Ruthless In A Suit(57)
We make love again before morning. The more we explore each other, the less shy Emily becomes and it’s such a turn on. When her hand is on my dick, I can’t think straight. If it’s ever in her mouth—and God I hope it will be—I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it. For now, though, all I care about is pleasing her. That makes me plenty satisfied.
“You are making me absolutely crazy,” I tell Emily in the morning, holding her gaze. “You’ve got my mind in disarray and my heart pleading for more. Not to mention my body…”
“You’re doing the same to me,” she says.
“So what should we do? Spend every second together?” If I could swing it, I would do it. Believe me.
“I don’t know,” Emily says. “I’ve never really been in a relationship before.”
“Is that what this is? A relationship?”
“Do you want it to be?”
She’s not looking at me, and I can feel the hopefulness in her words. I don’t know what I want from Emily, but I want her, all the time.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” I tell her. “I’ve never really been a relationship guy.”
She snuggles closer. “We’ll figure it out. No pressure.”
“No pressure,” I echo.
When we do say goodbye later the next day, I feel closer to her than ever, but also unsure of where it’s all going. I feel more strongly about Emily than I have about any woman in my life. Clearly, being with Emily—forever—would fit nicely into my father’s demands of becoming a family man and I could take command of Croft International as I was born to do.
Still, I’m leery of rushing the relationship. I don’t want to push Emily and frankly, I don’t know if I could be the man she needs me to be. Work has been my whole life. Now I’d almost give it all away to spend every waking moment with her. The worst thing I could do would be to use her. I won’t do that to her. So I forget about the will and Father’s demands and do as Emily says—figure it out. I don’t know when or how or what will happen, but for now I intend to enjoy simply being with her.
Emily
He’s got my head absolutely spinning.
Every moment with Jackson feels like the first drop of roller coaster—exhilarating and dangerous. When I’m with him all I want to do is touch him. When touch him I want to be closer to him, and when we’re not together I can hardly get him out of my mind. I am addicted.
I’m trying to concentrate on school and work and keep my head out of the proverbial clouds. It’s not easy.
The week after the luncheon, Brent wasn’t teaching. Professor Stanwick mentioned Brent was ill, and although I didn’t want the guy to be sick I was glad not to have to see him. I wasn’t sure how he would act after what happened. I figured he was embarrassed that he got pushy with me, and having someone as powerful—physically and otherwise—as Jackson put him in his place probably didn’t help his ego.
When Brent finally came back to class, I’d been so in my own world of Jackson that I hardly noticed him, although I did think he was a bit icy to me when I asked a question about his lecture. I still didn’t think much of him even when Natalie told me after class something he said when she ran into him at a café.
“I asked him how the luncheon had gone,” Natalie explained. “And he said, ‘Why? What’d Emily say?’ I told him I hadn’t even talked to you yet and he said, ‘She better keep quiet unless she wants her shit to come out.’ I was like, oh-kaaay.”
At first I thought, Whoa. Why so aggressive? But I didn’t tell Natalie the whole story. I honestly didn’t want to embarrass Brent. I still thought he was a nice guy—always a nice guy—who had a little crush on me but who wouldn’t stand a chance against Jackson Croft in anyway, from looks to intelligence to downright sexiness.
Today is a work day, not a class day. Some days are both but today I go into the office for a full day.
I’m eating a late lunch at my desk—salad in a Tupperware bowl—when I get a text from Jackson.
You won’t believe this. I have a free hour. Meet me for lunch?
He suggests a restaurant in Faneuil Hall that’s sort of between our offices.
I look at my salad, mostly eaten. I look at the clock—it’s one-thirty. It’s a little strange to take lunch so late but we’re not exactly punching in here. And of course I want to see Jackson. I haven’t seen him in so long—thirteen hours, at least. I went to his place last night when he finally got home from the office. I spent the night, and found a room in his house that I don’t think he knew existed. I teased him that there was probably a small family living somewhere in that doublewide that he had no idea about.