Page 37 of Burn With Me

“Huh? Getting enough what?” he asks as I push my chair back and stand.

“I’m going out. I might be back later. If I’m not, I'll finish the contracts at home,” I inform Stacey, grabbing my jacket.

“No. No, you need to finish themnow, Jackson,” Tripp says as though he’s my boss and not the other way around.

At the same time, Stacey chimes in, “What about the counteroffer?”

Heading for the door, I lift a hand, addressing them both. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

“What areyoudoing here?” Ginny frowns at me from her desk at the women’s center, though her tone lacks its usual bite.

“Was in the neighborhood and decided to stop in and see if you wanted to join me for lunch.”

Lie.

Her hair is down and curled around her face today. Barely a stitch of makeup. Like a sunset, she’s naturally beautiful. Stunning without even trying.

It makes me wonder why I always go after women who are so heavily put together.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Is this what happens when women tell you no? Would I be so obsessed if I hadn’t seen her bare pussy up close and personal?

“No thanks.” She stands and crosses the room to where her long camel-colored peacoat and bag are hanging on the coatrack.

Her dark jeans cling to her legs, while a simple black turtleneck hugs her like a second skin. At the sound of her clearing her throat, I tear my eyes away from my perusal of her to see her inspecting me in the same manner.

“I’m actually leaving for the day. Looking at apartments here in a little bit,” she explains as she shrugs on her coat.

Thatcatches my attention. “Ready to move out ofbrother dearest’s?”

“He told you we live together?” Her face falls as she asks.

Amongst other things.

“Where are you looking?” Ignoring her question, I pull out my phone and text Stacey, letting her know I won’t be returning to the office.

Her quick reply is a facepalm emoji.

“I have a bunch of studios lined up in Murray Hill today. It’s slim pickings out there for a girl on my budget.”

Murray Hill is an acceptable neighborhood. Crime is low. It’s reasonably close to the restaurant, Chillard, and Désirer. “Who’s your realtor?”

“I don’t have one.” She looks sheepish as she says it. “I was just going to go attend the open houses.”

Moving out of the doorway so she can pass, I relish the way her face lights up with the smile she throws over her shoulder at me. “Wanna come?”

Following her, I open my mouth to reply, but she cuts me off without looking back, “Don’t be gross, Jackson. You’re lucky I’m feeling nice today.”

I’ll bet you are after you got off Saturday night.

“And what, pray tell, has you in such a good mood, Red?” We exit the building—after I throw Michelle at the front a wave as she watches us leave through disapproving eyes—walking down the steps side by side.

Looking over, I see that Ginny’s cheeks have turned pink, and her lips are pulled up at the corner. “Nothing in particular. Just having a good day, I guess.”

“I sure hope another man isn’t the reason for those pink cheeks.” Holding the door to my car open for her, when she goes to slide in, I step in her way and whisper, “Otherwise, I may just have to bend you over my knee and give you a pink ass to match.”

Instead of her usual disgusted sneer, she smirks and leans into me. “Keep dreaming about my ass, Jackson. ‘Cause you’re never gonna touch it.”

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