Babysitting a Billionaire #1 - Losing Control(28)

When she got back, she would rethink her future. Whatever she'd hoped, there was no way things with Jake could go back to what they were. As long as he was her boss, and his company subsidized the rent on her flat, she'd never be on equal footing. He wouldn't like it-might hate the idea-but after four years under Jake's thumb, it was time to take control of her life.

So she'd get a new place, a new job, and prove to herself that she could stand on her own. Once she'd done that, maybe she could make a success of a relationship with Jake, maybe even allow herself to fall in love. She still couldn't think in terms of marriage, but there had to be something in between.

Jake's hand tightened at her waist. He was awake. In a few hours, they'd be heading home, which caused an ache in her chest.

She needed him one more time.

"I can almost hear your mind working," Jake said.

She turned to face him, but he was he was already sitting up, dragging her with him. He flicked on the lamp by the bed, and light flooded the room. It was just after four in the morning, but she knew she wouldn't sleep again that night; she felt restless, unable to settle. Scared.

"Why don't we go up to the roof and watch the sun rise?" Jake asked. "It will be up in a quarter of an hour."

They found a rug and some cushions in the chest at the bottom of the bed and climbed up the tower, both naked. She shivered when they came out onto the flat rooftop, though the air was warm.

The sky was still dark. Only a faint line of tangerine to the east showed day was nearly upon them.

Jake laid the rug and cushions where they could watch, then sank down and patted the space next to him. She lay beside him, and he took her in his arms, lowered her back to the ground, and came down over her. He took her mouth in a melting kiss as his shaft pushed inside her. His lovemaking was slow, languorous, each stroke measured, concentrating the pleasure on the point where their bodies joined as one. And all the time he kissed her. Her lips, her throat, her breasts. She could feel the buildup of pleasure like a heaviness pulsing inside her, but she felt no sense of urgency. Her body knew him now, trusted him to get her there.

She kept her eyes open, and above her, the sky turned from midnight dark to palest blue streaked with crimson. And she experienced a moment of sublime happiness. If everything fell apart, she'd always have this one perfect moment to remember.

Wrapping her legs around Jake's waist, she pulled him closer, wanting to absorb him into her, really become one. He tangled his hands in her hair and stared into her face as he moved on her, in her.

But the sensation altered; she could sense it in the insistent throb of pleasure at her core, demanding to be gratified. Jake's muscles tensed, his cock swelled. He thrust deeper and rotated his hips against her, and she came in a slow wave of pleasure that rolled her over and sucked her under. She held on to the feeling as he relaxed his control and came a second later.

And in that moment, gazing up into the hard, handsome lines of Jake's face, she realized what a total idiot she was. And a coward. And the fucking queen of self-deception. Because it was already too late. She loved Jake. She'd maybe always loved him. Probably always would.

And that changed everything.

She didn't understand how, and she needed time away from Jake until she did. Time to figure out what to do next, how to move on. To decide whether she was brave enough to risk putting her life in someone's hands. Brave enough to risk that maybe it wouldn't always be perfect … that she wouldn't fall into that dark pit of despair if things went wrong.




 

 

Inside her chest, her heart was one big ache. She had to hold it together a little while longer.

He stared down at her with an expression in his eyes she didn't want to analyze. Fear coiled inside her. Something told her to move, get up, break the spell between them. But he was already opening his mouth, and she knew, just knew, what he was going to say, and she wanted to slam her hands over her ears to block out the words.

"I love you," he said.

She wanted to feel angry. This weekend was just supposed to be about sex, and he was breaking the rules. Instead, she had an urge to bawl her eyes out. To run away. But she couldn't do that to him. She was through running, even if she wasn't ready to give him the total capitulation he wanted. His expression was so full of love and hope that however terrified she was, she had to face him, tell the truth. She wouldn't be ruled by fear.

"I love you, too, Jake. I'm just not sure my loving you is enough. I'm not sure I can be what you want."

For a second, something close to joy flashed in his eyes, and then he took in the rest of her words and scowled. He rolled off her and lay on his back, one hand flung over his face.

