Page 66
Story: Jett
She looks away, embarrassed. “I’m really sorry,” she whispers. I notice that she doesn’t tell me.
“Don’t apologize,” I mutter.
“But I feel embarrassed,” she insists. “Humiliated, if you must know. I’ll understand if you don’t want me around. If you want to send me home.”
“Cari, stop this. You worry too much.” She seems overly stressed about this.
“I … I touched you inappropriately, Mr. Knight.” That sentence makes my cock turn harder. Not that I thought it was possible. I try to stay calm, to not acknowledge the raging current of need coursing through me.
Eyes filled with fear assess me. Cari only calls meMr. Knightwhen she’s pissed off or making a point. I tilt my head. “Hmmmm.” It takes effort to keep my voice casual.
“You don’t remember?” Her cheeks are flushed as she lifts her glass to her lips but doesn’t sip.
Don’t remember? It’s been looping around in my brain ever since it happened. I had to jerk off again as soon as I was alone. She has no idea of her effect on me. And now her lower lip looks plump and inviting. All I can think about is how badly I want to suck it, feel it between my teeth. Feel it on me.
“Maybe you should remind me.” I find this amusing.
She hesitates, turning a deeper shade of pink. “I’d rather not.”
“Ah,” I say, my voice dropping. “You mean when you put your hands around my ass and squeezed? Or when you wrapped your legs around me?”
Her mouth falls open, making the thoughts in my head turn even more dangerous. I swear I can see her nipples hardening through her dress. My heart skips a beat. This is turning her on. Why? How? She’s such a beautiful young woman. I wish I were as young and as appealing in her eyes as that fucker she went out with tonight. But to her, I’m old—ancient, even—as well as pompous and a snob. I know because she’s told me as much.
“Yes,” she murmurs, barely audible, her eyes wide and unsure.
I lean across even more, setting the glass aside, my hands clasped in front of me. Filthy thoughts rush through my mind. A floodgate has opened, and I can't control it anymore.
“I would never send you back for doing that.” My voice is full of dark promise.
Her eyes drop to my mouth. Her glass trembles in her hand as she sets it down. My gaze keeps going to her bare shoulder. I’m desperate to trace my fingers over her skin. To feel her softness. To drop a kiss or two on it. She’s not wearing a bra—that much is clear. “You’re not wearing a bra, are you?” I ask, unable to stop myself. There are no brakes anymore. I can’t contain my thoughts or my words anymore. Not around her.
She shifts back uneasily on the stool, clearly flustered. “Mr. Knight …” Her skin flushes a deeper shade of pink.
She must think I’m a monster. She obviously doesn’t have these feelings for me. “I-I’m sorry,” I say, panicked. I can’t even think straight anymore. “You’re right. I’ve had too much to drink. I only wanted you to know that you look amazing.”
She licks her lower lip, the action sending a jolt straight through me. “Thank you, Mr. Knight.” Her voice is shaky. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to get rid of me. Brooke is having a lovely time, out here. Apart from that episode with Madison and her mother, she’s really in her element.”
I love that she’s so focused on my daughter, but this conversation is about us. “I don’t plan on getting rid of you, Cari.”
She laughs nervously, but I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. “You couldn’t anyway,” she adds with a chuckle. “I already resigned, remember?”
I hate that she’s talking about leaving again. I don’t want her to go. I’ve never wanted her to leave, but I can’t say that.
“Why are you leaving?” I want the real reason instead of the generic one she gave me.
She looks down at her hands, avoiding my gaze. Her brow creases. I only realize that she’s struggling to answer when she doesn’t say anything.
“Tell me, Cari,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I move back a little, giving her space because I don't want to frighten her. My thoughts are X-rated, but hers won't be. She might even be scared of me.
This collision course I've been careening on for months has brought me to this moment—I tried to move out of her way, tried to block her out of my thoughts by sending her on Alicia errands, but now I must face the truth head on. Because even though I'm her boss, I don't feel like it right now. I see her as a beautiful woman to whom I am ridiculously, impossibly attracted.
It’s not just because of her looks. Cari is a beautiful person through and through. But she also keeps me in check. On my toes. She makes me better. When the bear in me comes out, she stares me down and puts me in my place. She has more power over me than she realizes.
“I need ...” She chews her lower lip again. I know she's nervous.
A ray of hope explodes inside me. Does she feel this? A buzz of anticipation fizzes through my veins. I know when a woman wants me, when she's interested. With Cari, I've second guessed myself but here in Bermuda, I feel a stronger pull to her than ever. I’ve tried to suppress it—my feelings for her, the way I think about her. How I’ve been thinking of her, for many months now.
I’ve tried and now here we are. Something keeps me bound to her. Keeps her in my thoughts no matter how hard I try to dismiss them.
