by E. H. Lyon
That kiss has been on constant replay in my head, and I admit I wasn’t in my A-game today at the negotiation table, but I feel I am getting closer to the most important goal of them all. Jess and me.
Picking up my phone, I see I have a new text from Jess, but it’s just a reminder that she has a sitter over as she sometimes does so she can get a few hours to herself.
I’m not that beat anymore.
In fact, I may have a plan.
I’m about to head out, but there is a quick knock on my office door and I look up to see Molly.
“Sorry to bother you, but I checked the bank statements like you asked,” she informs me as she stands in the doorway.
“I already know the answer, don’t I?” I sigh.
Molly looks at me with a frown. “Yeah. The one your father had set up for your… well, it’s working fine.”
Oh gee, he finally did something right. A little too fucking late there.
“The other accounts are all fine too. But Jess hasn’t used the account for Sam once yet,” she confirms, and I’m not surprised.
“Sounds about right. Thanks, have a good evening.”
Jess is so damn stubborn and it borderlines on infuriating, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like that challenge from her.
An hour later, I head home to Jess and Sam. After the sitter eyes me up and down, and I am pretty sure I hear the word handsome, I am going to take a wild guess that the retired-aged lady takes a fancy to me. She lets me know Jess is upstairs taking a bath.
No hesitation, I head upstairs straight to Jess’s bathroom. As soon as I enter, I take in the view of Jess under a cloud of bubbles that cover her with her hair tied up on her head.
“Uhm, thanks for knocking?” She’s sarcastic and moves quickly to sink deeper into the water, resulting in water spilling over the edges.
I lean against the sink and cross my ankles to enjoy the view.
“We need to talk,” I tell her as I begin to unbutton my dress shirt. Her eyes are following the trail of my fingers working down my shirt.
“W-what are you doing?” She stumbles with her words.
“Joining you, of course.” My eyes don’t break our hold as I continue with my shirt.
A nervous laugh escapes her. “No, you are not.”
“Why not? I’ve seen you naked before, a damn fine view. You’ve definitely been wet in front of me before too, and my guess is your thighs are subconsciously parting for me under the water out of memory of what I can do to you.” I draw that sentence out as my gaze watches her intensely and her jaw moves side to side and her tongue swirls inside her mouth. I tilt my head slightly to the side. “Plus, we can conserve some water for the dolphins.” I let a soft grin form.
“Absolutely not,” she remains firm.
“Oh, those poor dolphins then.” I stop unbuttoning my shirt. “Your loss, but we do need to talk—”
“I told you, we forget about what happened in the kitchen last nig—”
I interrupt and cut to the chase. “You haven’t used the bank account for Sam.”
She sighs, leans back in the tub, and her foot comes out to rest on the ledge, which means her legs are wide open under those bubbles with a perfect trail to Venus. Internally, I am telling my cock to stay in control.
“I don’t need your money,” she reminds me.
“Jess, I really don’t want to argue over this. I want to provide for Sam and you, so use it. Use it for whatever he needs, diapers, groceries, the house. Hell, if the kid wants a pony, then use the damn card. Use it for yourself for all I care, go have a spa day, buy lingerie, whatever you want. Just use the card.” I’m firm and direct, because I am done messing around with this.
She looks at me slightly entertained. “What does my lingerie supply have to do with Sam?”
Did I say that? Oh, silly me. Maybe it’s because she’s in front of me with a layer of soap being the only barrier between me and her.
I decide to maintain my upper hand.
Speaking as I go to grab the folded towel near the tub, bending down to breathe into her space and making her flinch. “Because, Jessica, Sam needs a relaxed mother and we both know what makes you relaxed.” My voice is on the edge of husky and low. I purposely pick up the towel with one hand and stroke her cheek at the same time with my other. “Your hand under the water is doing what I only assume it always does when you think of me,” I whisper, and her mouth drops open.
“How have I missed your crass remarks?” she manages to whisper back, but it still drips sarcasm.
“Finally, you admit you’ve missed me.” My cunning grin comes out before she splashes some water at me. I return to standing and walk back to the sink. It means she will have to give me a show if she wants the towel.
“Can I have the towel, please?” She scowls.
Grabbing the towel, I hold it up in the air. “Only if you agree to go for a drink at Matchbox with me.”
“Not happening. I tend to get pregnant if I go there with you,” she deadpans, and her eyes don’t blink.
I have to smile at her humor. “Come on. The sitter is here. We are just two co-parents having a drink together without a screaming child around. We can grab a late dinner,” I try to justify.
She looks around the room and lets out an exhale. “Now I have to have a drink and dinner with you to get the towel?” She tries to hide her amusement but fails miserably.
“You could just walk to me and grab it?” I invite her with my head cocked to the side with a grin.
“Fine. Now, can you please bring me the towel and look away?” she demands.
I walk to her and hold the towel out. She clears her throat to hint to me that I need to look away, and I do—I mean, I am a gentleman.
