Chapter 25

25

JJ

"Lena? Lena." I stand over the sleeping girl.

She's sprawled out on her side on the settee, her thick auburn hair around her shoulders. Her palm tucked under her face. Dark eyelashes fan her cheeks. There are smudges under her eyes.

So far, she's managed to rise to every challenge I've thrown her way. I hadn't meant to help her out with this presentation, but when I heard her and Isaac arguing I felt… Angry. With him. With myself.

It's not right that she's being pulled between us. It's not right that I'm still entertaining thoughts of her. I tried to distance myself, but look how well that turned out. She feels the pull between us and is as helpless against it as I am. Yet, she doesn't want to acknowledge it. And I get it. I really do. Isaac has youth on his side. He has his future ahead of him. Me? I'm set in my ways. I'm in the stage of my life where I should be thinking of my son's wedding. Instead, I'm eyeing his girlfriend. But it's not my fault.

I wasn't looking for this kind of attraction. I wasn't searching for something to add depth to my life. I wasn't looking to find someone who'd occupy my thoughts. Someone I yearn to catch sight of every day. Someone I want to hold in my arms and kiss, then throw down and fuck until she can't remember the name of any other man but me. She brings out a possessiveness in me, the likes of which I've never felt before. Not with any woman. Definitely not with the mother of my children. Not even when she was pregnant with them, and that's just wrong. How can I have such visceral feelings for a stranger? How can I feel so possessive about her, to the extent that I'm ready to fight my own son for her affections. This is insane.

I drop down on my haunches and whisper, "Lena?"

She doesn't stir. It's been two hours since she crashed. Two hours since I continued to work on the presentation while shooting glances at her, and throughout that time, she hasn't moved. Her lips are parted; her chest rises and falls in her sleep. I rake my gaze down her shoulders, the curves of her tiny waist, the flare of her voluptuous hips which ensnared me from the moment I set eyes on them. I push a strand of hair that's fallen over her cheek behind her ear. She continues sleeping. I reach out to touch her, then hesitate.

Yes, I touched her when she was in bed, under my roof. And no, I'm not going to apologize for that. My fingers tingle. My skin feels too tight for my body. I lean in closer, until my nose is at the hollow of her throat. I draw in a deep breath, and the scent of strawberries and passionfruit goes straight to my groin. My cock stirs and my heartbeat accelerates. Jesus fucking Christ, how could smelling her turn me on so much?

I lean back on my heels, then lower my head to the apex of her thighs and draw in another breath. The sweet scent of her pussy, combined with that deeper scent of her arousal, sinks into my blood. My dick instantly stands to attention. Fucking fuck. I shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't. She's asleep in my office. I told her I wouldn't move in on her while she was asleep. I lied.

She's never going to be mine. She's never going to leave Isaac. The only way I'll get to be a part of her life is through deceit. There, I've admitted it. It doesn't excuse what I'm about to do, but fuck that. I flip up her skirt. Her thighs are that rich warm brown that make my mouth water, and her panties are pink. Of course she wears pink panties with little white hearts on it. My dick lengthens. Jesus-fucking-Christ I'm going to hell for this. I brush my fingertips over the shadowy cleft between her butt that's visible through the fabric. She doesn't stir. Nice one Kane. This is what you've been reduced to. Feeling up your son's girlfriend while she's fast asleep on your couch in your office . And I'm a dirty old man. Might as well conform to the stereotype fully.

I ease my hand under the waistband of her panties, cup her pussy, and she moans. I freeze, stare at her features. That's when she turns on her back. She turns her head in my direction, her eyes still closed. Then she parts her legs. I stay where I am with my fingers up her skirt and in her knickers.

My chest hurts. My stomach is tied up in knots. A bead of sweat runs down my spine and… this is bullshit. I'm the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company. I'm the head of one of the most notorious underground syndicates in the world. And I'm standing here, moping over the fact that I can't have this girl? This is insane.

I'm about to pull my hand back when she squeezes her legs together. She rubs her thighs, trapping my palm between them. She pushes up so her pussy is nestled firmly in my palm. Oh, fuck. I watch her face, but she's still asleep. She parts her legs again, then subsides. Her breathing deepens again. I bend on one knee, continue to survey her features. I circle her clit, strum her pussy lips, and she moves restlessly. Bloody hell, I'm going to have to be quick about this. I ease a finger inside her pussy. And so help me God, but she's wet. So wet. So hot. I slide another finger in, then a third. I weave them in and out of her, in and out, never taking my eyes off of her features.

She wriggles her hips, moans again, but doesn't open her eyes. I plunge my fingers into her pussy and twist. And her entire body shudders. Her breathing grows labored. Her chest rises and falls; the peaks of her nipples stand out against the fabric of her blouse. I want to tear off her blouse, rip off her bra so her full tits spill out. I want to fuck her tits and come in her mouth. But since I can't, I'll settle for making her come on my fingers instead.

