from him.
He should be with someone who is mentally healthy.
I’d probably murder her in her sleep, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
Being alone with him could prove dangerous, as much as I crave it. He’s my boss, though, at least for now. What choice do I have but to risk speaking privately with him?
“Sure.” I stoop down to pick up my clipboard and hear Byron hiss a breath, probably because he can see down the front of my dress. Against my better judgment—of which I am in very short supply these days—I allow myself a few seconds to linger. To savor the sensation of his eyes caressing my breasts, pushed up in their red satin bra. My attention drifts to his lap, to the growing bulge there, and I straighten once more with a pulse pounding between my legs. “We can talk outside.”
“Great,” he rasps, swallowing. “Lead the way.”
We walk through the sea of movement, through workers arranging partitions, foliage and lights, exiting through a side door. As soon as we’re outside and the exit door closes behind us, Byron has me in his arms, his mouth moving over mine in a frenzy. Once again, my clipboard clatters to the ground and I kiss him back, desperate. So desperate. His taste travels through me like a drug, enlivening my system, my nerve endings. Big hands find my hips, quickly dropping lower to slide up beneath the hem of my dress, running over my outer thighs, scraping up my buns and clutching them tight. “Byron,” I whimper, words getting stuck in my throat. Tell him who you are. Stop deceiving him.
“Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” He backs me further into the shadows, breathing heavily against my lips. “Did I not…was it not good for you yesterday?”
I’m almost too stunned to respond. “Not good for me? You are…it w-was heaven.”
His eyelids drift closed in his relief. “It was heaven for me, too, Jane.” He rolls his forehead against mine. “I want to go back there. I need you.”
There is no way, not a single chance, that I can say no to Byron when he says I need you. He’s my world, my infatuation, the very breath in my lungs. My conscience is being drowned out by the utter bliss it gives me to hear him admit he needs me out loud. “Then take me.” I hold on to his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist, slowly rubbing my sex on his erection, purring against his parted lips. “Hard as you want, baby.”
He moans, the sounds stuttered by panting breaths. And he tilts his hips upward, biting his lip as I give him a standing lap dance. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“It’s even better inside,” I whisper, grinding, licking at his mouth.
“Yes. It will be.” His swallow is audible, regret stealing across his features suddenly. “But it’ll have to be after I take you to lunch.”
Confusion punches a hole in my lust. “Lunch? What do you mean?”
“I made reservations for lunch. You and me.” He slides his fingers into my hair, holding my head steady so he can peruse me. A moment passes while he searches for words. “When you left yesterday, I realized I didn’t know where you lived. I didn’t know if you were upset. Or scared. And I had no way of finding out. I’d just…those things I said to you, I needed to care for you afterward and I couldn’t do that. I haven’t felt fucking complete since you walked away.”
My mouth won’t move. Words won’t come out. I’ve never felt more exposed, more vulnerable in my life. What is happening here? “S-so you want to take me to lunch a-and comfort me?”
“Yeah. Is that crazy?” His lopsided smile almost causes my heart to detonate. “I want to know everything about you, Jane.” His entire body seems to flex, his upper lip stiff when he says, “Everything.”
Oh God.
This is even worse than I thought.
I am deceiving this man. I am turning him into a twisted mess, like me.
And he wants to give me legitimacy.
Wants to take me out on a date, maybe even wants me to be his girlfriend. Lord, the very idea of that is intoxicating. A dream I never thought could really come true.
It’s further proof that he’s too kind, too honorable for me.
“No.” I drop my legs from around his waist, stepping away on shaky ground. “I have a lot of work to do here, Byron. And…” My hands wring together, misery lancing me in the side. “And I just don’t think that it’s a good idea. I’m not looking for anything serious.”
Liar. You would throw yourself in front of a bullet for him.
It doesn’t get more serious.
Byron’s brows draw together above the black frames of his glasses, as if he’s going through a math problem, looking for where he made a mistake. And he doesn’t find one. “You’re not looking for anything serious?” he repeats, his skepticism obvious. “Don’t lie to me, Jane. You show up in my regular coffee shop, hoping to see me. To fuck me up and make me crazy. Right? You kiss me like you’d rather die than stop for a breath.”
“Listen to what you’re saying. I showed up in your neighborhood to make you crazy. Make you need me. Do you think that’s normal? Do you think that’s healthy?”
“No. Probably not.” He backs me further into the shadows, his shoulders blocking everything behind the building. Trees, the sun. “Is it healthy that I edged myself all night thinking of you, stroking right until I couldn’t take anymore, then stopping? Refusing the come unless it’s in your sweet little pussy?” He takes a deep breath, his pupils dilating, chest heaving. “Is it healthy that I offered free software to your company so I can install spyware on your computer? To watch what you’re doing and who you’re speaking with? Sent the proposal this morning. So yeah…” My back hits the wall and he leans down, pressing his mouth to the leaping pulse at the base of my neck. “You’ve fucked me up and made me crazy. Now you’re going to live with the consequences.”
Dizziness rocks me. Is this really happening? He’s…stalking me now? My body is flooded with ecstasy, so heavy I can barely remain upright. I could sink, sink, sink into this and never come up for air. I could addict him to me, same as I’m addicted to him, but no. No, I can’t do that to this beautiful human whose life I helped turn upside down. I’ve done enough to wreck his existence, I can’t engage him in this sick, filthy co-dependency. When he tries to flatten me against the wall, I stave him off with two hands to the chest. “Byron, listen to me. You can still get out of this without being ruined.”