Page 15 of Burn With Me

She crosses the room, leaving the door open, to take a seat at her desk. “I know all about you, Jackson Tailor. And I am not interested in whatever it is you think you want to offer me for the night.”

Shifting back to rest against the plush cushion, I fold my hands together behind my head and nod to her. “And what exactly have you heard, Ginny?”

I’m very aware of the way her eyes dart down my body quickly, as if she thinks if she’s fast enough, I won’t catch her checking me out. She blows a breath out, disturbing the pieces of hair that have fallen out of her bun and frame her face. “Look, it’s no secret that you like women. And if that’sworking out for you, then great, but I’m not into it. I’m not dazzled by your charm or your good looks or your money. There is literally nothing about you that appeals to me.”

Ouch.

“And that is, in fact, most likely the only reason you are even here, isn’t it? Because I won’t say yes, and you aren’t used to that. You’re just like your uncle in that aspect—you hate the wordno.”

The last part is said quietly, as if more to herself than it was meant for me, but it catches my attention, nonetheless. Leaning forward again, I ask, “What is the deal with you and my uncle? Thought you said you haven’t slept with him?”

Her creamy skin turns pink as her eyes grow wide. “I haven’t!”

“I call bullshit.”

Goading her is causing her to get all flustered, and it’s making me imagine what she’ll look like between my sheets with that same look on her face. Setting my elbows on my knees, I try to discreetly bite my knuckle in order to have something else to focus on, because all my cock wants to do right now is stand at attention.

“You know you’re doing an awful job of convincing me that I would want anything to do with you. I think it’s time for you to leave. You came, you asked, I declined. I’m not a plaything that you can use and throw away when you’re done, Jackson.” She launches herself out of the chair she’s sitting in and strides across the room, catching me by surprise when she reaches out to grab my arm.

She’s not strong enough to pull me up, but I oblige her by standing. However, I underestimate how close she is, and when I stand, my erection brushes against her thigh. Ginny sucks in air as her eyes drop to the bulge in my pants. She’s still holding onto my arm, and I don’t miss the way her fingers flex and her nails dig into my arm marginally. My head dips, breath skating over her cheek as she continues to stare.

“I never called you a plaything, Ginny. As for throwing you away when we’re done. Something tells me that would be quitehardto do.” My voice is deeper, huskier, and my fingers itch to reach out and grab ahold of the back of her neck and sit her up on her desk so that I can fuck her into next week.

Her eyes meet mine, chest rising and falling with her quickened breathing, cheeks reddening with either embarrassment or excitement. Something tells me it’s now the latter.

Long, dark lashes flutter against her cheek as my hand lifts slowly, not wanting to see her flinch like she did last time. Just as my fingers are about to curl around a lock of her hair, the sound of glass shattering resonates from somewhere out in the space where all the cubicles are.

Ginny lurches back, the red flush on her cheeks spreading down her face and disappearing beneath the material of the turtleneck. Pushing her fallen strands back, she stammers, “I’m not…I won’t be…a notch in your long…carved up bedpost. So, put that thing away and please leave.”

She gives me her back and makes no move to turn around as she sets a hand on her hip while the other clutches her neck. Turning my back to the door, I quickly adjust myself before pulling my peacoat tighter around my body and exiting without another word.

As I walk back out to the front, I mentally make a note of all her little tells. The way she sucked in a breath when she felt my length against her leg, the way her eyes widened when she saw it straining against my pants, desperate to be inside her. She’s wound tighter than the lid on a pickle jar.

Time for herstrangerto give her some sweet, sweet release.

Ginny

“Ican’t believe you told him where I work!”

The rest of the day went by agonizingly slow after Jackson left my office. As soon as I closed the door behind him, I wanted to rush to the bathroom, shove my fingers beneath my panties, and get myself off to the thought of his impressive length.

No wonder he’s so cocky.

“He’s way hotter in person, Gin. I couldn’t help myself. Figured you could use something to get you riled up for tonight. I totally get not wanting to be a notch in his belt, but damn. How could younotwant him to roll you around in his sheets?” my best friend, Lenni, says through the phone.

Taking a pause from folding my laundry, I reach up to rub my eyes as I think about last night. I’d asked when I would see the stranger again and he’d just told megoodnight.“Yeah, he’s hot, but he’s a complete fuckboy. I’m not interested in that. As for my stranger, he may not even be there tonight. And he may not have gotten them to book me exclusively with him.”

The faint click of a lock and the door opening makes me freeze, my heart pounding in my chest so hard it’s almost painful.

“Gin?” I hear Chris call out.

“I have to go, I’ll see you later,” I whisper to Lenni before cutting the call. She’s used to it. She thinks I just have an overly protective big brother who acts more like dad.

I’ve never felt comfortable admitting the truth to her.

The smell of Chinese takeout filters from down the hall as I head toward the kitchen. “Smells good. You’re home early.”

Chris is unloading the cartons from a bag, not bothering to look up as I enter the room. “Grabbed Mazu on the way home. It was a slow night, so I asked if I could take off early. I got those sesame noodles you like, and the lemon chicken.”

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