6. Leta

6

LETA

I don't know what I'm doing, going to this party with Jake. This wasn't part of our arrangement. I don't even know what I'm going as. Certainly not as his girlfriend or his date.

Are we even friends? That label sure doesn't feel accurate, either.

And yet here I am. Waiting for him to pick me up outside my house so we can go to some backyard barbecue at his CFO's house.

I'm jittery. I'm not usually anxious about social gatherings, but this one's different. I won't know anyone there, and attending a party filled with powerful, smart businessmen doesn't exactly instill confidence in me. I just hope I don't say something stupid and embarrass myself or Jake.

I look up the street and see a gorgeous black sports car coming toward me. I know instantly that it's Jake—no one in my neighborhood drives a car like that.

I walk over to the curb and he smoothly pulls over and rolls down the passenger window.

"Hey," he says, leaning over to greet me.

My heart thumps as I open the door and lower myself into his car. It's super clean inside and smells alluringly masculine, like leather and his cologne. As he pulls out onto the street, I glance over and see that he's more dressed down than usual. He's not wearing a suit like he has every other time I've seen him, but is instead in a dark gray button-up shirt and chinos. But even though his outfit is more casual, it still looks expensive, like each piece of clothing probably costs hundreds of dollars. On his wrist, he wears a large, heavy-looking watch with a leather strap.

I glance down at my own outfit. I'm wearing my favorite pair of curvy jeans and a cute light blue top. My feet are in slingbacks because every other pair of shoes I tried on with this outfit made me feel too casual and almost childish. I felt fairly confident thirty seconds ago when I was waiting for Jake to pick me up, but now I'm not so sure.

I'm about to ask Jake if I'm dressed okay, but he speaks first, as if he's reading my mind.

"You look great," he says, glancing away from the road, a subtle, sexy smile on his face.

Like that, my worries are settled. I smile back. "Thank you. So do you. It's nice seeing you in something other than a suit and tie."

"Thought you were a fan of my tie."

His words are suggestive, and I know exactly what he's referring to—the second time we met up at the hotel, he used his tie to secure my hands to the headboard while fucking me senseless. I loved the feeling of restraint and being completely surrendered to his control.

I send a teasing look over to him. "I can like it both ways, can't I?"

His eyes are back on the road, but he's still smiling. "Of course. You can like it any way you want, Leta."

It's not often that he uses my name, and when he does, it's always been in a moment of heat—mid-fuck, usually, when he's thrusting into me. To hear him say it now, when we're fully clothed and there's no possibility of this turning into anything more, sends a little shiver of pleasure up my spine.

About twenty minutes later, we're pulling up in front of a huge, gorgeous house in a neighborhood that I've never been in before. All of the houses here are big and beautiful, with lawns that are clearly tended to by hired gardeners. I feel very much out of place as we walk up the front walkway together.

Jake leads us around the side of the house and through a gate to a large back yard. As we step into the backyard, joining the party, he places a hand on the small of my back. It's an unexpected touch, and I like it.

"Jake! Hey, man. Glad you could make it," says another man, approaching us with a beaming smile. When his eyes fall to me, his smile gets even bigger, as if he's been looking forward to seeing me. "Hi, there. I'm Diego."

I smile back. "Leta. Nice to meet you."

"Can I get you two something to drink? We have everything. Marian's also making her famous margaritas."

"There's no way I'm passing that up," I say. "I'd love a margarita."

Diego points at Jake. "You too, bud?"

"I'm good," says Jake with a shake of his head. "I'll help myself to something else."

Diego dashes off, and I glance at Jake, who is looking around the yard, taking in the crowd. He looks serious, not at all relaxed. I try to think of something I could say that would make him laugh, but before I can think of anything, Diego is back with a frothy yellow margarita in hand.

"So, Leta," Diego says as he hands it to me. "Tell me about yourself. What do you do?"

I take a sip of the drink, the salt on the rim of the glass sparkling against my lips. "This is delicious . Thank you. And to answer your question, I run a tutoring center for kids."

"No kidding? That's awesome."

"She started it six years ago and built it up all by herself," says Jake. "She's helped countless high school kids get into college."

Wait…what? How does he know that? I never told him those details. I try to hide my shock, keeping my eyes on Diego. "It's very rewarding."

"I can imagine." Someone calls Diego's name and he shakes his head. "My apologies, but I'm being summoned. We'll talk more later?"

I smile and nod. After Diego rushes off, I'm finally able to look at Jake.

"How did you know that?" I ask.

"About the tutoring center?" he says. "I read it on your website."

I fight back a bigger smile. "You were reading up about me?"

"It's called due diligence. It would have been grossly irresponsible of me to have the company making donations to an unvetted cause."

Oh. Right.

