“Baby, no!” Jake’s disappointed voice breaks into my sleepy state. “I had plans for you.” His voice is husky and thick, but I’m too tired to open my eyes.
“I’m exhausted,” I sigh, enjoying his hands on my face and his body's heavy weight on top of me. He smells good, a little too good.
“You’re such a lightweight, Bambina. I’m going to have to build your stamina up.” He kisses me on the forehead and rolls off me. “I’m going down to the gym with Daniel to expel some excess tension, seeing as you’re out of order. We’ll talk tomorrow about Leila, okay?” he murmurs, a finger stroking my cheek. He’s watching me with appreciation as I attempt to open one eye and focus on his gorgeous face inches above me. “We’ll be an hour or two. He’s spending the night. Sleep, Bambina.” He leans down, kisses me on the mouth again, and leaves me to get the first decent night’s sleep since I was pulled into his arms on that dance floor.
* * *
I wake up alone in the huge bed, but Jake’s side is messed up as though he’s been here. I glance at the clock on his side; it’s early, not even 6.00 a.m. yet. I vaguely remember him telling me that he needed to get back into his routine, early morning jogging and gym, now that we’re home. It seems that having me in his bed means he no longer drags me out to run like he used to; he’s neglected it since we’ve been together. Not that he needs it with all the extra activity lately; I certainly don’t. I roll over to his side and inhale his pillow. The whole bed smells of him, his aftershave, and his personal scent, which is more comforting than any other smell. I wrap my arms around his pillow, sigh heavily, and fall back asleep.
I wake again with the alarm at seven and hear him in the shower; it sounds like he’s singing, and I stifle a giggle. I close my eyes and listen intently. He’s surprisingly melodic.
Actually, he’s more than melodic. Jake has a sexy singing voice. I’m more than impressed.
I’m swooning at this incredible talent he has. He sounds like a singer from a band I was obsessed with in my teens, husky yet boyish. He could easily pull off soft rock with a voice like that. Desire overtakes me, and I slide out of bed and pad into the open bathroom; I strip off and slide into the shower behind him. He senses my approach, stops singing, and turns, catching me and pulling me under the jets with him.
“She’s awake!” He kisses me, wet-faced and smelling of his familiar citrus shower gel.
“Barely. That sexy voice called me through here.” I wrap my arms around his neck as he maneuvers me under the water and starts running his fingers through my hair, soaking it and letting it trail down my neck. He picks up the shampoo bottle.
“My irresistible singing in the shower had your heart all aflutter, did it?” He dollops the shampoo in his hand and massages it roughly into my hair and scalp.
“Maybe. Calm the hands, Carrero; you’re not washing a dog.” I put my hands over his to slow down and ease his motion, helping him wash my hair. We stand for a moment while my hair is rinsed clean, his eyes flickering up and down my full length. I pause to reach for my shower gel, and he stops my hand.
“After …” He gives me a naughty look I’ve come to know so well, then knocks the breath out of me with his mouth against mine. In seconds he hoists me up to straddle him around the waist and pushes me back against the cold, tiled wall behind me. Deepening his kiss, his arms around me tightly, he grinds against me with a fever that overtakes us within seconds. My body never fails to react to this man.
“Do we still need a condom?” he asks gruffly, hands holding me up, and I shake my head. He remembered. I’d begun oral contraception before heading out on the yacht with him, the doctor assuring me we should be okay to stop with condoms after two weeks, which would be today.
It feels amazing to no longer have anything between us, just skin-on-skin. He makes love to me up against the tiles, slow and deliberate. His mouth explores me and brings me to dizzying heights effortlessly as we savor the new sensation. Water continues to pour overhead, the noise muffling out my moans and cries.
* * *
On my own feet, I lean back against his body as he washes me. I am completely relaxed, my body tingling and my breathing labored. He bends down and kisses my shoulder and neck as he strokes and lathers my skin, his hands massaging me seductively. I could lie back and fall asleep this way; he has no idea how much I trust him, how soothing his touch is. I could curl naked around him and let him do whatever he wanted to me for an eternity without any fear or doubts.
“Baby?” he breathes softly behind me as his hands come down over my shoulders and back, softly massaging the soap into me with confident strokes, tracing patterns with his fingers across my skin.
“Mmm-hmm,” I hum, completely mesmerized by his hands.
“After you went to bed, I got a call. I need to go to LA tonight. We’re finally sitting down with the lawyers tomorrow; Marissa’s agreed to some of the terms I laid out.” His tone is wary, and I stiffen. “I want you to come with me.”
