“Will you hurry up, woman?” Jameson calls from his running position up in front.
I’m panting for dear life as I try to keep up. Oh hell, he’s trying to kill me.
“What’s the rush?”
He turns around and runs back to me.
I frown as I watch him. “God, you’re so perky and energetic in the morning.”
He laughs and sprints off as I keep shuffling along. I watch him do a loop so that he can still see me, and then he sprints back.
“How do you run so fast?”
He jogs backward in front of me as we talk. “Well, what I do is I imagine someone is chasing me with an ax.” He’s hardly even out of breath.
“What?” I frown. “Are you kidding me?”
He shakes his head with a cheeky grin.
“Your relaxation tool is to imagine someone is chasing you with a fucking ax.”
He laughs as he jogs backward. “It works. I run much faster that way.”
“This is all making sense now,” I puff. “The puzzle is falling into place here.”
“What puzzle?”
“Your back is tight because your masseuse continually puts it out so she can fuck you again.”
He grins.
“Your relaxation exercise is to be chased by an ax murderer.”
He laughs.
“And you go out seven nights a week. No wonder you’re stressed out, you crazy bastard.”
He pulls me to him by my T-shirt and kisses me on the lips. “Lucky I have you to fuck me calm, then, isn’t it?”
“Damn straight,” I pant. We need to stop talking. I can’t run and talk at the same time. What kind of Olympic athlete does he think I am?
“What exercise would you recommend I do? For relaxing, I mean,” he asks as he falls in to jog beside me slowly.
I think for a moment. “Aqua aerobics.”
“Ha.” He laughs. “I’m not that old.”
“You’re pretty old,” I pant.
“Do you want to race me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that murderer has his ax in my lungs, and I’m about to die at any second. I hope you know resuscitation.”
He chuckles. “Wimp.” He takes off at high speed, and I shuffle along and smile as I watch him loop Central Park as he always keeps me in sight.
Jameson Miles is extremely fit . . . and extremely hot.
And luckily for me, I’m his fuck bunny.
I stand in the foyer as I wait for Ava and Molly. We’re just going on our lunch break, and Molly is talking to one of the security guards. I think she’s a little sweet on him.
“You coming out this weekend?” Ava asks.
“Um, I’m not sure what I’m doing yet. I might be going home.” Jeez, I don’t really want to go out with her again. She’s only interested in men if they have money. That’s just so left field for me that I can’t deal with it.
One of the elevators opens, and Tristan steps out and then Jameson. They have two other men with them. Wearing a navy suit and a crisp white shirt, he is the epitome of gorgeous man. Dark hair, square jaw, and those piercing blue eyes. It’s hard to believe that just six hours ago, he was deep inside my body in the shower. He took me twice when we got home from our run this morning. The man’s an animal. His dick is out of this world.
I’ve died and gone to CEO heaven.
“Oh my God,” Ava whispers. “Look who’s coming.”
Jameson is deep in conversation with the men as the four of them stride through the crowded foyer. Everyone stops and stares. I stand still as he walks past, and at the last moment he glances up and catches sight of me. His step falters, and I give him a subtle shake of my head. I don’t want anyone to know about us. He nods once as if in understanding and keeps walking as he falls back into his conversation. We watch as they leave through the front doors and disappear up the street.
They must be going out for lunch.
“Seriously, where do we find men like the Miles brothers?” Ava sighs.
“Right?” I watch the street they disappeared up.
“One of these days,” she whispers. “One of these days.”
I wonder if Jameson had a long and boozy lunch, and more importantly, did he bring back cake? It’s getting to that time of the day where my mind is fixed firmly on something sweet to have with my coffee. “Hi, Emily, have you got your stories we are running with tomorrow?” Hayden asks.
I smile up at him. Hmm. “I didn’t think they were due until four, and it’s only three.”
Hayden is the person who I turn the news in to, and he then passes them on to the next stage.
“I know, but I like to get a head start,” he says casually.
Head start on what? Is he the one selling the stories? Is that why he wants them early, so he can get them off to the highest bidder?
“They’re not ready yet.”
“Okay, cool.” He smiles. “Email them over as soon as you get them sorted.”
My eyes hold his. “Sure.”
I watch him walk back to his desk and fall into conversation with the person who sits next to him.
I’m watching you, asshole.
I look around the office with renewed determination. I’m watching all of you. Every single one.
It’s just now four, and I email Jameson.
Hi,
I booked you a massage with a physio. They will be at your place at seven. Hope this suits your plans.
xoxoxo
A few moments later, a reply bounces back.
Dear FB,
Please define “they.”
J
xx
I roll my eyes. I knew this was coming.