Every time I think about that ten thousand dollar donation that Jake tried to make, I feel a little faint. I'm not much more comfortable with the hundred dollar donations that have been dropping in every day since then, but the fact is that I really do need the money if I'm going to stay on top of my new loan payments. Still, I'm determined to do something to raise extra funds. The sooner those donations stop, the better.

"Not that there wasn't also personal interest on my part," Jake adds.

His postscript prompts a little thump in my chest. "You have a personal interest in me, huh?"

The corners of his mouth lift in that irresistibly sexy way. "Indeed I do."

Don't get me wrong. It's terribly nice to be flirted with by a man like him. But it's also confusing. Just like how this whole outing is confusing. Why did he bring me here? Is he trying to make some kind of point? Was he forced into bringing a plus one?

Someone else approaches us and says something in business-speak to Jake. He gives the other man a brief reply and then introduces me. But it's clear that the other person only cares about grabbing a few minutes with Jake. I don't mind, and keep myself occupied with taking sips from my margarita and doing some covert people-watching.

Suddenly, I feel Jake's hand on my hip, pulling me into him. My drink sloshes in my glass as he leans down and captures my lips, giving me an unexpectedly heated kiss out of the middle of nowhere.

"What was that for?" I ask breathlessly as our lips part.

"You keep getting lingering gazes from other men here. Everyone needs to know that you're mine."

His words pulse through me. God, why is it so hot to hear him talk like that?

"Oh, so I'm not supposed to sleep with other men?" I tease him.

Darkness comes into his eyes. "You better be kidding."

I drum my fingers on the buttons of his shirt. "To be fair, we never discussed exclusivity."

Jake draws in a hot breath through his nostrils. "Then let's discuss it. Because in case it's not blatantly clear, I want you all to myself. And I have zero interest in being with anyone else."

"Well, Jake," I say, slow and smiling, "you'll be glad to know that I feel the same way."

His chest eases with relief. "All right. I'm happy to know we're on the same page."

"Ditto."

Jake's eyes drift to the crowded yard around us, scanning in that serious way again. "You good if we head out?"

"Already?" I ask, my brows lifting. "I haven't even finished my drink."

"After you finish your drink, then."

I take a sip, still looking at him curiously. Is there someone here he doesn't want to run into? Why does he seem so uncomfortable?

Jake's eyes drop to my glass, looking impatient. I take one more sip, then set my glass down on the closest table. "Okay. We can go."

He looks relieved as he takes my hand and guides me through the crowded yard back out to his car. I try to let go of the questions I have about his odd behavior, but as we drive away, the wheels of his sports car whirring over the pavement beneath us, I can't stop wondering what I'm missing.

"Why did you bring me to that party, Jake?"

He answers without taking his eyes from the road. "I wanted you there with me."

"But why ?"

"Because I like your company."

That's nice to hear, but I'm still confused. "I like your company, too, but…sorry, I'm just confused. I thought what we had was just a sex thing. Is it not anymore?"

It takes him a while to answer. "Honestly, I don't know, Leta."

"Oh." I swallow, nerves suddenly rushing through me. "Are you saying you want us to date?"

"I don't know." He clears his throat. "I just know that I like you." He sends a glance my way. "Is that something you want? For us to date?"

I'm not prepared for his question, and I don't have an immediate answer. I haven't let myself think of Jake in any way other than the hot guy I'm sleeping with. Of course I'm ridiculously attracted to him, and I have very much enjoyed the time I've spent with him…but the idea of dating him feels like a whole other realm.

In a way, it feels backward, us potentially going from no-strings-attached sex to actual dates. I don't even know if it would work. But what do I know?

"I need some time to think about that question," I say.

He laughs a little. "Fair enough."

I look over at him again, still struggling to understand the man sitting beside me. "Was there someone at that party who you were trying to avoid?"

"Uh…no?" he says, clearly confused by my question.

"Then why did you seem so uncomfortable? And why did we leave so abruptly?"

His expression changes, but I can't interpret what it means. He looks…vulnerable, maybe? Ashamed? It's so hard to read him sometimes.

"I've never felt comfortable at social events," he says quietly. "I know it doesn't make any sense. At the office, I have all the fucking confidence in the world. But the second I step into a backyard party, it feels like I'm on the verge of having a panic attack."

His admission surprises me, but it all makes sense now. He's human. He's complex. He's far more than the bossy, powerful CEO that he presents to the world. I tilt my head, trying to catch his eye. "Are you okay now?"

He doesn't look over at me, but he nods. "Yeah. I'm good."

The interior of the car falls quiet for a few moments. Then he adds, "I've never told anyone that, you know."

"Thank you for telling me."

He slows at a red light, and finally looks over at me. His eyes are warm and focused. "Where am I driving you, Leta?"

I smile at him. "What are my options?"