CHLOE AND JACKSON returned to the party, and Chloe felt like everyone there knew the two had just had the most incredible sex. She almost thought they should be able to sense it somehow, maybe even smell it on her, as she mingled in the crowd. She felt dirty, but in the best possible way. He put a cocktail in her hand and she sipped at it, feeling the cool orange sweetness of the old-fashioned slide down her throat. She felt jittery, unnerved. She couldn’t believe she’d just had sex in public, but that she’d also done so without a condom, or even having the talk about whether they were exclusive or not. She almost cursed herself. She’d promised not to get naked, and yet...that’s exactly what she’d just done. The man was like walking heroin, though. How could she resist him? Gorgeous, strong and endowed. Oh so endowed.
She glanced at him at her elbow, easily making small talk with a few of his agents, and wondered if he thought she was that kind of girl. Honestly, she was never so careless. She’d always used condoms, always did it with the shades (mostly) down, but something about Jackson just invited her to be...naughty. She found she liked it. The thrill of it all, the risk. She felt daring and bold, like the bad girl she maybe always secretly hoped to be.
It was worse than she had feared when she told Ryan. Hadn’t she said this would happen? That she would get naked? God, she didn’t even wait until they’d gotten home from the party. Inwardly, she laughed at that. Of course, it’s not like she’d ever really been into vanilla sex, but she’d never pushed the boundaries like this, either. Chloe wondered briefly what Kevin would think of her now. If this bold, daring version of Chloe had been in his bed, maybe he never would’ve accidentally called her by a different name.
Was that why she was so determined to take such risks? Was she proving something to Kevin? To herself? Or was it the allure of Jackson’s desire for her? She’d never felt so wanted, so desired by a man before. The feeling made all her nerve endings come alive.
Maybe her attraction to him was so strong, she’d do anything he asked. Strip naked right here in the middle of this cocktail party and fuck him while everybody watched. The idea sent a chill down her spine, and she felt a warmth pool between her legs. She’d just come with Jackson inside her and now here she was imagining sex with him again?
She took another slug of her drink. No, she would have this talk with him, he promised. He said after the party, and so she’d wait. Just because she’d had sex with him—again—that didn’t change her feelings. She wanted more from him, and if he couldn’t give it to her, she’d leave.
Leave the best sex you’ve ever had?
Chloe had to shore up her resolve. She had to walk away if there was no future with Jackson.
Jackson made a joke and the circle around them laughed. Chloe only half remembered their names, and it was probably because with Jackson at her elbow, all she could think of was him: the feel of his bare skin against hers just seconds ago; him, all of him, inside her. Was there such a thing as being addicted to a man? Because she might need rehab. Soon.
She mentally shook herself. At this rate, she was going to get naked—again—before they got home. She tried to focus on Jackson, on the conversation at hand. He was so good to his employees and seemed to truly care about them. She liked that he wasn’t a standoffish billionaire boss. Everyone felt like they could approach him and did. She got more than a few curious stares, and she realized that Hailey had been right: Jackson didn’t bring around many women to work functions. She made a mental note to ask him why he’d made an exception.
Then again, after what they’d just done down the hall, maybe she had her answer.
“We don’t have to stay,” he said in her ear. “Do you want to go?”
The last race was about to begin, though the crowd had thinned out a bit.
“Let’s stay for the last race,” she said, nodding out to the track. “I haven’t even bet yet!”
“Then let’s do that.” Jackson grinned at her and led her to their own electronic teller near the corner and pulled out ten hundred-dollar bills.
“That’s too much!” she cried.
“Which horse do you like?” Jackson asked, making no room for argument. She looked at the various names: Jefferson’s Dog, Henry’s Folly, Neck and Neck, Recon Elite, Panda Art, Miya Sophia, Sarina Jon.
“I don’t know anything about horses,” she protested, not sure how this all worked.
“Just pick by the name. That’s what I’d do.” Jackson grinned.
“Okay...if you’re sure...” She studied the list of horses. “I’m going with Miya Sophia. That has a nice ring to it.”
“How about for second place and third place?”
“Sarina Jon, and...Panda Art. Why not?” Chloe giggled.
He punched a few options on the touch screen and the computer spit out betting tickets, which he took. “Okay, bets are laid. Now let’s go watch.” Jackson led her to an open spot near one of the windows, which also had a view of the television coverage. The horses neighed and shook their heads in the race stalls, as their jockeys climbed atop their backs and worked to settle the big beasts. Nearby, women and men crowded the glass, wearing suits and fine dresses and straw hats. Jackson gently clasped her hand as they watched the screens, as the jockeys settled in, readying for the starting gun. She loved the feel of his big, smooth palm pressed against hers, and standing so close to him, she got a whiff of his aftershave, something spicy and sweet all at once. Boy, he smelled good. She found herself leaning into his shoulder, inhaling deeply.
The pop of the starting gun grabbed her attention, and she watched the TV as the horses catapulted out of their pens. Far below them, she couldn’t see the actual horses. They were on the other side of the giant stadium, blocked by tents in the middle of the field. Their box had a straight view to the finish. She watched the television as the horses galloped down the dirt track, flinging up bits of mud as the small jockeys steered them around the first bend. Jackson let out a whoop as Miya Sophia burst ahead of the bunch, followed closely by Panda Art and Roblox Elite. Sarina Jon and Neck and Neck lagged in the thick of the pack.