Dear Mr. J,
They . . . aka . . . male physiotherapist professional, nonsexual-act-performing masseuse. Specializes in back treatment and hella expensive.
FB
xoxoxo
I wait for a few moments, and a reply bounces back.
FB,
Fine, can you let them into my apartment, please? I’ll have Alan pick you up at six thirty. I’ll meet you there, maybe fifteen minutes late.
J
xox
I smile broadly as hope blooms in my chest. I write back.
Are we seeing each other tonight?
He replies.
Yes. I’m away for the week next week, therefore, I’m taking next week’s meetings too. See you tonight.
Jay
xox
I probably should play a little hard to get and pretend I have something going on . . . but I just don’t have it in me. I email back.
Jay,
I’ll make dinner. What do you want?
FB
xoxo
A reply bounces back.
The only thing I want to eat tonight is you. Now get back to work before I bend you over your desk.
xox
I smirk as I feel my face flush, and I click out of my emails. He is undoubtedly the hottest man on earth.
I feel like a master chef in Jameson’s fancy kitchen. It’s just now seven, and I turn the gas on and lift the pot of water onto it. I like having dinner ready for him. I know he’s never had it, so it feels special to do it for him.
The security buzzer sounds, and I look around. Shit. Where’s the intercom?
I see a phone and screen near the front door. I pick up. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Matthew, the physio. I’m here for a massage therapy session.”
I smile as I stare at the screen. Matthew is good looking, has the whole Scandinavian thing going on. “Come up.” I push the button and release the door for him, and he disappears into the elevator. Moments later, he knocks on the door. “Hello.” I smile.
“Hi.” He walks in wearing a white uniform and carrying a fold-up massage bed.
Wow . . . Matthew is really hot. Maybe I should get a massage too?
“Where do you want me to set up?” he asks.
“Umm.” I frown as I look around. Where do I want him to set up? “Just hang on a minute.” I walk down the hallway and peer into the rooms. There’s a room at the end with a treadmill and weight bench. “Just down here at the end, please.”
He saunters down with his sexy walk and begins to set up. Suddenly I’m reminded that this is the exact scenario that Jameson had with Chloe . . . only they really did have sex. My stomach rolls at the thought.
Stop it.
“I’ll be out here if you need me.” I walk nervously back out into the kitchen. Shit, is it safe to leave him down there alone? Should I be watching him or something?
I peer back down the hall to make sure he doesn’t come out of that room and snoop around. Oh, damn it, what’s the protocol with strangers in a place like this?
The front door clicks, and Jameson comes into view. “Hello,” he says flatly.
I smile. “Hi.” I wrap my arms around him. “How’s my man?”
“Fine.” He brushes past me in a rush.
Oh. I frown. That’s not the greeting I was hoping for.
“Is he here yet?”
“Yes, in the room down at the end.”
“I’ll just have a quick shower. Can you tell him I’ll be five minutes, please?”
“Sure.”
He disappears into the bedroom, and I walk back down the hall. “Jameson is just taking a quick shower. He will only be a few minutes.”
“Okay, thanks.” Matthew smiles.
I walk back out into the kitchen and stir the vegetables I have cooking. Maybe I should have stayed at my place tonight. He didn’t seem too pleased to see me.
Ten minutes later warm hands come around my waist from behind, and Jameson’s lips find my temple. “Hey, babe,” he whispers softly.
I turn to find him with a white towel around his waist. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, I’m just really tired.” He exhales heavily. “The last thing I feel like is a fucking massage,” he whispers as he holds his cheek to mine.
“You’ll feel much better after it,” I say. “Massage, dinner, and bed.”
He rolls his eyes and trudges up the hall.
I smile as I listen. Every time Jameson inhales, he gives a slight snore. I’m sitting on the couch in my pajamas watching a movie, and he’s lying with his head on my lap, fast asleep.
This feels strangely . . . normal.
He wasn’t joking when he said he was tired. He’s more than tired—he’s exhausted.
I think it’s more mental exhaustion than physical, and I can’t imagine what he deals with at work every day. He’s had the pressure of running Miles Media from such a young age. Even in his youth, he would have been coached for this role. But Jameson Miles the CEO is a mere mortal, and I feel a protective urge roll over me.
I mindlessly run my fingers through his hair and enjoy this close time with him.
I don’t imagine many people see him so relaxed. “Jay,” I whisper softly.
He frowns in his sleep.
“Jay, bedtime, baby,” I whisper.
He inhales as he stretches and blinks, as if not knowing where he is.
I run my fingers through his hair. “Bedtime.” I smile softly.
I get up and turn off the lights and the television, and then he takes my hand and leads me down the hall to his bedroom. He brushes his teeth and gets into bed.
