Overlooked(181)

Guilt assails me. I trust her more than most people but I still haven't been completely open about my past. I'm just not ready to confront those feelings.

"One of these days," I promise, turning my gaze back to the TV.

"Fine," she concedes, standing up to walk in the kitchen. "Do you want another drink?"

I smile quietly to myself, happy that I've purchased myself a little more time.







On Monday, I sit in my office sifting through emails, mentally preparing for the work day. As I type out a response to my boss about my latest report, my phone vibrates twice, alerting me to a new text message.

Absentmindedly, I grab the phone and scan the screen. The same number from Friday night stares back at me and I know it's him.

Butterflies rapidly invade my stomach.

Swiping up, I key in my passcode to reveal his message.

Miss me yet?

Heat rushes into my cheeks and I can't stop the smile that follows. Since his phone call Friday night, I've foolishly anticipated his next attempt at communication.

Not a chance, I type back.

He replies twice within a matter of seconds.

Liar.

What are you wearing, Ms. Chambers?

Instant arousal shoots through my core and I squirm in my chair. It is far too early for these sensations to assault me.

When I don't text him back right away, he abandons the text messaging and calls me directly.

"Tell me your secret, Grace."

I'm unprepared for how sexy he sounds first thing in the morning. His sinful voice is somewhat scratchy, as if he's just waking up.

The thought of him calling me from bed does inexplicable things to my swelling lust.

"What are you talking about?" I ask as I begin my new practice of folding and unfolding my legs in an attempt to relieve the building pressure.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since I left your office on Friday and I want to know your secret."

"I'll never tell," slips past my lips before I can stop myself.

Am I really flirting with this man?

His tempting laugh fills the line and I am filled with pride that I am the one to elicit it.

"You're something else, Grace Chambers. Listen, do you have lunch plans today?"

His question momentarily douses the fire in my loins and I slowly regain a portion of my senses. I have to remain firm with him or he will walk all over me and my rules.

"Mr. Wilcox," I say, attempting to sound stern. "I've told you already that this can't go any further than a working relationship."

Momentary silence is followed by the sound of him clearing his throat.

"I was going to ask you if I could stop by and discuss my account."

I'm so happy no one is here to witness the mortified expression on my face.

Jameson chuckles lowly.

"But I'd be more than happy to take you lunch instead. If that's what you want," he adds and I can almost picture the brash smirk on his face.

Words fail me before I gather my wits.

"I'm sorry. I just assumed - you know what? It doesn't matter. I'm free in the afternoon if and when you decide to drop by. I'll be happy to answer any questions you may have regarding your existing account or loan application."

I'm certain he can read my embarrassment through the phone because his next words mercifully spare me any further humiliation.

"Great. I'll see you around one."

"Great," I squeak out.

"I'm looking forward to it," he says before we disconnect.

Casting a glance at the clock on my office wall, I realize I have three and a half hours to prepare myself to see him again.

Three and a half hours to rein in my unruly libido and control my mischievous thoughts.







The rest of the morning passes in a mundane blur of phone calls and paperwork. When one o'clock rolls around I realize I have worked straight through my usual lunch hour and Jameson will be arriving at any second.

I shove a mint in my mouth just as a knock sounds at my door.

Jameson's imposing figure fills the doorway in the next moment, stalling my breath.

His beautiful eyes are piercing and focused on me. Unshaven stubble darkens his strong jaw and he's wearing all black again. Is it possible that he looks even better than before?

"Hello, Grace. This is for you," he speaks coolly extending something in my direction.

When I blink, I realize it's a tall cup of hot coffee.

"Thanks," I accept the proffered cup. "You didn't have to do that."

"Consider it a peace offering. I'll be on my best behavior during this meeting. You have my word."

A sense of loss settles over me at his words.

I should be happy that he's giving me what I want.

What I say I want. Yet, I can't help feeling like I've lost something.

Shaking my head, I sigh and push away the thoughts.

It's better this way.





