The O Intention(30)

I survey Jesse’s face. There’s an intensity I’ve never seen before, and it both thrills and terrifies me.

“If you want to do something, do it.” I tell him, curious for his response.

“I want to do a lot of things.” He replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it wouldn’t be right.”

“Nothing we’re doing is right. Lunches, dinners and an orgasm? Tell me how often a boss and his employee make a deal like that?”

A new found heat rises in the pit of my belly and I can’t ignore it as it forces me to slip closer to Jesse. Lifting my legs, I lock them around his hips and squeeze him closer to me. Through his slacks, I can feel hid hard cock. It presses against my center and it takes everything I have not to grind myself into it.

“There’s no point trying to pretend you’re not doing anything wrong, Jesse. You’re bad—just like me—only I have the balls to admit it, and to do something about it.” I slip my fingers into his hair and pull his face closer to mine—until my bottom lip grazes his. “There’s more to what we’re doing, isn’t there?”

I run my tongue along his dry bottom lip and his breath hitches.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and I look him dead in the eyes.

“Figure it out.”

I plant a soft kiss on his lower lip and push on his shoulders. He sits back on the heels of his shoes and watches me, confused as I slide off of the couch and reach for my coat. I try not to make eye contact with him as I slip it on and handle the buttons. I’m confused too. Did I ask him for a relationship? I don’t think so, but I’m sure it can be interpreted that way.

Oh god.

How did he interpret it? I clear my throat and try not to think about it as I turn away from him and march over to my shoes. Without a glance over my shoulder, I slip them on and exit his suite before I can say or do anything else I’m not certain of.

I pull my hood up as I walk to the elevator and as soon as I’m inside and descending the floors one by one, I close my eyes. While I definitely enjoyed myself, I know I should’ve forgone this whole plan and stayed home with a book. You can re-read a chapter, but you can’t redo a real life situation.





Chapter Nine





Jesse



I roll onto my back with a sigh, and glance at the digital clock above the wall mounted flat screen. It’s been two hours since she left and I’m still awake thinking about her, and what she did. I never expected her to show up here; not in a million years. I mean, I’ve dreamt of it, and I’ve imagined it during meetings, but I never thought it would happen. In my imaginings of it, she never had to please herself and she would never orgasm just the once. Over and over I would make her break apart—on my hands, on my tongue, on my cock—fuck! My hard erection aches and I wince as it tents the bed sheets.

Defeated, I reach for my phone off the side table and squint as I unlock it. Despite my better judgment, I scroll down to her name and click the message icon. I hate texting… mostly because I don’t have the time or the patience to read the damn things. Regardless, I type one out anyway.



To: Alix. Time: 2:24 am

Did you arrive home safe?



I wait barely a minute for her response but the minute seems to drag on forever.



From: Alix. Time: 2:25 am.

I left your place hours ago and you’re texting me that now? Ohh… wait a minute. You’re lying awake in bed, aren’t you?



Her cocky arrogance comes through clearly, even in text, and as badly as I want to ignore her now that I know she’s at home safe… I don’t.



To: Alix. Time: 2.29 am.

I’m not the only one lying awake in bed it seems. What are you doing?



My phone buzzes. Man she texts fast—much faster than I can. I ignore the thrill that zaps my organs as her name flashes up on my screen. In the back of my mind, her previous question nags at me. There’s more to what we’re doing, isn’t there? I suppress it, refusing to think about it right now.



From: Alix. Time: 2:30 am

I think ‘what are you wearing’ is the sexier term… I’m reading. What about you?



To: Alix. Time: 2:34 am.

I’m trying to sleep… trying being the key word. Thanks for that. You should sleep. I checked your schedule. You start early tomorrow.



I re-read my text over and over. Perhaps I shouldn’t have let her know I was checking on her. Then again, if I didn’t want her to know I wouldn’t have told her. Her question rears its head again and I push it to the very back of my mind.



From: Alix. Time: 2:37 am.

Checking my schedule? I bet that made you question what exactly it is you want with me…As for sleep, you know what they say: ‘one more chapter’.