“Go, Panda Art!” Chloe shouted, and had to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. Still, she squeezed Jackson’s hand as she watched Miya Sophia widen her lead, and Sarina Jon broke free of the crowd, inching closer to the front. Neck and Neck was neck and neck with Panda Art. “Come on!” Chloe shouted once more, but Neck and Neck looked like he was losing steam in the last stretch. The horses came thundering down the pass, and now Chloe could see them in real time down the stretch of track beneath their box. The jockeys urged the horses on, but in the end, Miya Sophia won, followed by Sarina Jon and...Neck and Neck. Panda Art couldn’t pull out the third-place finish after all.
But Jackson cheered and hugged Chloe. “Two out of three isn’t bad. We won a little money,” he said.
“Did you win?” Hailey asked them both.
“We won part of our bet,” he said. “You?”
“Nope. Lost another dollar!” Hailey said. “Oh, well. It’s just not my lucky day. I haven’t won any of these races.”
Jackson reached in his pocket and handed her a ticket. “We have more than one winning ticket on this race. Here, this is yours.” He handed it to her. Chloe wasn’t sure what it had won, but Hailey seemed to know since her eyes lit up.
“Sir! Are you sure...?”
“Positive. You take that one.”
She clutched the ticket and beamed. “Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you.”
“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said, and took Chloe gently by the crook of her elbow and led her out the door.
“What was that ticket worth?” she asked him.
“It was the marginal winner. So, two thousand dollars?”
Chloe felt her throat go dry. “That’s a marginal winner? What did we win, then?”
“Ten thousand dollars. Give or take. Those were long odds on Miya Sophia. And I happened to add in a ticket that included Neck and Neck in third, too. To hedge our bets. So we got a trifecta.”
Chloe felt her head spin. Ten thousand dollars? They’d just won...more than two months of her salary. He was so blasé about it, too, but then again, she realized he was flush with cash. He didn’t have to worry about which utility bill he’d pay first, not like her. She was suddenly aware of how very different their lifestyles truly were. He thought a five-hundred-dollar bet was nothing more than buying a single lotto ticket, and the prize winnings didn’t even faze him.
“Let’s go claim our prize,” he said as he led her into the now-open elevator.
Chloe looked at Jackson: the handsome, dirty-blond with the tattoos, the goatee and the straw fedora, and wondered if she’d ever get used to the easy way he treated money. Is this why women fell for him? Was it the endless supply of cash? The allure of being taken care of?
The elevator doors dinged open and Jackson went to the cashier, to claim their $10,000 prize. The man ducked into a locked back room, and then he emerged with two thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills tucked in a manila envelope. Jackson thanked him and handed the envelope to her.
“Oh, no. I can’t accept this!” She tried to give the money back.
“You picked the horses,” he pointed out.
“So? It was your money. I’m not taking this.” She stuffed the envelope back into the pocket of his suit jacket. She felt wrong taking the money, even as she knew it would mean unlimited air-conditioning for the summer and she’d completely pay off her Visa, maybe even pay her student loans ahead of time. But still. It was too much.
“You should take it,” Jackson said, holding out the envelope as they stood in the lobby of the racetrack.
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “I’m with you for the sex, not your money,” she joked.
Jackson threw back his head and laughed at that, and Chloe laughed, too.
“Fine,” he said, and tucked the cash back in his jacket pocket. “Then let’s get naked again if you’re just after me for my body.”
She looped her arm through his. “What are we waiting for?”
Back at his apartment, he led her into his dark foyer as he flipped on a light. She’d barely paid attention to the lower two levels the first time at his place, since she’d been in such a rush to get to his living room, the room with the windows that faced her apartment. As they passed the second floor, he flipped the switch and she now saw his workshop clearly. Almost the entire floor was dedicated to his woodworking hobby. He had pieces of unfinished wood, a saw on a table, and a dozen shelves filled with tools, screws, nails and everything he’d need to build and sculpt furniture. A set of half-finished bar stools sat stacked neatly in the corner.
“Are these all yours?” she asked, momentarily distracted by his work, amazed at how much of it there truly was.
“Yep,” he said, moving into the space. “It’s what I do when I can’t sleep—which is a lot, really.”
“You have trouble sleeping?” she asked him.
“Sometimes. During stressful times. Working with my hands feels more natural to me, really. More natural than real estate, if I’m honest. I like working with my hands. Like my dad. He liked working with his hands, too.”
He leaned against the wall of his workshop, focused on her.
She could feel his gaze on her, watching her every move. She loved it, him studying her. She felt powerful beneath his gaze, sexy. She moved slowly, deliberately, aware of the gentle sway of her short sundress, the way it tickled the back of her thigh.
Chloe let her fingers trail down a finished but unvarnished table. “This is beautiful. I can’t believe you made this.” She looked at an ornate dining room chair, which had just been varnished a deep stain, one of four that would eventually go around the table. She admired the workmanship on the arms of the chair, which curved inward. He had a modern yet classic sensibility when it came to woodworking. She admired his taste.