Hearing the shifting of water, I can feel her heat hit the towel and her hands accidently brush mine to grab the towel edges. I help wrap the towel around her while my eyes look away—okay, I may have gotten a peek in the mirror, her error, really.
“I will see you downstairs in twenty, okay?”
Twenty minutes later, I’ve changed into dark jeans and a blue button-down shirt with a casual blazer, sitting on the sofa waiting when I hear Jess coming down the stairs. She is in a casual black dress that is slightly off the shoulder, but she approaches me like a bird catches prey with a sensual grin.
“Can you help with the zipper?” she asks as she pulls her hair to the side and turns her back to me. This must be payback for the bathtub because she could easily have zipped this by herself. But no, she wants to taunt me by letting me see her lacy forest-green bra and drown in the smell of her freshly bathed skin.
“Absolutely,” I remain defiant. I take the zipper in between my fingers and ever so slowly pull the zipper up. Making a point to stop near her bra clasp that I gently caress with my finger and making her catch her breath for a beat before I finish the job. Letting my fingers glide along her shoulder while I lean into her. I breathe against the skin on the back of her neck. “All done.”
I feel her shiver.
It takes her a second before she turns around to me. “Thank you.” Her look is of a woman who is adamant to have the upper hand.
The bar is buzzing as everyone in the room dances along to a band that plays a mix of bluegrass and indie. It’s a great energy in the place. As we work our way into the bar, Nate pulls me aside and whispers the numbers for the week which makes me smile. A few minutes later, I head to Jess with two beer bottles.
The woman who once agreed to have a night with me here. This night could go anywhere, and as much as I would love to get that dark green lace bra of hers on the floor, she has to lead the way.
“Your token beer,” I hand her one.
“I never asked, why is this place called Matchbox?”
A short laugh escapes me as I scratch my chin. “Because matches set fires.” It comes off direct and simple. “We were young and everything was a party. Needed a lot of matches.”
“And now that y
ou are a grown adult?” she muses.
I feel my cunning grin coming out because I know what I answer will affect her.
“I guess now as a more mature individual who knows what he wants, I know that sometimes if there is a spark… you need to light it. You may need matches for that.” My gaze watches for her reaction.
She must be remembering that night when she said just because there is a spark, doesn’t mean you need to light it. Jess seems taken aback and lets her tongue glide along her inner cheek.
After a second, she clears her throat.
“So, is this what we’re going to do every co-parent night when we have a sitter?” She tries to speak over the music, and I lean into her ear, because really that’s the only way she will be able to hear me.
“Nah, this is too traditional for what I have in mind for you. But sounds like you’ll agree to a weekly co-parent night, just you and me?” I grin, and I realize I may be playing with fire.
Yet her body gives me an inviting look. “Perhaps up for negotiation,” she suggests into my ear. She is flirting again.
“Negotiation is something I’m good at,” I warn her while placing a hand on her lower spine to get her out of the way as someone walks by.
“You are also good at giving me a headache, so not really sure where you’re going there.” She gives me a fake look of concern.
“Oh, if you’re not feeling too hot then I am sure Nate can unlock the back office here for us so we can have a quick tension release session,” I casually say then swallow a sip of beer and let my hand go to her lower back to pull her closer to me.
Because someone most definitely is not trying to pass by.
“You are determined,” she beams.
“Jess, just relax. Enjoy the music.”
And to be frank, she knows I’m right and she should enjoy the vibe in the room and being off mom duty. Really, this music and crowd is catching. Out of left field, she grabs my beer and she sets our drinks on the bar. Her hands grab mine and lift them over her head as she leads me to the crowd. My look must tell her that she is in trouble if she moves any closer.
Our bodies press together, and I admit I feel a little lightheaded. Yet, the good kind. She lets her head fall back as I pull her closer and my nose nestles into her neck. Thank the fashion gods that she has a dress that’s off the shoulder so there’s more skin for me to tease. Our bodies dance together so perfectly.
She is guilty as charged as she decides to tease me and lets her lips come near mine, and our mouths do a little dance of barely touching. All I would have to do is inch closer and it would be game over.
“Maybe we should continue where we left off last night,” she murmurs loud enough into my ear.
My eyes blink and I turn to study her to make sure that I just heard her say what I think she just bluntly said. Her heavy breathing confirms that I am not going crazy.
Yesss.
Grabbing her arm, I drag her to the corner of the room where it’s a little quieter.
“You’re right. Out of our system,” she clarifies, not blinking as her eyes meet mine. “What you said last night. My way. No complications,” she reminds me.
My arm snakes around her waist to press her tight against me. God, we are a great fit together. With my other hand, I reach to frame her face. “Fine. Out of our system. No complications,” I confirm.
“We have a teething someone at home who may interrupt us,” she raises the concern, but weakly as if it isn’t a deterrent.
“I hope to God you don’t plan to never have sex in the house if Sam is around. That is just insane,” I tell her seriously, but the corner of my mouth is cracked from the humor of that idea. “But let’s skip dinner and get a hotel room. Sam can’t interrupt us and it’s a neutral place.”