I increase the intensity of my actions, then rub the heel of my palm into her clit. Her mouth falls open, a low cry emerging from her lips. She bows her back and her entire body shudders as she comes, with her pussy fluttering around my fingers. I continue to finger fuck her gently through the aftershocks running up her body. Then, I pull my fingers out and ease my arm out from under her skirt. I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck. Her sweetness coats my tongue and goes straight to my head. She tastes like goddamn strawberries. I straighten her skirt, but before I can draw up her zipper, she turns on her side facing me. I pause, but she doesn't move. I reach over to raise her zipper, but she brings up a knee. Fuck. I manage to pull up the zipper. She shifts again. I pause again. Best not to push my luck. I rise to my feet, turn to leave, then hesitate. I shrug off my jacket, then bundle it up and lift her head to place it under her neck. She sighs, then snuggles into the jacket. Her breathing deepens.

I glance around, then walking over to the closet in the corner of the room, I open it and pull out one of the blankets I keep there for the nights I've needed to spend in this office, too. I turn back, reach her, and cover her with it. I'm only doing it so she doesn't get a cold because she's the one who has to present this pitch tomorrow. Yeah, that's all it is. I rub my chest, then spin around and walk over to my desk.

"JJ! Hey!" I snap my eyes open to find Lena staring down at me. The dawn light filtering in through the window highlights her features.

Her hair is mussed, her cheeks are flushed, but she looks rested. Her shoulders are relaxed. Good. She glances from me to the computer, then back at me. "Did you finish it?"

"What time is it?"

"6 a.m."

I crack my neck, roll my shoulders, then rise to my feet. "I've emailed the deck to you. Go over it once, and be ready to present the pitch by 9 a.m."

"I need to go home and change."

"So do that."

I brush past her, heading for the door.

"JJ, wait."

I turn to find her walking over to the settee. She holds the balled-up jacket out to me. "You forgot this."

I close the distance between us, take the jacket, and shrug into it.

"Thanks for letting me sleep here."

I shrug.

"And thanks for loaning me the jacket, and the blanket."

"It was an afterthought," I assure her.

"I slept really well, actually." She eyes the couch with a puzzled look. "In fact, I could have sworn I dreamed that?—"

"What?"

"That..." She purses her lips, then shakes her head. "Nothing, forget it. I've been dreaming a lot lately."

"Good dreams, I hope?" I can't stop my lips from twisting.

Her cheeks pinken. Then she tips up her chin. "It was all right."

"Just all right?" I frown.

"What's it to you?"

"Me?" I raise my hands. "Nothing at all. I'm glad you're rested. It'll help you win this pitch."

"Right." She draws in a breath. "Are you going to give me a lift home so I can change my clothes?"

"Oh, I'm not going home today. I keep an apartment just above my office."

"You do?" She blinks.

"You can find your way home on your own, I assume."

She scowls. "Can I use your car and driver?"

"Nope."

I turn to leave.

"Jerk," she mutters under her breath.

I pause, glare at her over my shoulder. "What was that?"

She frowns at me. "Why are you acting like a grouchy-ass bear again? I thought we'd reached some kind of understanding last night?"

I have… with your body. Too bad it isn't with the rest of you.

"Nothing's changed, girl. I'm still your boss, and you're my son's girlfriend. And I need to get going, or I'll be late for my breakfast meeting."

"So, it's back to calling me girl, is it, and—" Her eyebrows knit. "You have a breakfast meeting before the 9 a.m. pitch?"

I glare at her.

She pales, then glances away. "Of course, you do." She squares her shoulders, then walks toward me. "I'd best get my handbag and get home so I can return in time for 9 a.m."

"You'd best." I hold the door open as she passes. Then walk with her to the lift. The doors slide open, and she enters, then turns to face me.

"You may have gotten me dinner and covered me with a blanket while I slept, but you're still a selfish prick."

"And you're still an immature girl who doesn't know what she wants."

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way." She stabs the button on the lift and the doors begin to close. I plant my foot in between them, forcing them to stop.

"I'm still your boss. Treat me with respect."

"And I'm still your son's girlfriend, as you like to remind me so often. Treat me with the necessary decorum."

"Fine," I snap.

"Fine," she huffs.

I step back and the doors close. Fuck this shit. Fuck my fixation with her. Fuck the fact that she still has feelings for my son. That she can tell me off, and I don't have the guts to fire her because I want her in my orbit. The thought of not having a reason to meet with her, not being able to see her every day, is beyond my imagination. Bloody hell, I need to get a grip on myself. I need to break this hold she has on me. I need… a distraction. Something… Someone to take my mind off of her. She wants decorum? She'll get it. In spades. I pull out my phone and call a familiar number.