I close my eyes and shake my head impulsively. If he’s going to see her, I don’t want to go. I don’t want to sit in a hotel twiddling my thumbs or pacing around, waiting for him to return. I could be here at work or with Sarah. Not obsessing over the two of them sitting across a table talking about a linked future with their child. The thought makes me feel sick.
“I don’t want to go to LA,” I utter quietly. He moves closer, pressing against my back, his hot body heat warming me, but it doesn’t help my internal chills.
“I don’t want this to become something we fight about.” He runs his finger down the back of my neck, sending shivers through every part of me. Planting a soft kiss between my shoulder blades before bringing his mouth back to the nape of my neck, he pushes my head to one side and traces his lips across my jaw. I know what he’s trying to do, seduction as a distraction.
I'm afraid I’m well-versed in all the Carrero tricks. I see through this.
“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to sit about a hotel waiting while you and she do whatever,” I sigh heavily. I want to stay in my little ignorant bubble, pretending Marissa and this baby don’t exist for a while longer. When the child is born, it’ll be a part of our lives for eternity; for now, I want the bliss of the two of us with no outside disruptions. Later, when it’s here, I can accept and get used to the new dynamics it will bring to our lives, but for now, I don’t have to like it.
“I told you, Emma, she doesn’t get to keep you out; you’ll be at the meeting too.” His voice is determined.
I spin on my heel so suddenly that he almost loses his balance.
“No!” I snap, “I don’t want to go! I don’t want to be part of that or see her and you in the same place.” Emotion fills me, and I try to turn away again, suddenly ashamed of my violent outburst. I don’t want him to see just how insecure and jealous I can be. I’m embarrassed by my uncontrolled reaction.
“Bambina? Emma? Hey!” He gently grabs my face and hauls me back, pulling me against him as fresh tears roll down my cheeks. “Okay … okay,” he soothes, “I’m sorry. I just figured keeping you involved was the best way. I don’t want to upset you, Bella.” He kisses me softly on the mouth, trying to soothe away my distress. He nibbles my lower lip, playfully trying to bring my mood back and quell my tears; it works a little, and I begin to relax again, sighing away the stupid emotions and wiping a hand across my already wet face. The gesture is pointless as every part of me is sodden; Jake runs a thumb across my cheek with the same poor success.
Crying in the shower makes so much sense.
“I’ll miss you while I’m gone,” he says, smiling softly and bringing our foreheads together, the water from the shower still trickling over his hair and causing rivulets to run down his cheek onto my breasts in an almost mesmerizing pattern.
“We haven’t slept apart since you told me you loved me,” I whisper shyly.
“It’s been intentional.” He gazes at my mouth, a finger coming up to trace my lips slowly. “Don’t clam up on me, dolcezza. We should be talking about this.” He sees my expression tighten and backs off, my external bristle and cold mask connecting. Our eyes meet, and I catch his indulgent frown. “Okay, but we will talk about this at some point. The baby coming is inevitable. I know your instinct is to shut down and blank it, but I’m not going to let you, not over this.” The stubborn set to his jaw and raised eyebrow tell me he means it.
I turn back around, so I don’t have to be interrogated by those eyes. Tilting my head back, the water begins to rinse the leftover suds away from my hair. I try my best to make it clear that I’m done talking about this. He takes a slow, steady breath, readying himself to say something else, and I cut in first.
“Just not today,” I mutter quietly, relaxing when his hands smooth over my hair to free it from the shampoo residue.
He kisses my head and carries on, washing my shoulders and back. Jake knows me, maybe not every inner thought, but he’s learned enough about me to see when the wall has gone back up. The old Jake would have gotten pissy and tried to push, but the new and improved Jake knows when to let the battle simmer. I know it won’t last; his impatient, overbearing self will win over, and he’ll push me again, and by then, I hope to God I can get my head around this enough to talk.
“Stay home with me today; let’s not go to work. If I have to leave you tonight, I want us to do something besides sitting in two rooms stressing over paperwork all day.” His hands slowly move down my arms, his body close enough to send tiny shivers but not touching me. His height towers over me, his wide frame making me feel small, dainty, and suddenly very vulnerable.
“You can’t just take days off to stay in bed with your girlfriend,” I say, turning and wrapping myself in him, pushing away the sudden, fragile emotional vibe I’m feeling. “Since I came back, workaholic Carrero seems to have run away.” He kneads my shoulders, so I tilt my head to the side, closing my eyes and enjoying how it feels.
