Chapter 3

chapter three

J ensen woke the next morning, his head pounding and his cock stiff. He’d barely slept. Every time he fell asleep, Nicola had been there in his dreams—her enticing body and seductive voice keeping him awake for hours. He glanced down at his erection and grimaced. What the fuck was wrong with him? Last night should have been easy. Just some fun time in a room, but every woman had left him cold.

Now, he wished he had that problem. There was no denying the tented sheet or the raging hard-on that acted as it’s pole. So, instead of finding a willing woman, he had spent the night dreaming of Nic. His fantasies were getting out of hand. Hell, it had been so vivid, he was sure he could smell her scent on his sheets. He licked his lips. Fuck. He didn’t need reality when he could still taste her from his dreams.

Fucking bloody, bloody hell.

The woman was driving him mental. He had never been this obsessed with anything in his life. Scratch that. Heroin. That had been the one other instance that he hadn't been able to deal with his fixation.

What the fuck was he supposed to do about a woman who he couldn't have? Ever . Usually, he didn't become enamored. He had always believed he didn't have the gene that people talked about. Those people who fell in love, loved being in love, wanted to be in love. No, he was different. He had a friend liken it to a drug addiction. Jensen had already had that in his life. No. He wanted nothing to do with it. Or her.

There was that other side of it too. She worked for him. He would not disrespect her that way. He didn’t want to give her up because she made life as a Wulf livable. And not just for him. She managed all of them so well, including his mother. That right there was more than any of them had hoped. He had to deal with her and he kind of liked having her around. He rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He was a bloody mess.

He glanced toward the door, but knew he needed to do something about the hard-on before even attempting to get dressed and going down for breakfast. With a sigh, he pushed himself up and off the bed. He padded barefoot into the bathroom. The cool tile felt good beneath is feet. He still wasn't sure if it had been a good idea to buy the house, but he did like it. His brother had said it would be best to have a home base, and his sister had said she could use it for vacation. Neither of those two would probably spend much time there. The light, airy feeling usually left him feeling calm.

He turned on the water and stepped into the shower. He bit back a scream. It felt like ice pelting his flesh. Damn. This was worse than he had expected. Still, it was what he needed.

As he stood there, letting the water slide down over his body and icicles form in his blood, it didn't do anything for his erection. He glanced down. The one-eye bastard stood at attention, soaked with cold water.

“Fuck.”

He wrapped his hand around his cock and started to stroke it. He was painfully aroused, beyond just that morning erection. Each day seemed to get worse, but this morning the situation had gotten ten times worse than yesterday. The fact that he could still function enough to stand erect amazed him. No matter how he stroked himself, he didn't gain any relief. None. At this point, he was sure if he took an ice bath, it wouldn’t subside.

Grimacing, he realized what he needed. Or rather who. His eyes slid closed and she immediately appeared there. Her hair was down, spilled over her shoulders like silk. Water slid down her breasts, dripping from her nipples. Jensen could almost hear that little sigh she had. She released it in pleasure, usually over some kind of chocolate treat, but every time she did, his cock stood at attention begging for her caress. That sound had haunted his dreams more than once. Now, he used the memory of it to aid his release. Faster and faster, he stroked his hand up and down his shaft. Pressure built as he imagined her there in the shower, kissing her way down his stomach to his cock. Her hand, her mouth on him. The image of those full lips wrapped around his dick as she looked up at him with her ice blue eyes pushed him over the edge. He came, groaning with relief as he allowed pleasure to wash over him.

Long moments later, he leaned against the wall as he let the water clean the cum off his body.

He had no problem with masturbation, and as an adult, he had no issues with guilt. Still, he felt...unfulfilled? No, he had come, but he wasn't truly satisfied. No. This was something else, entirely. It was as if the fantasy was no longer doing it for him. That his obsession with Nic was now leaning into unhealthy territory.

* * *

Nicola slipped off her sunglasses and looked out over the pool to the Pacific Ocean. She was an adult, in her thirties, but every time she called her mother, she felt as if she were thirteen years old and getting caught breaking curfew.

“Are you going to at least take some time off, Nicola?” her mother asked.

Nicola sighed. “Yes, Ma ma . ”

“You work too hard.”