"One perfect moment," he muttered. "You couldn't just leave it at that, could you?"

"But-"

He sat up and studied her as though she was some interesting specimen. "You know, you like to believe that you're over the past. But in fact, it dictates your every move."

She felt the first stirring of her own anger. And she grabbed on to it because it was better than fear or despair or any of the other emotions churning around inside her. She'd told him she loved him. Didn't he realize how enormous that was? Couldn't he give her a bit of space to come to terms with it? "Maybe the past is controlling me. But now I need to know that I can look after myself. I'm going to find a new job, move out of my apartment, and then we-"

He sliced a hand in the air to shut her up, and she clamped her lips closed.

"You still don't understand. You think being on your own means you're strong, when it actually means you're scared to love. Yeah, well, you know what? I'm scared as well-fucking terrified. But at least I'm willing to give it a try."

"I'm not ready for this, Jake. I want to be what you need, but I'm not sure I can." She hated the hint of desperation in her voice. "Why can't we be friends? Not forever. Just for now and I'll try to change. I-"

"Did you honestly imagine that we would have this weekend and then calmly go back to being 'friends'? I don't want a goddamn friend." He said the word as though it were something dirty. 

She realized that beneath his smooth facade, he was furious. She'd always known Jake had a temper, but he'd never taken it out on her before.

"Let me be perfectly clear," he continued. "There's no more 'genial boss,' no more 'nice neighbor,' no more 'fucking best friend.' I want a lover and I want a wife. And you have to decide if you can be that for me."

She swallowed. "And if I can't?"

He looked her straight in the eyes. "Then perhaps we both need to move on."

She blinked, her breath hitching in her throat. He couldn't mean it. "Is that an ultimatum?"

"Yes." He sighed and pressed the back of his skull as though to ease the tension. "Christ, your father warned me you were a problem. I should have listened."

"My father?" She remembered he'd mentioned her father before. "How do you know my father?"

He pursed his lips as if considering what to say to her. "I think you'd better ask him about that." He started to say something else, then scowled and got to his feet.

"Come on, princess, it's time to leave the castle. The fairy tale is over."

 …

Neither of them said a word until they landed back in London.

In a way, Jake was sorry he'd been so harsh. But maybe the truth was all he had left.

He hadn't meant to tell her he loved her. He'd meant to be patient and show her. But the moment had been so perfect and the words had slipped out.

Poor Kimberly.

She'd looked so shocked. Then sad.

The shock he'd understood-she'd been in denial. The sadness he wasn't so sure about. He didn't want her sad. Hell, he wanted to dedicate his life to making her happy, but the sadness gave him hope that his words had sunk in.

And she'd said she loved him. If she'd just given him a little time to enjoy that, then he might not have lost it. Wouldn't have given her that ultimatum.

She loved him.

But love wasn't enough.

Hadn't he shown her that he wouldn't always take control, that he'd let her take the reins as much as he did? Hell, he'd let her tie him up. That would never happen with anyone else. Did she not realize that he could deny her just about nothing?

No. Obviously she didn't.

His anger was mounting again.

He reckoned they both needed some time to cool down and consider what had been said. He couldn't lose her now. He'd almost reached true happiness that weekend.

He landed the helicopter on the rooftop and switched off the engine. They both sat in silence as he waited for the blades to slow. Then he turned to her. "I love you. I'm not going to pretend anymore."

"I don't want to pretend either," she said. "But I am scared."

"I know. But sometimes, you need to close your eyes and jump and trust that someone will catch you."

"Like out of an airplane without a parachute. Have you ever done that? Trusted someone to catch you?"

"Yeah," he said. "I've been doing it all weekend." And he was fucking bruised and battered from all the falls.

Her eyes widened as she digested that comment. But he was through pussyfooting around. It was out in the open now, and he intended that it should stay there.

"Go home, get some rest." He watched while she fumbled with the harness but didn't offer to help. "I'll send someone over with your bags." Though it occurred to him that she might have run back to her own apartment by the time he got home.