“Don’t apologize,” I mutter.
“But I feel embarrassed,” she insists. “Humiliated, if you must know. I’ll understand if you don’t want me around. If you want to send me home.”
“Cari, stop this. You worry too much.” She seems overly stressed about this.
“I … I touched you inappropriately, Mr. Knight.” That sentence makes my cock turn harder. Not that I thought it was possible. I try to stay calm, to not acknowledge the raging current of need coursing through me.
Eyes filled with fear assess me. Cari only calls meMr. Knightwhen she’s pissed off or making a point. I tilt my head. “Hmmmm.” It takes effort to keep my voice casual.
“You don’t remember?” Her cheeks are flushed as she lifts her glass to her lips but doesn’t sip.
Don’t remember? It’s been looping around in my brain ever since it happened. I had to jerk off again as soon as I was alone. She has no idea of her effect on me. And now her lower lip looks plump and inviting. All I can think about is how badly I want to suck it, feel it between my teeth. Feel it on me.
“Maybe you should remind me.” I find this amusing.
She hesitates, turning a deeper shade of pink. “I’d rather not.”
“Ah,” I say, my voice dropping. “You mean when you put your hands around my ass and squeezed? Or when you wrapped your legs around me?”
Her mouth falls open, making the thoughts in my head turn even more dangerous. I swear I can see her nipples hardening through her dress. My heart skips a beat. This is turning her on. Why? How? She’s such a beautiful young woman. I wish I were as young and as appealing in her eyes as that fucker she went out with tonight. But to her, I’m old—ancient, even—as well as pompous and a snob. I know because she’s told me as much.
“Yes,” she murmurs, barely audible, her eyes wide and unsure.
I lean across even more, setting the glass aside, my hands clasped in front of me. Filthy thoughts rush through my mind. A floodgate has opened, and I can't control it anymore.
“I would never send you back for doing that.” My voice is full of dark promise.
Her eyes drop to my mouth. Her glass trembles in her hand as she sets it down. My gaze keeps going to her bare shoulder. I’m desperate to trace my fingers over her skin. To feel her softness. To drop a kiss or two on it. She’s not wearing a bra—that much is clear. “You’re not wearing a bra, are you?” I ask, unable to stop myself. There are no brakes anymore. I can’t contain my thoughts or my words anymore. Not around her.
She shifts back uneasily on the stool, clearly flustered. “Mr. Knight …” Her skin flushes a deeper shade of pink.
She must think I’m a monster. She obviously doesn’t have these feelings for me. “I-I’m sorry,” I say, panicked. I can’t even think straight anymore. “You’re right. I’ve had too much to drink. I only wanted you to know that you look amazing.”
She licks her lower lip, the action sending a jolt straight through me. “Thank you, Mr. Knight.” Her voice is shaky. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to get rid of me. Brooke is having a lovely time, out here. Apart from that episode with Madison and her mother, she’s really in her element.”
I love that she’s so focused on my daughter, but this conversation is about us. “I don’t plan on getting rid of you, Cari.”
She laughs nervously, but I can hear the uncertainty in her voice. “You couldn’t anyway,” she adds with a chuckle. “I already resigned, remember?”
I hate that she’s talking about leaving again. I don’t want her to go. I’ve never wanted her to leave, but I can’t say that.
“Why are you leaving?” I want the real reason instead of the generic one she gave me.
She looks down at her hands, avoiding my gaze. Her brow creases. I only realize that she’s struggling to answer when she doesn’t say anything.
“Tell me, Cari,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I move back a little, giving her space because I don't want to frighten her. My thoughts are X-rated, but hers won't be. She might even be scared of me.
This collision course I've been careening on for months has brought me to this moment—I tried to move out of her way, tried to block her out of my thoughts by sending her on Alicia errands, but now I must face the truth head on. Because even though I'm her boss, I don't feel like it right now. I see her as a beautiful woman to whom I am ridiculously, impossibly attracted.
It’s not just because of her looks. Cari is a beautiful person through and through. But she also keeps me in check. On my toes. She makes me better. When the bear in me comes out, she stares me down and puts me in my place. She has more power over me than she realizes.
“I need ...” She chews her lower lip again. I know she's nervous.
A ray of hope explodes inside me. Does she feel this? A buzz of anticipation fizzes through my veins. I know when a woman wants me, when she's interested. With Cari, I've second guessed myself but here in Bermuda, I feel a stronger pull to her than ever. I’ve tried to suppress it—my feelings for her, the way I think about her. How I’ve been thinking of her, for many months now.
I’ve tried and now here we are. Something keeps me bound to her. Keeps her in my thoughts no matter how hard I try to dismiss them.
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