“Why don’t you try it out? You can sit on it. It’s dry.” He nodded toward the chair, and she sat down. “It’s comfortable,” she said, feeling the warm curves of the wood that seemed to be made to fit her body. She put her hands around the smooth edges of the arms of the chair. “And sturdy. You do nice work.”
“Do I?” he asked, his voice sinking a little bit lower as he crossed the room. “You look so damn sexy sitting in my chair. It makes me think I need to do some more work.”
“You promised me we’d talk.” She wasn’t going to let him get her naked again. Not without at least a serious conversation.
“Yes, I did.” He uncrossed his arms, his gaze never leaving her. She stood, uncertain. “I thought about what you said, about wanting more.”
She sucked in a breath.
“And?”
He crossed the room to her. “And...I want that, too.”
“You do?” Could this be true? She glanced up, confused, as he knelt down in front of her, his stark blue eyes never leaving hers. She could stare at them forever, she thought. Just like this. Then the man was on his knees in front of her, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Yes, I do. You intrigue me, Chloe Park. I want to see more of you, much more. I want more than friends and benefits.”
Slowly, he put his hands on her bare knees, and she could feel the weight and heat in his palms. Then, ever so slowly, he spread her knees apart. She sucked in a breath, amazed at how quickly they’d gone from conversation to this...yet, on the other hand, part of her had expected this. Had hoped for it. The electric current that flowed between them seemed ever present, always ready to ignite from the smallest spark.
He gazed at her, focused, as his hands moved up her skirt. He found the edges of her lacy underwear and slipped it down. She lifted her butt to help him get it off, feeling a delicious rush of the cool wood of the seat against her bare bottom. She felt frozen now, staring at this gorgeous man, sitting in the chair he made. He dipped his head and kissed her inner knee, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved slowly, ever slowly upward to her center, waxed nearly bare.
“I want you to know how special I think you are.”
God, this was what she wanted. To be chosen, and yet... She wondered, what did he mean she was special? Did this mean she would be dating him exclusively?
“Of all the women I know, you’re my favorite.”
She felt thrilled at beating out the competition, and yet at the same time, distantly worried there still was competition. If she were the favorite in the harem, didn’t that mean there was still a harem?
He moved upward, and she felt her body anticipate his touch, his warm, insistent lips on her delicate skin, and the questions evaporated from her mind.
He might be using sex to distract her. Might for sure be doing that. Jackson parted her inner folds with his fingers and then, gently, ever so gently, teased her with his tongue, a gentle, determined lick.
“You taste...so good,” he murmured into her thigh, as his tongue sent electric bolts of desire up her spine. He lapped at her with an enthusiasm she’d never had before, and she felt her body arch to meet each swipe of his amazing tongue. Her eyes flickered closed against the rush of sensation. God, she was going to come. She was going to come...soon, if he kept that up.
She opened her eyes once more and found Jackson staring at her from between her legs, his eyes telling her how much he enjoyed driving her wild, how much he loved his tongue exploring her, worshipping her. Chloe couldn’t look away from his face. She sucked in a breath as she watched his tongue come for her again and again, tasting her, so intimate, so...amazing. He reached up with one hand and cupped her breast through her dress, making her moan even louder.
He was so good, so very good at this. He was driving her insane with want. His words had already driven her mad, and now this...it was so good.
He hummed into her innermost depths. A hum that sent all the nerve endings in her body tingling, near exploding with pure pleasure. He picked up his pace, and she felt her pulse pound between her legs, as he nipped at skin, driving her to greater heights. She wrapped her hands in his hair just to hang on to something. Her body seemed as if it might fly off the chair, off the very ground. Suddenly, every muscle in her body stiffened, and she hit the peak of passion. Just then as he plunged his tongue into her, she came, a river of pleasure so forceful she cried out, loud, a shout of pure satisfaction, as wave after wave of an amazing climax shuddered through her, shaking her shoulders, raking her entire body.
He lifted his head, a big, accomplished grin on his face.
“Do you feel special now?” he asked her, humor dancing in his eyes.
“Uh-huh,” she managed, completely spent, her legs feeling like jelly. Then he raised her up, lifting her, and moved her to his unfinished table. She went without protest, watching, amazed, as he unzipped his pants. He was ready for her, more than ready, as if making her come aroused him.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said, teasing her swollen folds with his oversize tip. How could she take him now, when she was so completely spent? Yet part of her wanted to, wanted to see how his massive width would feel inside her swollen, newly climaxed self. If anyone could make her come again and again, it was Jackson. Yes, she thought. In me. Again. And again. She spread her legs for him wider on the table as he teased her with his tip, his smooth knob spreading the wetness of her come across its tip. Yes. More. She wanted more. And he did, too.
Then she heard a noise. A footstep on the stair?
“Can I join in?” The strange voice startled them both and Chloe whirled in time to see a woman coming down the stairs, clad only in a trench coat she left gaping open to reveal her breasts and bare stomach.
“Laurie!” cried Jackson. “What the hell are you doing here?”