“But until she leaves she’ll be working on your account with me,” I said, forcing myself to focus on landing this deal. I’m not sure when I started to care about hurt feelings, and I didn’t like it. It certainly wasn’t how I’d gotten to where I was, and it wouldn’t get me to where I wanted to be.
Caring and feelings equaled weakness and being taken advan- tage of, and if I was going to take Craze to the next level and prove I deserved to keep on running the company to the board members, I couldn’t have any chinks in my armor. There were people who wouldn’t hesitate to take me down, the way they’d taken down my dad when he’d shown his soft underbelly. Despite my many accomplishments and how hard I’d busted my ass to achieve so much in such a short time, the elite business circle in Boston was a surprisingly small world, and being Jim Stone’s son was already one mark against me. One that made several board members hesitate when I was up for the position of CEO.
I needed to think about the big picture, the one I’d live with permanently. Needed to focus on fixing my dad’s legacy and leaving one behind that I could be proud of.
Between that need to win at all costs and the way that I was once again considering kicking Randall and telling him to stop ogling what was mine, I started to think that maybe I wasn’t quite as evolved as I’d claimed to be.
CHAPTER 10
Kat
As we walked out of the restaurant, Jameson put his hand on the small of my back, applying gentle pressure as he nudged me toward the left. “Guideline,” I said.
“No need for any new guidelines. You did great in there.”
I slowed my pace and turned toward him. “I wasn’t asking for more. I was pointing out the fact that you’re breaking one. For the third time today. Although I suppose the first one when you cupped my cheek was before we made the no-touching guideline, so I’ll let that one slide. But the knee-touch and this hand on the back thing, are definitely no-nos.”
“Your attention-to-detail skills are quite impressive,” Jameson said, his hand still on my back, radiating heat that spread farther the longer he touched me. “No need to improve on those.”
I shot him a look, and he just smiled, like he knew he could get away with whatever he wanted. Which reminded me, I was still mad at him for that stunt in the restaurant. I took a large step, out of his reach. “Oh, and I can order my own food, too, so why don’t we add that to the guidelines? Only I feel like you take guidelines as more of a suggestion, so maybe we should make it a rule.”
“Don’t tell me that steak wasn’t the best you’ve ever had.”
I wanted to, just to disagree with him, but the way it’d melted in my mouth in a burst of flavors and the fact that I’d practically licked my plate clean made it impossible to deny. “That’s not the point.”
He took a large step and returned his hand to the small of my lower back, nudging me down the sidewalk with gentle pressure and that same intoxicating heat that made my thoughts go fuzzy. “The point is, I hate you thinking you need to lose weight because it’d be a shame to mess with those perfect curves.”
“Easy for someone who doesn’t have any curves to say. I know you do more than walk to the coffee pot now and then.” Since we were apparently just breaking the no-touching guideline, I reached over and squeezed his biceps through his suit coat.
He shot me a smile and curled his arm up, flexing and trapping my hand in the crook of his elbow.
Damn. They’re even harder than I expected.
“Yep. Proof right here,” I said.
He returned his hand to my back, but instead of leaving it at that, he slid it around and hooked my hip, bringing me against him. “How can you be sure that’s not from how many times I lift the coffee pot?”
I tilted my head. “Not buying it. Even a little. I’m guessing you’re one of those guys who wakes up ridiculously early to work out.”
“Hmm. Interesting theory. Where else is this supposed proof?” I indulged him and poked at his firm chest. Then I flattened my hand and dragged it down to his hard abs. God help me, I felt ridges through the shirt.
In one quick motion, he spun me around and backed me up until my body hit the wall of the nearest building—I wasn’t sure which one because I’d gotten lost in feeling him up. What I was sure of was that I was playing with fire and doing a crappy job of sticking to guidelines we’d made mere hours ago. “I feel like it should be my turn now,” he said, his gravelly voice right next to my ear. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on that amazing ass since the first moment I saw you.”
The ache between my thighs returned, and as if he could sense it, he slid one leg between both of mine, pressing right against the pulsing need.
Immediately my body went Team Friction on me, hinting that it was in favor of humping his leg here on the sidewalk to ease the torturous pressure.
Even if I was shameless enough to do it—which I wasn’t, not here on the street, anyway—I had a feeling that doing that would only make the desire coursing through me stronger.
Through the hazy thoughts, I tried to find my common sense. She was a slippery little bitch, but I finally caught hold of her. “Four times.” It came out shaky, but I’d managed to shove the words past my lips.
“Four times sounds reasonable, as long as each session only counts as one,” he said, his mouth moving mere inches from mine. “Should we start with my place or yours?”
I pressed a hand to his chest, holding him in place. “I meant this is the fourth time that you’re breaking the no-touching guideline.”
Confusion flickered for a second before he understood what I’d meant. “I thought we weren’t counting the first time.”
“That was before you purposely broke the guidelines. And leaning against me like this…” Haziness laced with lust tried to take hold of me again and I swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “Probably counts as five.”