Page 17

17

Reagan

Jesse didn’t come back to the house after taking Bea to school, so he must have headed to the clubhouse to work. Or maybe he’s sleeping there since I know he didn’t sleep last night. It would be an easy way to avoid me.

He barely met my gaze this morning, and even if I shouldn’t have expected more from him, it hurts seeing how much he regrets what we did. And with Margaret out for the afternoon and Bea starting school today, I have all the time in the world to stew in those thoughts.

I replay the past twenty-four hours while I clean the house top to bottom, trying not to think about it.

Music was supposed to help, but every song makes me think about Jesse in one way or another. In one night, we’ve managed to crack our already fragile dynamic.

At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before he kicks me out to save himself the trouble of facing what we did. After all, he made it clear—he’s not the kind of guy who entertains relationships that last longer than a night. And he definitely doesn’t bring them anywhere near Bea.

We’ve crossed more than one line of his.

I couldn’t help myself. Standing in front of Jesse last night, I was lost in his eyes. I needed to see every side of this man who is the most intricate puzzle. A man who stays up all night working for his club but still finds time to bedazzle his daughter’s backpack first thing in the morning.

The biker.

The father.

The protector.

And now the sex god.

Because holy crap. Whatever he did to my body under the stars defied the laws of the universe. He fucked me like he was mad at me for how much he wanted me, and I drowned in it.

He fucked me like he wanted to ruin me, and I begged him to do it.

I’ve been the good girl my whole life. The good daughter. The protective sister. I did what was necessary to make everyone around me happy. But last night with Jesse, I wanted a taste of the freedom everyone else talks about.

I wanted to make a bad decision and not second-guess it. To prove to Jesse that I can handle it.

Or maybe I wanted to prove it to myself.

After all, people fuck dirty and walk away all the time. Clearly, Jesse is one of them. He has a bedroom dedicated to that purpose at the clubhouse .

Who says I’m not allowed to do the same?

Except now he’s in my veins. Clawing at my chest. Pulsing in my core. One thought of Jesse and I’m frozen, standing at the counter with the wet sponge, leaving a puddle on the tile with how hard I’m squeezing it.

It’s pathetic.

My fingers grip the sponge tighter, and water drips down my leg. I snap myself out of my dirty thoughts and grab the water bucket to clean up the mess I just made. The house is spotless. Proof of just how anxious I am about what happened last night.

When things spin out of control, I fix them. When the world becomes messy, I clean it.

It’s all I can do to keep it together.

Glancing at the clock, I see there’s still three hours until Bea is out of school, and I’m a mess from cleaning. My hair is wild, and my clothes are going to have bleach spots. I make my way into my bedroom to take a shower, but the moment I’m about to step inside, my phone rings.

It’s distant, which means I must have left it in the kitchen.

What if it’s Margaret?

Or Jesse?

Or my sister?

I tie my hair up in a knot and grab a towel to cover myself as I dart through the house. But when I turn the corner to the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks.

Jesse is standing at the counter, looking as tired as he did this morning, and still way too good in jeans and a T-shirt. He’s already stripped off his cut and boots and left them by the door like he usually does when he gets home, and it shows off how his thick shoulders stretch the fabric.

I take another step forward, but he doesn’t look up from where he’s staring at my ringing phone.

“Who’s Lincoln?” He hits a button to decline the call, but it just starts ringing again almost immediately.

Shit .

Jesse’s gaze slides up to meet mine, and I feel every inch of exposed skin on display with this too-small towel wrapped around me. His heated gaze roves me head to toe, pausing on my thighs before his stare snaps back up. A collision of lust and irritation brews in his bright-blue eyes.

My phone rings again, and I jump.

“He’s persistent.” Jesse narrows his gaze.

“Yeah.” I force a smile, but I know it’s not fooling him as I hurry to the counter and grab my phone.

I turn it to silent and make a mental note to block this new number because I must have forgotten after he texted from it this morning.