She looks at me baffled, yet her mouth tugs, amused, and I clarify. “The sitter is home; I will pay her quadruple if it means tonight is going to happen.”
“We are not spending the night. It’s purely sex. Nothing changes between us. We have Sam to think about,” she counters, and that makes me smile at how her plan has so many flaws.
“Agreed.” Because me pursuing her wouldn’t be a change. “Shall we?” I confirm with a grin forming as I hold my arm out.
She nods and leads the way.
This is probably not a great idea… for her. You see, I know her logic of this being purely sex will fail her. Which is exactly what I want. Because this woman is every complication I could want and then some.
Chapter Fifteen
Jess
This is a bad idea, a total lapse of judgment. Goes against all my boundaries for us. I was staying firm with my standpoint, but I was cracking, and he offered me a loophole, a promise of no complications. The fact that he may be right that we won’t last the next 18 years without slipping up in our attraction was a fair point, which had already crossed my mind. So might as well just cross this off the list.
I know this is not one of my smarter ideas, and I admit there is faulty logic behind needing to get something out of your system. It normally never works. It didn’t work last time. Probably won’t work this time, and if I make it to a next time, it will still fail.
But this scenario is too tantalizing, too once-in-a-lifetime. Maybe that is my brain on overdrive, my body just craving to be touched as it hasn’t been since that night.
Curiosity, because maybe it feels different since having had a baby. And in this twisted world, it is Leo that eases me away from that thought. The man I was last with is the man to welcome me back to the world of O’s.
My curiosity of what the world looks like if I cross the line is too strong. My restraint has been granted a break.
Taking a deep breath, I let the keycard go over the door and the little light flashes green. As soon as I enter the room, I can’t help but smile to myself. Leave it to Leo to get an expensive suite when a closet would have done the job just fine.
Looking around, I debate where to sit or lay and be waiting.
For him.
Purposely, I went ahead to the room and made Leo phone the sitter to let her know we would be slightly later. I didn’t want to walk in with him waiting. No, I need to set the tone.
Already, though, my heart is racing and my core is tensing. Debating if I should be fully clothed when he arrives, I look into the mirror and see my dress and simple heels. It isn’t for him. The forest green lace bra underneath may just be for him.
Taking a deep breath, I move the off-the-shoulder sleeve a little more off the shoulder and throw my heels off. Then I turn around and debate between the chair, the bed, or to wait by the window. Quickly I go to close the first layer of curtains at the window but sitting in the middle of the bed wins.
My eyes gently close when I hear Leo putting his key card to the door. Nerves shoot up from my stomach to my throat, taking a pit stop at my heart. The moment I hear the door click open, my eyes shoot up.
And he is devastating. Handsomely devastating.
All night he has looked like this, complete with a little stubble on his face.
He walks slowly towards the bed with that brash grin, that cunning look, the one that says he knows what he is doing.
To trust him.
He stops a few feet before the bed, unbuttoning his top buttons.
“So, we are doing this.” His eyes narrow in on me with an entertained smile.
Kneeling in the middle of the bed, I bite the corner of my mouth.
“I don’t always think clearly around you, as proven by that one night we decided lots of sex with each other was a grand idea. So, yes. It seems we are doing this,” I snicker, yet there is a subtle smile formed on my face and that just makes him look at me with more heat as I know my feistiness turns him on.
“What happens here is only here,” I remind him. “At home, we are purely two people trying to co-parent, nothing else.” I let my eyes roam his body and the room all at the same time.
“Okay,” he says with a slight
ly smug look on his face.
“We don’t mention this again. As soon as we leave this room, we forget it. This is only sex—we can check it off the list for being able to co-parent.” Now my eyes manage to lock him in a gaze, confident with my words. But his look remains determined.
He nods in agreement with that sly smile of his. “You’ve really thought this through,” he comments.
His blazer falls to the floor and he begins to unbutton the cufflinks of his shirt and that is the sight that melts me into a thousand pieces every time. He is preparing himself, because he has the experience to guide us where we need to go—in bed, that is.
“And if you are allowed rules then I should be allowed one too, right?”
I consider his question and it does seem fair. “Okay.”
“I lead the way and you follow.”
I try to hide the smile to myself. I had already planned on that as I do recall his ability to be slightly dominant in the bedroom which is how I like it. But he doesn’t need to know I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Agreed.”
He seems satisfied as we look at each other.
“Maybe we shouldn’t kiss on the lips. That may make it more complicated.” I shrug a shoulder on that line, because even I struggle with my suggestion on that one. And considering that kiss from last night, I know I am bordering on insanity.
He looks taken aback and studies me for a few seconds, letting his head tilt ever so slightly to the side. Even lets out a little hum.
“Fine, I’ll play along. But Jess, the way this is going to go. What I have planned for you. You’re going to be begging me for it by the end,” he warns, with his lip quirking up as he glides towards the bed, stopping when the mattress against his legs acts as a barricade.
His statement makes the corner of my mouth slant into a very entertained side grin.
My eyes follow every step of his journey, my body is turning boneless. He looks as though he has a point to prove.