“Well, if we’d stayed on the boat, we wouldn’t even be back by now, so I think I’m entitled to take a day off. Besides, I was focused on my job because I had nothing else worthy of attention. I now have you.” He tucks me back under his chin so he can wrap his arms around me tightly, his hands wandering down my breasts teasingly.
“You had me before.” I push back against him playfully, my butt molding into his groin.
“Hence why I made you work every waking hour and then some. Had to find ways to be around your sexy little self almost constantly.” His husky voice is right next to my ear, sending tingles through me. “It’s easy to be a workaholic when your PA is all you can focus on night and day, and she’s most definitely a slave driver.” His lips come to my throat as he traces my jaw from behind, slowly, achingly good. Jake has moves. I’ll give him that. He knows how to seduce.
“So, I must be slacking then if now you’re so lax about work that you’re pulling constant sickies.” I shove him off, giggling, batting his hands as they try to grope at me. Wrapping his arms around me, he lifts me off my feet and squeezes me tightly, knocking the wind out of my sails.
With his mouth at my ear, he whispers, “Nope, you just got easy and let me do things I’d only fantasized about.” He drops me on my feet, turning me to him before bending down and scooping me up in a swift move so I’m straddling him, my arms coming around his neck and my legs gripping his waist, back in the same position as when he made love to me in here earlier. He kisses me on the mouth as his elbow pushes the lever on the wall to cut the water off. He carries me out of the cubicle, lifting towels from the heated rail with one hand. Sliding me to my feet again, he wraps a towel around me like you would a child. I pull it in, the warmth enveloping me as I watch him wrap one around his waist. He lifts another to dry his upper torso and then his hair, stopping to come and rub my hair a little brusquely.
“You’re so romantic,” I giggle, enjoying his lazy smile and the glint in his green eyes; he’s amused, a good turn in our conversation, away from her.
“Soooo?” He pulls me close using the towel around my neck so we’re nose to nose. “Stay home or go to work?”
I hesitate. It feels so wrong to choose not to go to work. It goes against all of PA Emma’s ethics and principles; that version of me lives for her job. Girlfriend Emma is already thinking about getting back in bed and curling up in those tanned, tattooed arms against his wide, muscular chest. I sigh with the effort of the decision.
“Times up!” He grins, bending down to scoop me up again and marching me back to the bedroom, where he throws me unceremoniously down on the bed so that I bounce and lose my grip on the towel. I squeal as he dives on top of me, yanking the towels away and pinning my arms up beside my head, his mouth tilting in to devour my neck. I try to fight him off, but he’s relentless, pinning me down with his arms and legs until I can’t move, nibbling, biting, and tickling me. I can’t help laughing like a child.
I’m finally so exhausted from giggling and fighting that I stop trying. He leans over me, looking utterly devastating, his hair ruffled and messy, his elated face more shadowy due to not shaving, muscles taut and straining because of the way he’s holding himself up. He’s carved perfection of ripples and lines that puts most magazine models to shame, and I can’t believe it’s all mine. I almost self-combust from longing, my body reacting instantly. My lips part, my eyes get heavy as we gaze at one another, and our expressions turn hot and serious immediately.
He leans down, planting a quick kiss on my lips, then slides down the bed so his mouth trails down my abdomen. I giggle at the feather-light touch tickling me. His hands come to my thighs, sliding down slowly as he pulls my legs up to either side, pushing my knees outwards, so I’m completely splayed out in front of him. I gasp in surprise, feeling a little vulnerable in this position, and catch his wolfish grin and naughty glint as I gaze down at him. He looks unbelievably young like this.
He bites his bottom lip and quirks his eyebrows before yanking me down the bed a bit further, making me yelp in surprise, bringing my pelvis underneath his face, my arms still stretched above my head.
He’s in dominant mode again, his most comfortable persona when it comes to sex. I’ve never had to initiate much sex-related fun with him; he’s always in control and ready to possess me. It makes him exciting and primal. It also removes my insecurities about being too inexperienced with someone like him, not knowing how to behave or what to do to satisfy him. It’s never an issue as he always takes control of me effortlessly, guiding me, never making me feel like I have no clue what to do. It’s because I trust him.
He dips his head, so I see only dark hair and strong shoulders from my viewpoint, my body arching as his mouth connects with my femininity.
* * *
Panting, I finally still, my legs flopping down as I’ve zero ability to hold them up any longer, my body sated and tired. He moves up and over me and gives me a slow, sexy kiss on my mouth, his tongue gently caressing mine with the taste of my completion, a soft, erotic molding of mouths with gentle and toe-curling kissing. He pulls back with a satisfied look in his eye and the hint of a smile, leaning over me like a proud predator surveying its dead prey. I would let him dive in and devour me again to feel this way every second. He bends as though to kiss me but pauses at a knock on the door, his face instantly changing to irritation with a furrowed brow.