Chapter four




GRACE CHAMBERS





"Grace, are you listening to me?" Jameson asks, snapping me out of my lusty haze.

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and offer a repentant smile.

"You seem distracted," he assesses as his head tilts to take in my features.

"I apologize," I sigh. "It won't happen again. What were you saying?"

"Anything in particular on your mind?" he asks, ignoring my question and trying to sidetrack the conversation.

His grin tells me he knows I'm distracted by him.

Who can blame me? The man embodies sex effortlessly.

"You were saying? About your account?" I refocus my attention on the present situation and call on my professionalism.   





 

We talk a few minutes more regarding his account and I refer him to an analyst at the credit union    to follow up our conversation.

Business concluded, he leans back in his chair making himself rather comfortable for someone who should be heading out the door.

I bite down on my bottom lip, anticipating his next words.

My actions have drawn his attention to my lips because he won't look away, even once he starts speaking.

"How was your weekend, Grace?"

"Uneventful," I reply, but I don't follow up to ask about his.

Not that he cares. He continues the conversation, at last tearing his gaze away from my lips.

"Mine was pretty dull, too," he says mildly before his gaze darkens. "Couldn't stop thinking about you though."

I shift in my seat at his confession. A rush of embarrassment fills me at how responsive I am to this man. The vibrator on my nightstand had received the workout of its life over the weekend. Yet, my thirst still isn't quenched.

"Did you dream about me, Grace?"

A startled gasp parts my lips as he looks on seemingly pleased with how easily he riles me.

"Of course not!" I sputter indignantly but the denial fools neither of us.

"You're a horrible liar," he teases without malice. "But it's cute. You're cute."

I want to swoon at his assessment of me, but I know better. He's probably baited countless women in the same way. It would do me well to remember that.

"What does a woman like you do for fun?" he continues his disarming line of questioning.

His relaxed posture in my guest chair is in stark contrast to my tightly wound nerves.

I decide to join in on his banter, hoping it will help me relax. If only a little bit.

"Why? What do you plan to do with that information?" I ask a few questions of my own.

"You're a feisty one. I like it," he says with an enchanting smile.

Before I can respond to his latest remarks, my stomach rumbles embarrassingly.

"Have you eaten, Grace?" he asks and I swear concern enters his tone.

"No," I admit uncomfortable with this level of attention. The flirting was fine but now he actually sounds like he cares about my well-being.

Not possible, I remind myself.

"I'm sorry I made you work through lunch," he says sincerely. The concern in his gaze is too much for me to process.

I wave away his concern, knowing that my face is probably crimson from all the attention.

"Let me make it up to you. Have lunch with me. I'm headed to grab a bite myself and I would love some company."

His offer is more than tempting but I shake my head anyway.

"It's fine, Jameson. I still have a ton of work to complete before I leave tonight. I'll be fine," I say assuredly.

"Work will be here when you get back, Grace. You shouldn't be skipping meals," he scolds unconvinced.

"I'll have a big dinner. The workday is almost over, no need to leave now," I reason.

He doesn't look pleased with my answer, but thankfully decides to let it go. I suddenly miss the playful side he revealed earlier. It is a lot less intense than the man currently sitting across from me.

"Whatever you say," he concedes, pushing himself to his feet. "Thanks for agreeing to see me at the last minute. You're a lifesaver."

I feel small as he towers over me so I stand to erase some of his advantage.

"It was my pleasure," I say dutifully and the damp state of my panties taunts me with just how true those words are.

"Take care of yourself," he says as an easy smile reclaims his lips. I breathe in relief at the welcome sight.

"I can walk you out," I offer, not ready for our time to end.

But he declines with a firm shake of his head.

"Save your energy for work, gorgeous. I'll see myself out."

I watch helplessly as he walks to my door and turns the knob.

Before he leaves, he throws a teasing dare over his shoulder.

"Don't forget to dream of me tonight."

I fall back into my chair and sigh like a contented high school girl. There is no doubt in my mind that he'll be the star of my dreams tonight and many nights to come.