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The O Intention(38)

By:Skyla Madi


“So, your family is… intense.”

I pull the hand towel off of the rack and smile at him through the mirror as I dry my hands. “This dinner is actually turning out alright.”

“Because your sister is in trouble?”

I don’t deny it. “It’s nice to see her do something for herself for once. I’m happy for her.”

And it wasn’t a lie.

Jesse saunters closer. “She’s marrying a guy she met in Paris five months ago. It’s hardly a good idea. It’s dangerous and reckless… you should be helping your parents talk her out of it.”

I turn around and lean against the cupboard. “I’m hardly the person to talk her out of doing something reckless. You’re my boss. If they knew that, then Grace marrying a stranger from Paris wouldn’t be the biggest issue here.”

His beautiful, brown eyes thin into slits. “Am I going to be your boss forever?”

I hesitate. If Jesse and I start dating, legitimately dating, I’d have to find a new job, and I love my job. “I’m not sure.”

Ever so subtly, he flinches. He doesn’t want me to see it, but I do. Besides, when did his feelings change? When I put on a nice dress and pretended to be a ‘lady’? Not that long ago, he couldn’t wait for this whole thing to be over… I like him, I do, but I’m not sure if it’s enough to jeopardize my job or my comfort zone.

Jesse inches closer. “Are you really not sure, or are you scared?”

I think about his words. I’m definitely not scared… but maybe I’ll admit to being ‘unconvinced’. Jesse is handsome, smart, wealthy, and a million other things, but he’s yet to satisfy me. Most women claim sex isn’t important, but as a woman, I know that’s absolute bullshit. Sure, in the beginning it doesn’t really matter, but as the years pass, you kind of get tired relying on yourself to orgasm and before you know it, you loathe the idea of having sex. Well, that’s not happening to me. Not on my watch.

“To be honest,” I say. “I’m not convinced we’re a good match.”

He moves even closer and looks down at me with dark eyes. I swallow hard and press myself into the bench behind me.

“Doesn’t matter,” he states. “But that’s not what you’re truly worried about at all.”

“Oh it’s not, is it?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all. You’re worried I won’t be able to fuck you the way you want to be fucked.”

My throat dries. Holy shit. Never has the word ‘fuck’ sounded so good as it falls from full, moist lips. Heat rushes underneath my skin and I’ll be damned, I’m blushing like a fucking pre-teen. I open my mouth to contest him, but I barely get a word out as he rushes forward and crushes his body against mine. My entire body tightens as he slips his hand between us and moves it up under my dress.

“I’ll prove it to you. I’m going to make you come so fucking hard that your legs will threaten to crush my skull.”

Unbearable tingles cease my thighs as he nears their apex and I fight the urge to squeeze them together. “You’re good with words.”

“You don’t believe me?”

I want to. Oh, fucking hell, I really want to. “I believe you want to, but following through is another thing entirely.”

A wicked smile, unlike anything I’ve ever seen, curves his lips. It’s like every sinister smile I’ve ever read about and it’s right in front of me—barely an inch from my face. In a painfully slow movement, he drags his finger up the remaining flesh on my thighs and straight onto the white lace that covers my silky center. I gasp and my knees threaten to buckle. This is not happening. I’m dreaming—I have to be—Jesse would never touch me there, and most definitely not in my parents bathroom of all places. An electrical current begins to vibrate underneath his finger tips and pulses in consuming waves throughout my entire body. He doesn’t move his fingers. He doesn’t speak a word, but in his eyes I see his promise. Jesse wants to be more than this with me and he wants to prove that he’s capable of making me happy in all of the ways I want it.

“No.” I tell him.

He frowns, confused. “No?”

“No, you’re not going to be my boss forever.”

With a twitch in his lips, he cranes his neck and pulls on the hem of my underwear. A jolt of pleasure flares up my spine and explodes in fireworks over my scalp at the warmth of his touch. Our lips graze ever so softly and my lips part to let out a soft exhale. Then, the bathroom door opens, and Jesse and I separate before Mom can even gasp in horror. I straighten my hands over my dress and cover the exposed strip of thigh.