What she meant was Nicola had not given her any grandchildren. Nadia McCann was ready for grandchildren, and she didn’t mind telling Nicola every chance she got. She still hadn’t told her mother about Serenity’s pregnancy. That would probably end badly for Nicola. Her mother would start discussing how much younger Serenity was than Nic.

“But will you have time to relax?”

“Yes. In fact, Jensen is going to Maui next week. I’m staying here and I plan on poolside relaxation and probably a massage or two.”

“Good. You know working like you do could lead to other issues.”

She didn’t respond. Her mother was being a little pushier than usual. And that was saying something. Her mother emailed every crackpot report about fertility she found.

“Nicola.”

“Do you have something bad to tell me? Are you and Dad doing okay?”

She noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Jensen walking across the lanai toward her. He had a massive cup of coffee in his hand. He was dressed down for the islands, or as dressed down as a Wulf would get in public. His tropical shirt was subdued in colors, but it had flecks of green within the design. His khaki pants were expertly tailored—no Wulf wore off the rack. He looked like a damned model. And, he looked...well, yummy. Dammit. Not yummy. No. He looked good. Good. And delicious. She wanted to take a big bite out of that perfect ass of his.

Dammit.

“Nicola, are you listening to me?”

“What? Sorry, Ma ma.”

“I said your father wants to go to a couples-only retreat.”

She blinked. The tone her mother used struck her as odd.

“I heard they are nice.”

“Nicola. I know you do other things in your sex life that I do not.”

Damn, she sometimes regretted telling her mother so much about her life. Too much maybe, but because of her childhood, her mother had been her best friend.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Why are you opposed to couple’s retreats?”

Jensen had walked out to look out over the ocean, but he turned and looked back over his shoulder. She shrugged.

“I am not into that.”

“Into what?”

“Swinging.”

She pulled the phone out from her ear and looked at it, then returned it to her ear. “Excuse me?”

“These retreats are for swinging, switching partners, yes?”

Her mother had acclimated to western life so easily after moving to the US, but she was a little na?ve.

“No. It’s just a place where there are no children. You have to be eighteen and older for most of them.”

“Oh. No swinging?”

“No. He just wants to take you some place romantic and relaxing. That’s all.”

“Hmm. No wonder he looked hurt when I yelled at him.”

She bit her lip trying not to laugh. She didn’t want to hurt her mother’s feelings. “Tell you what. Go talk to Dad and make up. Jensen is up so we can chat about all the work we have to do.”

“Hello, Mrs. M,” he called out.

“Tell him I said hello.”

“ Ma ma says hello. Go find Dad.”

“Okay. Make sure you relax.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you.”

She hung up just as Jensen settled in the seat across from her. “So, what was going on with your mother?”

“My father booked a weekend at a couples’ retreat.”

“I got that much.”

“She thought it was some kind of swinging couples’ thing.”

He didn’t say anything for a second, then threw back his head and laughed.

“It isn’t that funny.”

“I just love that your mother has been in this country over thirty years and just does not seem to be sullied by it. She remains almost innocent.”

“Stop talking about my country that way,”

He gave her what she called his little boy smile. It was lopsided and he rarely shared it with anyone outside of the family.

“Oh, you agree with me on some accounts.”

She sighed. “Yes, especially when it comes to relationships. But then, my mother met my father after being in the US for less than six months. They were married three months later. Before that, she never dated.”

“Your mother never dated? She was what—twenty?”

“Twenty-three. Remember, all she ever did was skate for Czechoslovakia. You didn’t have a personal life then.”

“She was singles, so no partner like you had?”

She nodded. “All right, are you ready to work?”

But as soon as she finished her sentence, Marta stepped out on the lanai, a tray filled with food in her hands.

“Ah, here is Marta to save me from the grindstone.”

“We can work over breakfast.”

“Only a heathen American would suggest that.”

Marta set the tray down on the table. “Good morning, Mr. Jensen.”

“Good morning, Marta. This looks scrumptious,” Jensen said. He plucked something off the plate. “Scones. Brilliant.”

Marta blushed on que. All women did that when he used that tone with them. It was what got them through so many negotiations, it worked when handling interviews, and probably got him more than one beautiful sub for the night. When she realized she had fisted her hand so tight around her teaspoon that her knuckles had turned white, Nicola pulled herself back.

