Page 65 of Jett

“Oh.” In my head that sounds like an invitation, and when our glasses meet with a soft clink, it feels like more than a drink. It feels like an understanding.

For the first time, I feel like his equal. Maybe it’s the way he looks at me, as though I’m someone other than his PA. Like he’s really seeing me.

And I like it.

Chapter 23

JETT

Thank God I’m standing behind the bar where she can’t see what she’s doing to me.

When she drank from the place my lips had been, my cock twitched. Does she have any idea of the effect she’s having on me?

I have a sneaky feeling she does. Her actions are deliberate. She means to torture me. Cari the assistant would have asked for a new drink. Maybe even something non-alcoholic. Vacation has made her carefree, happier.

Wild.

I like it.

I like that she’s not in her usual pencil skirts and smart jackets with her neat little updos, putting me in my place and giving me icy put downs.

I like that she’s here with me in the bar at midnight. Drinking from my whiskey glass. Fuck. I’ve never had to jerk off as much as I have since we got here.

That first day, seeing her in that tiny little slip of a bikini, having to rub suntan lotion into her skin. Fuck me. I had to cancel my business meeting and take a cold shower. I couldn’t focus and I’ve had trouble focusing ever since.

Lately, every time I’m around Cari, I can’t seem to keep myself in check. The pent-up frustration is unbearable.

When did it start? I know exactly when it started.

And now she’s watching me, unsure of what to say next, her confusion palpable. Her lips part as if she’s going to ask something. She looks so damn good.

“Are you going to send me home?” she finally asks, her voice soft but uncertain.

I set my glass down, wondering where this crazy thought of hers has come from. “Why would I do that?”

“Because … it was a moment of madness. I didn’t mean it.”

“Didn’t you?” I lean across the bar, not quite believing how this evening has unfolded. I wondered if she would ever bring it up—the way she wrapped her legs around me, clinging to me for dear life, and then later, grabbing my ass and pressing against me. Instant hard on. She must have felt it.

Still, I’m not sure what exactly she’s referring to, but she can’t think I’d send her away because of that. This evening is fast turning into something else. “I brought you here for a reason.”

She frowns, as if she doesn’t understand. Or maybe she does, and she’s just not sure what I’m thinking.

We haven’t seen one another since then, and I sense we’ve both been keeping our distance. But tonight, the air is charged with a boldness, a simmering, sexual attraction I can no longer hide.

She’s crazy if she thinks I’d send her away. It’s the last thing I’d do, but she’s clearly rattled by nearly drowning. We never talked about her fear of water, where it came from. I always assumed she could swim, but she panicked the moment she couldn’t touch the floor.

Maybe later, after more drinks or when we’re lying in bed, she’ll tell me.

Stop.

I shake my head at the intrusive thoughts that have plagued me since we arrived. Why did I think it would be different? It started on the plane. I should have known better. I should have known I couldn’t do this.

But right now, she’s standing there looking vulnerable and strong all at once, and I can't take my eyes off her.

“I just thought, you know,” she stammers, “with what happened in the water ... maybe you’d want me gone.”

“You panicked.” I try to keep my voice level. “You were scared. Where does that fear come from? Have you always been scared of water?”

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