“What is it?” he barks at the door. I stifle a giggle at his annoyance; it’s a fate worse than death to interrupt Jake mid-sex. He smiles at me, shaking his head, and jumps up to grab some sweatpants and throw me a towel. I scurry to wrap myself up tightly before disappearing to the walk-in closet, away from the view of the door.
He pulls the pants on and opens the door, keeping it closed enough to conceal the bedroom and me in stages of undress. He talks to whoever is on the outside, but I can only hear mumbles. I wait with my towel around me, unsure if I should dress or if he’ll return to what we were doing. My body feels like liquid; I’m sure if I look in the mirror, I’ll be glowing and flushed and showing signs of having been ravaged. I’m breathless as hell and overheated.
He laughs, and it catches my attention. I love his laugh; it’s deep, carefree, and male, yet there’s a hint of boyishness to his normally husky tone when he laughs. I could close my eyes and listen to it forever.
He shuts the door and turns around to see where I’ve gone, his gaze returning to lust when he catches me still draped in my skimpy covering. I’m surveying my clothes in the closet, deciding whether to get dressed or return to bed. With a hint of disappointment on his face, he inhales deeply as though trying to calm his inner libido.
“We’ll need to continue this later; I forgot Daniel was here,” he says with a grin, and I flush with embarrassment.
Oh, my God! How loud was I? Did he hear that?
I’m beyond mortified.
“He’s coming to LA with me, Bella, since you won’t.” He throws me a wary look, but I only nod, not wanting to restart that conversation. I don’t like Daniel much right now; I don’t like his influence over Jake, well, the effect he had in the past, before us, and I don’t like the fact he’s just royally hurt my friend. We still have to talk about that.
I need to show Jake that I’m capable of trusting him. Until now, it’s been easy; we’ve been together every second, and there hasn’t been a need to test the limits of my trust. Going to LA with Daniel will be a test, and it terrifies me. I don’t want my inner doubts and anxieties to affect my relationship with him, with my mind acting as my own worst enemy and obsessing over the man-whore he used to be, especially when he’s going to see her.
“When will you get back?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation to neutral territory to avoid any subject that may let jealous Emma rear her head and show her full ugliness.
“We’ll leave from here at 2.00 p.m. and take off around four today; it’s about a six-hour flight, so if I leave LA same time tomorrow, I should get home around 2.00 a.m.” He walks over to me and pulls out a red dress from my wardrobe, the one he chose for me to wear the first time we ever went to his father’s yacht as friends. “Here, I like this on you.” He hands it to me and kisses me on the cheek with a look that says ‘please.’ He knows better than to make demands on my choices, but I don’t mind a gentle nudge if it makes him happy. It’s a knee-length summer dress with a floaty overskirt that he chose for me long ago when I was just his PA; it’s a bit formal for lounging around the apartment, though, and I glance at him quizzically.
“We’re all going out for breakfast,” he answers. “Seems this apartment echoes a little too much, Amore Mio, and Daniel is threatening to come in and hose us down if we keep at it. What can I say? He’s a little jealous that you have all of this.” He gestures down his naked torso with a wink, and I roll my eyes in response. He bends down and grabs the silver sandal wedges I wore with this dress on the yacht; I’m awed at his memory and smile as he hands them to me. The fact he remembered makes me all warm and gooey inside.
He really was enamored back then to remember every detail of my outfit.
I reach in and pull out a soft gray cardigan; it’s short, fitted, and feels like cashmere. It’ll make the outfit a bit less formal and ward against the slight chill in the air. Like the dress, it’s another Donna Moore purchase on Jake’s expense account; she’s his personal shopper for everything Emma-related, it seems.
He turns to the other side of the closet and yanks out his trademark black shirt and jeans, a leather jacket I haven’t seen before with racing badges on one sleeve, and a pair of black laced boots. I love his sexy casual Carrero look more than I like him in suits; it goes better with his youthful, bad-boy image and makes him less intimidating and more approachable. He walks off with his clothes into the bathroom, leaving the door open, and I hear the buzz of his shaver turning on. He never fully shaves, just keeps his stubble trimmed for that sexy, designer look. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without a five o’clock shadow since I met him. Margo, my old mentor and now his PA once more, told me that he feels like he looks like a kid when he shaves it all off and that a clean-shaven, baby-faced look is just so not him anyway. It also doesn’t last as his dark hair and Italian roots mean it grows fast through the day and never fully looks gone, even if he had a wet shave.