What the hell was that about? But even as she asked it, she knew it was jealousy. Stupid, completely useless jealousy over a man she was barely attracted to. Okay, more than barely. A whole lot attracted to.

God.

“What’s wrong?” Jensen asked. He had removed his sunglasses and was studying her.

“Sorry. Still kind of off from the flight over.” She smiled at Marta. “This looks fabulous. Mahalo.”

She smiled at Nicola. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I think we’ll be fine.”

She left them alone. When Nicola picked up a plate and started to fill it, she ignored the silence from the other side of the table.

“Nic, you want to tell me what that was all about?”

She glanced at him, then back to gathering her breakfast off the tray. “What?”

“You looked ticked off.”

She set her plate down and looked at him across the table. “Nothing’s wrong, Jen. I said, I was just tired from the trip.”

“No.”

She frowned. “No? I did say I was tired from the trip.”

To demonstrate it to him, she poured herself some more coffee. “See.”

“No. You told me once you acclimate well. All the traveling for competition taught you how to deal with extensive travel. I remember it particularly well.”

Jensen had one of those minds that never forgot anything. To prove his point, he had to tell that story. Again.

“We had just landed in LA three years ago—you remember, right after you started working for me. And I got sick. Stomach was all topsy-turvy and you told me to suck it up. You said you were a woman and you dealt with it. Learnt it from your days on the road as a skater. Remember?”

Of course, he remembered that. He remembered everything.

“How was I to know that you had food poisoning?”

He grunted but didn’t continue berating her. Instead, he gathered up enough food for a small army and started to eat.

“Good appetite,” she commented.

“I always have a good appetite. Well, except when I was using.”

“Hmm.”

He looked up from his plate and studied her again. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“There is something off this morning. Did your night go badly?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Had a fabulous time. Serenity is expecting.”

“Expecting what?”

She rolled her eyes. “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh, hmm. Is that your reason for feeling off?”

“Why would that make me feel off?”

“She’s younger than you...and now having a baby. You know?”

“No. I. Don’t.”

Jensen was usually better at handling her anger. Granted, many times she knew he did it to get a rise out of her. Now though, he seemed to genuinely be acting like an asshole.

“The old baby ticker has to be ready to ring sometime soon.”

She felt her temper rise. It didn’t happen that often. In fact, Oliver had often said she was cold as the ice they skated on. When her temper got going, that ice could shatter.

“The baby ticker? Oh, right. All women are just dying to have children because we aren’t real women without them.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Why don’t you tell me what you meant?”

“I don’t think I want to do that. And I truly don’t like your tone.”

“Then you shouldn’t be such a total jackass.”

Irritated with him and herself, she grabbed her coffee and rose out of her chair.

“When you are through with breakfast, I’ll be inside working. Something I like to do...mostly alone.”

She stomped off across the lanai and into the house. She was better off in the cool air of the house than dealing with Jensen.

* * *

Jensen watched Nicola as she made her way to the house. He had done it on purpose. He’d been raised better than to say rude things to a woman in the manner he did with Nicola. It was the only way to put distance between them. If she was angry with him, she’d be cool to him. No more fun banter, sexy smiles, and maybe—just maybe—he’d be able to fight this need that kept building inside of him.

He’d walked outside just a few seconds ago thankful that he had relieved himself of the tension that had been growing. All he had to do was hear that warm tone in her voice and the calm he’d created had slipped from his fingers in a matter of seconds.

One more glimpse of her rounded backside before it disappeared into the house along with every other luscious inch of her. With a groan, he shoved his hand through his hair. This was just not going the way he thought it would. Worse, he felt like a perv. Nicola might forget it sometimes, but she worked for him. He was not some bloody sexual predator. It had never been his thing to seduce a woman who worked for him or for his company. It was just not done by Wulfs.

All of that didn’t seem to matter because he wanted her. More than was good for him or her. He’d learned control, but with her, this woman who coordinated everything in his life, he couldn’t seem to control himself around her. He was sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with that one.

He rolled his shoulders and decided he needed to buck up and be a man about it.

Now he just had to persuade his cock not to stand at attention begging for a pet every time he was in her presence and he would be right as rain.