Page 82 of Work with Me

I envisioned his face between my legs as I pressed my cheek to smooth tile. “Tempting, but I really do need to get home.”

“No funny business. I promise. Just getting clean. You can even shower alone if you want.”

My lips tugged up into a smile. Who’d have thought Jackson Jones, rockstar programmer and international playboy, would be begging me to take a shower with him after giving me who-knew-how-many orgasms? Me, the sex goddess formerly known as the Ice Queen? “All right,” I said. “Come on.”

His shower was plenty big enough for two, and it would’ve been easy to go another round. But the only touching we did was soaping each other’s backs. When Jackson asked if he could shampoo my hair, I let him. The warm water pelted my chest and my belly, and I closed my eyes while his big fingers massaged all the tension out of my scalp. I’d let him in, both emotionally and physically, and he hadn’t turned it against me. Instead, he made me feel safe, cared-for. Cherished. After so many years of caring for myself—and Noah—I wanted it to go on forever.

How long could we do this? A couple weeks until Thanksgiving separated us? Or longer? Would we go out on Saturday nights, strolling along Sixth Street, holding hands and sampling the music outside each bar? Could I spend lazy Sundays at his place, wearing his T-shirts and lingering over coffee in his kitchen?

The water beat at the crown of my head and my lower back, Jackson’s big body warming my front. Too soon, he’d rinsed the suds from my hair and reached around me to turn off the water.

After we dried off, I slicked my hair back into a bun. Jackson insisted on doing up the buttons of my blouse—which was totally unnecessary—but also helpfully did the back zipper and button on my skirt. He found a fresh shirt and shorts somewhere in his bedroom and then made me sit on the edge of the bed while he slid on my red slingbacks like I was Cinderella.

He tugged me to my feet. “When can I see you again?”

The best thing was that I didn’t have to make up a fake reason to end things with Jackson. We had one already built-in. “You’re leaving.”

His eyes sharpened like a scalpel, cutting away my defenses. Damn. He knew about the excuses and why I made them. “I told you I’m staying.”

“For how long?”

His mouth tightened for a second. “Long-term was never my thing. I’m more of a one-night guy. I’ve never been with anyone—never let myself be with someone—who’s challenged me the way you do, who’s beautiful and smart, too. Someone I respect.”

“You don’t mean I’m not like other girls, do you?” I crossed my arms.

“No.” A blush spread over his forehead. “I mean, of course you’re exceptional. But I—I didn’t think I could be with anyone who’d—”

“Call you on your bullshit?”

He snorted. “Exactly. What I’m trying to say is that this is a first for me. I’m probably going to fuck it up. But I—I want to try. I was already planning to talk with Cooper tomorrow about continuing to work from Austin. I want to give this a chance. Give us a chance.”

“You’re not going to say anything to Cooper, are you? About…us?” Was there really anus?

He shuddered. “Not yet. We’ll get him to write that testimonial for you first.”

I uncrossed my arms and joined my hands with his. “Thanks.” It wouldn’t hurt to see him a few more times before he left. Either way, I’d be ruined. And I liked the way with orgasms better than the one without.

“My next gig doesn’t start until next week, so I’m free the rest of this week.”

“Cooper’s staying through tomorrow. But I could play hooky the day after that.”

“I’m off the project for one day and you’re already playing hooky?”

“I’m a fuckup.” He shrugged. “Everyone expects it.”

My stomach clenched. I wanted to shake him. “Listen to me, Jackson Jones. You are not a fuckup. You are a star. Cooper praised you, and I get the feeling he doesn’t do that a lot. You built that software and made it sing.”

His face softened. “I know. But it sounds better when you say it.”

I kissed him hard on the lips. “And you deserve a day off once in a while.”

His arms wrapped around me. “So do you. You need to spend time with your boyfriend, who also happens to be the best lover you’ve ever had.”

A thrill shivered through me. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You haven’t even taken me out on a date.”

“Day after tomorrow. I’ll take you out Wednesday.”

“Okay. Text me.” I leaned in to give him a peck on the lips, but he captured my mouth in a devouring kiss that made my knees weak and stole my breath. It made me forget why we’d waited so long to sleep together.

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