Page 85 of Charming Deception

I exhale.

Shit. This man.

Have I ever met anyone so freaking magnetic in all my life?

Nope.

My life has been spent in Crooks Creek, so no wonder. But still. No offense to Cole and Troy; they both come from where I do, and they’re both attractive men. Hot men. I can admit that, even when one is my brother and the other hurt me immeasurably.

But Jameson Vance is a whole other conundrum.

It’s ridiculous how little I actually breathe around the man. And now I’ve agreed to sleep in his bed.

Brilliant.

Maybe I’ll die at the age of twenty-seven from lust-induced lack of oxygen.

I move around the bathroom, acquainting myself with the amenities. I poke my head into the room with the toilet, and he wasn’t kidding. It’s bigger than Nicole’s whole bathroom. Plenty of room to change in privacy.

When I go back into the walk-in closet, I stay tucked into my side, out of the line of sight from the bed. I open my bags and unpack my cosmetics, and put them in the bathroom. Then I return to my suitcase to find a fresh pair of panties and my nightshirt. While doing so, I unpack all my clothes, hanging a few things on hangers and tucking the rest into drawers.

It doesn’t take long.

In the bathroom, I turn on the shower. I wish I could close a door. But by the time the water is nice and warm, I’ve gotten over it.

He said he wouldn’t come in here, that he’d be in bed. I have to believe him if this whole arrangement is going to work.

I slip the straps of my sundress over my shoulders and slide the whole thing down. Then I unclasp my bra and peel it off, and slip off my panties. All the while, I watch myself in the full-length mirror on the wall.

Wondering if Jameson would like what he sees.

If he walked in, to watch me in the shower…

There’s nothing wrong with my body. Men’s eyes tell me so, without their words even having to.

But Jameson is so… powerful. Not only is he physically outstanding himself, he’s a wealthy man, and that gives him the opportunity to have his pick of women. According to Nicole, he’s been with some famous beauties.

It’s so hard to face the mirror and not just see Megan from Crooks Creek. I’ve only ever been loved by one man, a man who, in truth, didn’t actually love me. And that man did so many numbers on my self-esteem, I’m still trying to rewrite the script that he etched into my heart with his hurtful words.

In the end, he told me he wasn’t attracted to me anymore.

It would’ve hurt so much more if I hadn’t fallen so out of love with him by then, so out of trust, that I didn’t even know if I could believe him.

My gaze wanders down, to the soft flesh between my legs. It’s so strange to think of a new man looking at me there, touching me, when only Troy had ever done that.

What would Jameson’s touch feel like?

Would he be slow and careful? Fast and hungry? Would he be bossy, aggressive and alpha, taking what he wanted in a way that satisfied me so completely that I didn’t even care? Or would he be tender, seeking out all the ways to drive me wild, before he took his fill?

Maybe he’d be all those things, depending on the mood, the situation. And the woman. How attracted to her he was. How impatient he was to have her.

How much he wanted to please her.

I’m dying to touch myself just to pretend it’s him, exploring my body for the first time with his fingers…

Shit. Stop thinking about that.

Thinking about that, knowing Jameson is lying in his bed and I’m about to go lie in that bed with him, is making my core ache, and sucking all my attention to it.

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