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Jett is distant and completely unattainable, like always. His face gives nothing away. I’m not involved in this conversation, and I might as well not be here.
Brooke chatters away happily telling him about the Crystal Caves. She twists in his lap to face me. “What were they called? Those pointy sticks.” Jett’s casual glance slides in my direction, making my insides electrify.
“The stalactites are the ones that holdtightto the ceiling, and the stalagmites grow up from the ground andmightone day reach the ceiling.” It’s shocking that I find the ability to think with the heat of Jett’s gaze on my skin.
Jett listens but still doesn’t pull me into the conversation. It’s as though last night never happened, like he’s reestablishing the boundary—the one we blurred after too much whiskey and those late-night, too-honest words.
The two of them continue talking while I stare out of the window trying not to fall apart. As I lay in bed last night, I concocted fully fleshed out scenes of me and Jett. But now he’s poured a bucket of ice-cold water over my sizzling dreams.
As he should.
When we arrive at the mansion and Jett opens the door. Brooke bounds past him and jumps out first. I'm about to open the door on my side when I notice that Brooke has dropped her beloved elephant. We both reach for it at the same time and our hands brush. The fleeting, innocent touch sends a shock through me and I pull away, flustered, meeting his gaze. For a second, the world tilts as his strong and sensual cologne wafts over me. I let go of the toy, and notice Jett’s lips twist like he's about to say something. He picks up the elephant and stares at it.
“It’s … it’s fixed. Who did this?” He sounds impressed.
“I did.”
His eyes settle on me, turning soft. “You did this?”
“I can sew, Mr. Knight. Besides, it was so tattered.”
“Thank you.”
I nod.
“After you.” His voice suddenly turns cold and businesslike again. The door on his side is open, and I obey, walking past him gingerly in a small space, trying my hardest not to touch him. But my chest tightens. Throughout the ride he hasn’t said a word to me.
But then again, I haven’t said anything to him either.
I wonder if, in the light of day, he’s so angry with me that he can’t face me. Maybe the man before me is the same miserable, turbulent Jett from before. The man I know so well, the one who hides his emotions behind a cool, detached exterior.
Chapter 25
JETT
I stroke my cock and grunt, replaying that scene in my head again. Of Cari in that dress. Barefoot and sitting beside me on a barstool, telling me she’d wear anything for me.
When we reached home, I told Brooke that I needed to freshen up and that we’d meet for dinner in thirty minutes. But the truth is, I’ve been hard for most of the day, trying to arrange the wood in my pants. Things just got worse after bumping into Cari. Even getting out of a fucking SUV is torture with this woman around.
My hand moves in long, hard strokes, helping to ease the tension that’s been building in my body all day. Tension I barely managed to release as I left for work this morning.
I come hard, streaking the glass shower door with thick, white lines. All because of her. Groaning out the last of my release, I press my forehead to the tiles. Water cascades down my body, but I can’t wash her off me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, wincing at the memory from last night.
You’re not wearing a bra.
Who the hell says that to their employee?
She’s been messing with my head and my cock. It started when we met in the bar. No, it was before that. When I saved her from near drowning. I can’t forget the way her body clung to mine in the water, the way her legs wrapped around me, the way her hands rested on my bottom, the way her fingers dug in.
When I’m around her, my cock has a mind of its own. It stood to attention when she caged me between her legs in the water. I had to jerk off in bed that night as well, because I had trouble sleeping. I left the sheets a tangled, dirty mess, all because of the feel of her.
And then again last night, seeing her in that off-the-shoulder dress. Like I needed any more encouragement to think about her.
When Ruby told me Cari had gone to meet with friends, I knew instantly who she meant. The thought of her with him—it made me insanely jealous. Still does.
That tells me something.