A few moments later, once I’m ready, I climb into bed beside him, and he pulls me into his arms. “Good night, sweetheart,” he whispers as he kisses my forehead. We lie cheek to cheek. There’s a closeness between us that I haven’t felt before.
“Good night.” I snuggle against his chest.
This night has been nonsexual . . . and normal . . . and weirdly intimate.
I may be addicted.
I wake to the feeling of strong hands holding my inner thighs apart. Jameson’s head is between my legs, and his thick tongue swipes through my sex. My head throws back, and my hands go to the back of his head. My body is pumping with arousal, so I know he’s been at it awhile. “Oh God,” I moan. “Good morning, Jay.”
He turns his head and kisses my inner thigh. “Morning.”
He bites my clitoris, and I close my eyes. Good God. He’s awake now and in all his glory. He continues to suck as waves of pleasure start to pulse through me. He pushes three thick fingers aggressively into my sex, and I wince. This is Jameson’s specialty—finger fucking me with such force that I orgasm before we even have sex.
I’ve never been with a man who can pleasure me in so many different ways.
He begins to ride me, his whole hand centered on the task. My legs are back to the mattress, and God. “Oh God . . . so good,” I breathe. The sound of my wet arousal echoes through the silent room as he works me.
This man is insane. Ten minutes ago I was dead asleep.
He bends and nips my clitoris, and I convulse as I come in a rush. My body lurches forward, and he pushes me back down. “Shh,” he whispers as he calms me. “Again,” he chants as his eyes hold mine.
“No.” I sit up in a rush and grab his shoulder and pull him up over me. We kiss as we fall back to the mattress, and my leg wraps around his waist.
Hell, what a way to wake up.
Our kiss turns frantic, and I feel his cock nudge my opening, and then he pauses.
“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” I breathe as I hold his face to mine.
He closes his eyes for a split second, and then, as if unable to relax without a condom, he drags himself off me and goes to the bedside. I watch as he tears one open and rolls it on.
Then he’s back on me. He slides home deep in one swift movement. I cry out as my sex begins to spasm around his thick muscle. “Hold it,” he growls.
Fuck . . . how are you supposed to hold it? Like that’s a thing.
He looks down at me. His olive skin has a sheen of perspiration, his blue eyes are beaming, and I smile in wonder at the perfect specimen in front of me . . . inside me.
He widens his legs and goes up onto his knees and then lifts my legs in front of him by my ankles and begins to pump me—thick, heavy hits—and his jaw hangs slack as he watches the place our bodies meet.
I can see every muscle in his torso contract as he pushes forward. Goddamn . . . watching Jameson Miles fuck is the world’s best porn. He picks up the pace, and his body goes into overdrive. I scrunch the blankets beneath me as I feel myself build.
The sound of our bodies slapping together echoes through the room. His eyes close in ecstasy, and he moans as his body really goes to town. “I’m close,” I whimper.
“Hold it,” he barks as he pumps.
“Jameson.”
He grabs my legs and puts them to one side and together, and his eyes flicker with arousal as his pumps become slow and measured.
Oh . . . my man likes it tight.
I clench down, and his head throws back. I clench again, and he can’t hold it. He holds himself deep, and I feel the telling jerk as he comes deep inside my body. He empties himself, and then, knowing I can’t come in that position, rises over me and kisses me as we fall tender.
This is what I love . . . this is my favorite kind of sex with him. Gentle, tender lovemaking. He holds himself up onto his elbows and kisses me as his body gives me exactly what I need.
Him . . . I need all of him.
Our eyes are locked as something so beautiful runs between us. His kiss is tender, but it’s the look in his eyes that’s turning me inside out.
We’re falling for each other.
This is not casual sex; this isn’t even sex. This is the ultimate lovemaking.
“Jay,” I pant as my eyes search his.
“I know, baby,” he whispers. I grip his shoulders, and he holds himself deep, and my body contracts around his.
His lips take mine, and our kiss is slow and unhurried and everything I’ve never had.
He slowly finishes me and then drops to the mattress beside me and rolls me to face him.
We look at each other, and I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of closeness.
I stare at his beautiful face, and I smile softly. “I feel like—”
“Don’t.” He cuts me off.
“Don’t ruin this.”
I’m at a loss by what he means. “How would I ruin this?”
“Don’t fall in love with me, Emily.”
What the hell? I stare at him. “Why not?”
“Because we’re not like that. Get that through your head. Right now.” He gets up in a rush and walks into the bathroom and closes the door. It shuts with a sharp snap.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I was going to say that I felt like that was the best alarm clock of all time.
Love was just an afterthought.
