Page 47 of Feel Me

“I don’t like hearing you talk about other men,” I tell her. Christ, I want to kick my own ass for saying it,andfor saying what follows. “Especially when you’re lying in bed with me.”

“I wasn’t trying to rub them in your face,” she says.

“I know,” I answer, trying to figure out when the hell I turned into such a pussy.

“Then what??” The frown eases away, an air of realization sparking along her features. “You’re jealous?” she asks like she can hardly believe it.

“Maybe,” I admit.

“Maybe?” she repeats.

My gaze travels down her face to her hourglass figure and back up again, taking in every sweet inch of her. She’s gorgeous and experienced based on how hard she made me come. She never claimed to be a virgin or pretend to be one. But the idea of anyone touching her makes me crazy. So yeah, maybe I am?shit.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Look,” I say. “Jealousy isn’t something I’m familiar with.”

“No?”

“Not even a little bit,” I admit. “It’s an emotion I’ve never bothered to entertain. When some asshole got ahead of me in school, turned in a better grade, or scored an extra few points playing ball, it never made me jealous. All it did was drive me to be better than him next time. I used that drive to become who I am. So me and jealousy, we don’t know each other.”

“Okay,” she says, smiling.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I think it’s cute that despite how you’re not a jealous person, you might be when it comes to me.”

All right. I am. That doesn’t mean I’m proud. “You think it’s cute?” I repeat.

“It really is,” she says, beaming. “People see you like I think they used to see John F. Kennedy, suave, brilliant, a born leader—someone they support and rightfully believe in. You’ve taken on cases that have garnered you international attention, and you’re not even thirty-five yet.” She sighs. “Declan, politicians and members of the city’s most exclusive circles not only know your name and reputation, they consider you one of them. You must know this.”

“I do,” I reply. I think I should say more, but right now, she wants me to hear her. No, she needs me to.

“You met the governor once,” she says, holding out a finger for emphasis. “Yet you held her attention and earned her respect from that single encounter. I don’t have to tell you she’s hard to get close to. Just like I don’t have to tell you that you charm everyone else in the same manner. So do I think it’s cute you’re a little jealous, of men from my past who’ll never come close to the man you are? Oh, my God, yes. It’s good to know you’re human after all.”

Her words keep me in place. This is the first time I know what she thinks of me. Despite my screw-ups in the past, I’ve managed to impress her. Maybe because she finally let me.

The thing is, she’s impressed the hell out me, too. “Do you ever feel jealous?” My voice is barely a murmur. If she wasn’t reading my lips, no way would she know what I’m asking.

“You mean of all those perfect pretty women who turn to ogle you when we walk down the street together? Or of the ones who leap to their feet the moment they see you?” Her smile fades. “Every day.”

Well, shit.

One night. We’ve technically only shared one night. But if I shove the sex aside, and consider the way she’s looking at me, the same way I’m looking at her, I know I’m wrong. Mel and I have been practically inseparable from the word go.

Yeah, we’ve had our share of differences. But those differences have led to a lot of talking, and those talks led to stares that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with how bad I’ve wanted to be with her like this. We became friends, regardless that maybe all this time, we’ve wanted more than friendship.

Her nails skim lightly against my arm, stimulating every nerve cell along the way. “What are you thinking?” she asks.

“That you have nothing to be jealous of because you’re the hottest woman I know.”

She stills. I don’t think she believes me.

So I pull her to me and spend the night proving I mean what I say.

CHAPTER 14

Melissa

---