“Reagan.” My name lands like lightning in a quiet room. “Who is Lincoln?”

Jesse already rarely trusts anyone outside of the members of his club. If he knows what I’m running from, he’ll just have the confirmation he’s been looking for that I’m more trouble than I’m worth to him.

“Lincoln’s my boss.” I try to keep my breathing even as I look up and face him .

We’re standing closer than I realized. Jesse still smells like he did straight out of the shower. A delicious mix of soap and cologne.

“Your boss?” He ticks his head.

“My former boss, I mean. He was the principal at the school I worked at.” It’s not a lie.

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t answer.” I shrug, trying to brush it off, even as I’m sure my phone is silently ringing again on the counter.

But Jesse doesn’t break my stare or let it go. He towers over me with a stony expression, refusing me an inch of space.

“He’s probably just checking in since I left town so quickly,” I say when I can’t bear the silence.

“Why would your former boss care about that?”

“He’s probably just worried.”

“About a former employee? Are you sure that’s all you are to him?”

The way he hangs on the past tense of the situation is all the confirmation that he’s not going to just let this go.

“We hung out once outside of work…” I drop my gaze. “That’s all.”

Jesse hums, and I wonder what he thinks of that. If he knew the extremes in which Lincoln has been trying to get to me, I doubt he’d be as calm.

After a long pause, his blue gaze drifts to my phone, and he picks it back up, finding it locked.

“What are you doing?”

He hands it to me. “Send me his contact information. ”

“Why?”

“He’s harassing you.”

“He’s not—” I shake my head. “We were friends.”

“Why aren’t you answering his call then, Reagan?” He cuts me off. “Why can’t you look me in the eye when you answer any of my questions?”

I hate how easily he reads me.

“It’s fine. I’ve got it under—”

“Send me his information.” Jesse’s jaw ticks.

“I don’t need you to protect me.” I snatch my phone from his hand, holding it at my side and refusing to do what he’s asking. “I got along fine before you.”

“I’m sure you did, sweetheart.” A dark smirk climbs the corner of his mouth as he steps closer, and I clutch the towel tighter to my chest. “But now you’re my employee , not his. And clearly, he needs to be reminded of that.”

“Your employee?” It hurts to repeat it.

It shatters whatever spell I’ve been under all morning. Thinking last night changed something.

“Well then…” I step closer, jutting my chin up at him as every cell in my body is on edge. “As your employee , you’re not entitled to my personal business.”

Spinning on my heels, I start to storm away.

“Reagan.”

“What?” I ask, not turning around or stopping, even if I’ve slowed my pace.

“We’re not done with this conversation.”

“Says you.” I glare at him over my shoulder and see he still hasn’t moved from the counter .

His body is tense, and his jaw is clenched. Which is when I realize there’s more in his eyes than irritation or protectiveness. He’s jealous. And like Jesse always does when I push his buttons or get too close, he’s shutting me out for self-preservation.

“I have ways of getting this information whether you want me to or not, you know.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Is that a threat?”

“He’s harassing you, Reagan.”

“He’s making sure I’m okay. And it’s none of your business.”

“Everything about you is my business.”

I pause halfway down the hall, spinning around. “How? Because I’m living in your house? Because I’m your daughter’s nanny? Or because you fucked me? Sorry if, as your employee, I’m getting a little confused as to what you mean by that.”

I don’t wait for him to answer as I turn my back on him and continue down the hallway. Blood boiling. Irritation grinding between my teeth.

Employee .

That’s not what I was last night, kneeling in the dirt sucking his cock.

Which is why I can’t help giving him a final fuck you before turning the corner into my bedroom. Because I’m pissed. Or maybe because I want to prove that he can shut me out all he wants, but I know the truth—I affect him .

Shooting a final glare at Jesse over my shoulder, I stop in the doorway just long enough to drop my towel. Then I walk into my bedroom and slam the door behind me.