I dress quickly and brush out my damp hair, blowdrying it fast. The one good thing about my shorter wavy hair is it requires no maintenance. It styles itself. I throw on the most basic of make-up and a spritz of perfume and am ready by the time he walks out of the bathroom, fully clothed and smelling divine. He looks me up and down appreciatively.
“Beautiful, as always, Cara Mia.” He takes my hand and brings it to his mouth, gently kissing my knuckles in a very gentlemanly fashion. “Have you got everything?” he asks, his eyes focused on mine; today, they look a hazy, softer green with hints of silver flecks, relaxed and happy. I nod, lifting my handbag from the dresser with my free hand, and follow him out of the bedroom into the living room.
Daniel is lounging on a long, low couch using his phone. He has both feet on the leather, even though he’s wearing shoes. He’s dressed in nearly identical attire to Jake; either it’s this season’s hot look, or we have a little bit of imitation going on, and I can hazard a guess that it’s on Daniel’s part.
Throwing him a frown of disdain, Jake yanks at a leg and causes both feet to slide off. I try to shield my smirk; Jake has a lot of pride in his apartment, and unlike most rich New York penthousers, he chose and designed everything from paint colors to furniture. He also keeps the place neat, despite having a housekeeper I rarely see. It annoys him that when Daniel comes over, he treats it like a hotel by leaving stuff around and putting his shoes on the white Italian leather. Even as PA Emma, I dealt with Jake’s bitching fits whenever Daniel stayed with him. I think Daniel enjoys the reaction it causes; they’ve had many a heated argument, with Jake never shy to voice his complaints.
“Ready?” He flicks Daniel’s head as he passes him, and Hunter casually sits up and extends his middle finger at him. The nature of their friendship has always amused me. Jake, still holding my hand, pulls me with him as he leads the way to the door. I catch Daniel looking me up and down and recoil at that slide of eyes over my cleavage and down my legs. My repulsion of the male sex is still intact despite being able to let Jake devour me.
I can’t help it, even though I’ve let Jake do things to me and be with me in so many ways. I’ve learned that he’s the exception to my experiences. Men still make me cringe; I would still recoil at the touch of a strange man, and my skin crawls when they look me over. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.
We pass two black-clad security men in the outer hall and smile our goodbyes. I catch a glimpse of Nora entering another guestroom further down; she has a vacuum cleaner in hand, off to tend to this apartment and go about her day. I sometimes forget how big this place is.
Jake bristles as Daniel gets extremely close to my rear as we near the door, so close he’s almost spooning me from behind. With his phone in hand, he’s focused on the screen and walking faster than I am, so he isn’t paying attention to my proximity. I sense his body heat so close to me and instantly feel uncomfortable.
“Hey, never heard of personal space?” Jake pushes him in the shoulder playfully, knocking him backward, and pulls me to his other side with a protective arm around my shoulders. He throws a glare at Daniel, less than amused.
“I’m sure if I were going to butt-hump your woman, I wouldn’t let you watch,” Daniel says, throwing a cheeky smile and ducks as Jake swings a hand at his head.
“If you even try to get within a foot of her butt, you’ll suffer like no man ever has,” Jake threatens as he lets go of me and grabs Daniel in a headlock, the two carrying on like teens in a playground. Batting at each other, Jake squeezes a little harder, and Daniel starts to turn puce.
“For goodness sake, boys! Children!” I snap as they separate and stand apart, slyly jabbing at each other and pulling stupid faces, acting as though they just got busted by their mommy.
“Asshole,” Jake mutters at him under his breath as he leans toward me and gives me a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“Dickhead.” Daniel prods Jake in the back and swans past us to lead the way out of the apartment.
They exchange haughty glares, but I know it’s only in jest.
I hope it’s only in jest, anyway.
I get the distinct impression that Jake would never leave me alone with his so-called best friend; there seems to be a distinct lack of trust, and I hope it’s with Daniel and not me. I cast my mind back, trying to decipher if Jake had ever given me a hint that he didn’t trust Daniel, and I falter.
His childhood best friend and ex-girlfriend Marissa betrayed him, so I guess not trusting friends and lovers is ingrained. I know it wasn’t Daniel who betrayed him, as Jake told me he no longer has ties to the man in question, but I guess Jake has deep insecurities, without knowing it, that he can never really trust best friends. I hope he realizes that not all women are like her. I’ve seen hints of jealous Jake, but nothing too concerning, nothing that makes me think he wouldn’t trust me. And I will never betray him.