“I ummm, think I need you to look these over in your office,” I chirp brightly, deliberately getting up to
walk sexily into his room without a backward glance. I make sure I walk to his desk in full sight of the
open door and bend over enough to slide the file down, just enough for my jacket to ride up, exposing
my tight skirt, hugging my butt, lifting one foot slightly as though I’m reaching out, so my legs look
shapelier in the confined material. The door shuts behind me almost immediately, his hands running up
my thighs and igniting passion; I’m turned and thrown over his shoulder instantly, letting out a small
squeal and giggle as he marches me toward that internal door.
* * *
I stretch out in my chair and arch my back, my desk is littered with papers, my laptop, files, and an
overwhelming amount of random crap. It’s been a hard few days, not made any easier by my
oversexed boss-lover and his attempts at dragging me into his cupboard at every opportunity. He’s
succeeded more times than I want to admit, making that couch almost like a bed away from home.
He’s finally settled down into some sort of work routine and left me alone today. I can see him through
the open door, head down as he types, focus intent, that old Carrero frown in place, showing he means
business. I watch him for a few seconds, that familiar that swell of love inside of me. I can’t stop it,
every time I look at him, I have to pinch myself that this is real, that I’m really here. He senses my eyes
on him and glances up, throwing me a knee weakening smile, his youthful boyish, ‘I’m way too hot to
be legal’, smile. I beam back and turn away, not wanting to give him too much encouragement. It
doesn’t take much to send that libido spinning out my way lately and I only just managed to get really
absorbed in my work.
I hear his phone ring and he sounds agitated when he answers, I know without confirmation that it’s her
again. Ever since our return they have argued non-stop. He’s refusing to sit down with the lawyers until
they can come to some sort of middle ground on where I fit in on this whole thing.
I’ve told him so many times that I shouldn’t be a factor in this, that I’ll step out and keep my distance
until the baby is born for the sake of peace. He’s adamant he won’t let her dictate his life and I know
that stubborn streak too well; he will never back down. He’s not capable of backing down when he’s got
the bit between his teeth, that side to him won’t let him.
I tune out and focus back on what I’m doing and try to ignore the way his tone and anger are rising
slowly or the way my stomach aches at the thought of her.
* * *
A little after noon I get up and take him through the files I’ve gone through, some contracts he needs to
check, a new start-up he’s interested in investing in, and some minor publicity suggestions from Wilma.
He’s glaring at a document in front of him, obviously unhappy with something contained within and it
makes me smile. Despite loving him as boyfriend, the Jake I missed most was boss Carrero and his
multitude of facial expressions when he was absorbed in something mundane. He has a face that can
say a million things without opening his mouth, when he isn’t maintaining his poker face that is.
“Hey,” I utter softly and his chin lifts to look at me.
“Hey,” he replies with a smile, getting up and coming around the desk to pull me against him. I glance
back to see if anyone is watching through the open door and catch Rosalie turning away quickly. I try to
push myself away, but he only tightens his grip.
“Stop caring about what people will think or say.” He nuzzles my neck, making me melt against him a
little too readily. I really have no willpower when it comes to his touch.
“It’s easy for you to say that … You intimidate everyone … No one would say a thing about you, for fear
of your wrath. They all think I’m some sort of gold-digging whore who’s bedding the boss to get my job
back.” I sigh. He brings his face to meet mine, glaring, obvious he doesn’t like what I’ve said.
“I’ll fire anyone I catch saying that,” he growls seriously, his tone a tad harsh and sadly, I know he
means every word. I push away from him and straighten my clothes, making it clear that I need to go.
“I’ve got to go to Queens to meet Sarah.” I remind him. “I need more clothes and things from the
apartment, and I need to sit down and talk to her properly before she goes to work.” He steps forward,
closing the gap between us again and kisses me on the mouth, taking a moment to linger with his lips
against mine. He has one hand on my face, holding me steady, slow grazing of lips and brush of
tongue. It’s hard not to react when he kisses me this way, the urge to grab him and kiss him harder
makes my fingers twitch. He finally steps back.
“Jefferson is already waiting.” He straightens my jacket and smooths down my blouse, lingering over
my cleavage with a naughty smile that gains him an indulgent one back.
What am I to do with you?
“I’ve a meeting with my lawyer while you’re gone, we’ll eat when you’re back, miele.” His fingertips
come up to stroke my lower lip tenderly, his eyes focused on mine.
“She isn’t going to be too pleased when I tell her you’ve asked me to move into your apartment full-
time.” I add. We briefly talked about this last night, him adamant and even though I want nothing more
than to curl up in his bed every night, a part of me knows the thought terrifies me and Sarah will be
upset at the speed this is all progressing. It’s all happened so suddenly; we are moving so fast. He
shrugs, that infuriating mannerism of his when he couldn’t care less about someone opposing what he
really wants.
“She has her live-in boyfriend … You two rarely see each other because of your work schedules.” He
moves back around his desk, sliding back into his seat and picks up the file he’d thrown down. “It’s
going to happen, Emma … Whether it’s now or in a month or two … You think I’m going to be happy
with living apart for long?”
“You don’t think this is moving too quickly?” I tried to talk this through sensibly, but he closed me down
every time, stubborn and set on what he wants. Typical Jake, it’s always how he wants things and I get
no say unless it is to agree.
“Nope … We practically lived together when you were just my PA. Why is this suddenly something
scary? … If you don’t want to do it then just tell me.” He sits back in agitation, childish pout face
appearing, indicating I’ve hurt his feelings. He pushes away the file, in an almost mild temper tantrum.
Little boy Carrero.
“I do want this,” I retort quickly, trying to smooth the ruffled feathers of my man child. “It’s just, it’s
serious, Jake … What if spending all this time working and living together makes you feel caged in …
Restless … I just want to be sure that you’ve thought about it. I mean, you went from serious man-
whore to a one-woman man overnight.” I move to the chair beside his desk and sit down, moving closer
so outside ears won’t be able to hear us. “I’m just worried this is so full on so quickly that you’ll start
missing being free and single.” I look away from him to the view outside, cursing myself for letting Miss.
Insecurity show face again. He sighs then leans forward so our heads are close, his hand comes to find
mine and pulls it between us. He starts playing with my fingers between his thumb and forefinger,
dwarfing my hand.
“You’ve got to stop thinking that way, and you’ve got to stop measuring our relationship from the night I
told you I loved you … I’ve loved you for a lot longer than that, I’ve wanted you for months. Our
relationship started over a year ago, Emma. There’s nothing rushed about where we are now, if
anything, I’ve had the patience of a saint to wait this long to ask you.” He smiles, his killer Casanova
Carrero beam and I return it; he knows how to play me so easily.
“I don’t want you to get fed up with me … Constantly being together can’t be healthy.” I add gently.
“It won’t be like that, we’re still enjoying being together in ways which we never allowed, this is the
honeymoon period. When we get comfier, we’ll do things apart … You and Sarah, Leila … Sophie … I
still want to go out with Daniel. I have other friends too that you probably wouldn’t be comfortable
around. Friends I really wouldn’t trust near you. I’ll still have to take some solo business trips when
things are hectic, and you’re needed here. There are no rules, we make them up as we go miele.” He
strokes my fingers, voice low and sincere.
I know he’s not saying it, but he also means trips to LA once a month, too.
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