The O Intention(28)
“You might not have much to lose in the mix of all this, Alix, but I do.”
I turn away from her and head back to the ramp. I kick at the sand as I walk. I’m mad for allowing myself to fall into this mess. I’m mad I let someone like Alix into my head, and I hate the fact she has the power to manipulate me into doing things I’m certain I’d never do. How I let one woman with long brown hair, a snarky attitude and no respect for the comfort of others, completely throw me overboard without a paddle, over and over again, is beyond me. One more dinner, one more lunch and one more intimate moment and I’m done. For the sake of my own sanity, I’m done.
Chapter Eight
Alix
The taxi ride home sucks. The driver has his weird techno music up too loud, the air conditioning on too cold, and the seats are too hard. Who listens to techno anymore, anyway? Unfortunately, I didn’t have a great selection of taxis to choose from. You don’t get many of them out here this time of night. Most of them are patrolling the busier parts of the city looking for drunken people to scam.
I rest my head against the window and sigh. I hate myself—not because I let Jesse put my nipple in his mouth—no, that was fun. I hate myself because I didn’t think to bring a book with me. I should have known he’d bail on me and, quite frankly, I’m pissed he took it so far and then freaked out. That’s twice now I’ve been disappointed by him. Twice.
Even as the driver nears my apartment, I replay the moment between Jesse and me, over and over. A stupid idea, really. The more I think the about it, the more dissatisfied I feel.
Although he didn’t say what bothered him, I know exactly what it was. He doesn’t like public displays of ‘affection’. He prefers discretion. It’s his father, his career and his inability to enjoy himself that ruin all of our intimate moments. Despite that—despite his refusal to open up sexually—I still want to try. I could end this any day. I could pleasure myself, get it over and done with and move on (let’s be honest, it’s always better when you do it yourself anyway).
But…
That would be too easy, and as a woman, the easy road is something I mentally tend to bypass. And besides, no great romance can occur if one person takes the easy way out. I tighten my hands into balls against my thighs. Do I think what Jesse and I have is a budding romance? Is that what I want from Jesse now? I ponder the thought of being in a relationship with him and immediately quash it. Not only is he my boss, but he’s much too uptight and prudish for me. Who doesn’t lose their mind in the throes of passion, and who the hell wears a suit to a steakhouse? I don’t care how fancy the place is; denim fabrics and leather boots are always the way to go. Strangely, I find myself smiling at the fact he showed up in a full two piece suit. He looked good—crazy good—like Tom Hardy on your TV every second of every day kind of good. Jesse is something else entirely—a whole new species of male almost. I’ve never met a man that can arouse me and then piss me off all in the same minute.
As thoughts of him, and Tom Hardy, bombard me one after the other, I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together. It turns out, Jesse O’Ryan and Tom Hardy together in my mind is an aphrodisiac not even the damp smell and crap music of this taxi can destroy. It’s then, as my hormones race around my body and pool in places Jesse has yet to touch properly, I decide tonight is not over.
The driver pulls up outside my apartment and his chin duplicates as he turns his head in my direction. Before he can tell me how much the trip costs, I demand he keep the taxi running. I unclip my seatbelt and practically dive from the car. I don’t bother closing my door, and head for the stairs instead. As I walk, I can’t help the mischievous smile that pulls at my lips. For the first time ever I can finally say, ‘the night is still young’, and feel as sexy as I’m sure Scarlett Johansson does when she plays Black Widow.
***
The Tempt Hotel is quiet, much quieter than it’d been when I was working this morning. I pull on the hood of my black coat to shield more of my face as I make my way through the lobby. I don’t want to risk the security crew or the employees seeing me… which is kind of stupid now I think about it. If I don’t want what Jesse and I have to be exposed, then this is the last place I should’ve come. On second thought, no good story starts with following the rules; just ask Rose Hathaway (who has broken more rules than any other heroine). Her story was epic… and not as stressful on her sexual organs, I’m sure.
Luckily for me, I learned which room Mr. Jesse O’Ryan was staying in while he was away for a few days. I’m not proud of snooping, but I’m glad I did. Otherwise, I’d be running around like a chicken without a head right about now. With my head down, I manage to make it to an elevator. After I press the button to the penthouse suite, I hide in the corner with my back to the door just in case someone who knows me hitches a ride.