JAMIE’S MOUTH takes mine hard, like he’s been wanting this for years. He grips the back of my hair and tilts my head back, dragging his tongue along mine, and my knees go weak. His movements are urgent, hungry, insistent, and demanding. His intoxicating, masculine scent is in my nose, and I can barely breathe. I don’t even want to breathe if this is the other option. My hands move up the firm planes of his broad chest, and he groans into my mouth.
Oh god. He licks into my mouth like he wants to fuck me. I’ve never been kissed like this.
“Fuck,” he mutters between kisses, and my whole body pulses with heat.
I’m wet. He’s made me wet from a kiss.
I’m not sure if my eyes are open or closed. I can’t feel anything except the needy pressure between my legs, Jamie’s demanding mouth, and the light pull of my hair in his fist. He grips my hair like he owns me. His other hand rests around the base of my neck, heavy and huge. He doesn’t apply pressure, but just the contact of his big hand holding me in such a vulnerable position, it makes me never want to move. I like this way too much.
His stubble brushes my mouth and I moan into him. Something about that noise sets him off, because he presses his entire body against me, pinning me to the wall.
His hips push into me, and I gasp against his lips.
He’s hard. The thick steel length presses into my stomach. Warm pressure twists between my legs, and I moan. Jamie’s kissing me, his
erection is huge, and I’ve definitely lost my mind.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Pippa,” he growls, pulling back to look at me with dark eyes. He’s breathing fast, glaring at me, towering over me. He releases my neck, and I almost whimper in protest, but he rests his forearm on the wall above my head, staring down at me with a glazed look that sets my underwear on fire.
Jamie Streicher is so fucking hot. “What’s happening?” I breathe.
He blinks and frowns, and then his gaze shutters. “Shit.” He straightens up, and I want to yell no! “I’m sorry.” He drags a palm down his face. “I lost my head. I wasn’t thinking.”
There are a hundred things I want to say. I liked it and do it again come to mind.
He takes a step back. Without his body heat, I’m cold. The hunger and urgency are gone from his expression, leaving only his typical cranky surliness. But unlike normal, I don’t feel like teasing him about it.
I just feel hurt. An ugly realization hits me—this is exactly how I felt at the airport.
What am I doing? He’s hot, protective, and secretly sweet. Kissing him was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. He’s nice to his mom, for god’s sake. He’s the whole package. If I let him, he will devastate me. What Zach did will be a tiny scratch compared to what Jamie could do.
It’s like I’ve thrown a bucket of ice water on my thoughts, and my head clears.
Jamie’s mouth is a hard line as he shoves his hand through his hair. “I only do casual stuff, and with us working together—”
“I know.” I play with the ends of my hair as I look away, getting my breathing under control. “This isn’t a good idea.”
I meet his gaze, and he studies me, looking torn. “You’re my assistant,” he says.
A weight lands in my stomach, and I’m angry with myself, because he’s right. Everything about this is a terrible idea. I step toward the ladies’ room and force a smile, like what just happened was nothing.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell him, pushing the door open before he can answer.
I take a long moment to wash my hands, wetting a paper towel with cold water and pressing it to the back of my neck. My skin is still hot from Jamie practically fucking my mouth with his tongue.
Against my will, I picture Jamie fucking my mouth with that steel rod that pressed into me. My eyes close and I groan.
This isn’t a good idea, I told him. I can’t be picturing it, then.
