4. Jessica
Chapter four
Jessica
I t’s been a couple of days since the meeting with Kip, and things have been busy. I barely have unpacked and settled into the beautiful house—the one I’m not living alone in. Sharing a house with Eric Warren isn’t exactly the peaceful experience I imagined when Kathy first offered me the place. I expected a calm, quiet environment where I could focus on my work. Instead, I’m constantly on edge, waiting for the next encounter.
I expected him to carry his bad attitude from the meeting home with him, but he hasn’t brought it up. And I’ve been avoiding it—and him. Still, I’ve felt his eyes on me. If it wasn’t so unlikely that a guy like him with access to women all over the world at the snap of his fingers would be interested in me, I’d take his checking me out as a sign he’s into me. But he’s not… is he?
This morning is still early, and the house is quiet. Eric is on my mind and my body feels wound up tight. I’d love a release… his tongue on my slick folds, his hands gripping my hips.
Just a quick release.
I shift in my bed, slipping my hand down into my PJ pants. Oh, God, it feels good. Images of Eric’s impossibly handsome face flood my mind. I can see him, kissing me, kissing my neck and then… my breasts, his lips sucking on my nipple before moving to the other one. I gasp in bed, my finger moving faster on my own pussy.
I want him to kiss his way down my stomach all the way to where my hand is. I need to feel him put his lips on my core, teasing my clit until I come undone in a release of pleasure.
“Yes,” I whisper, pleasure building in me. I need this. His face is so vivid in my mind that I come fast and hard, breathless and wanting him.
Twenty minutes later, with my stony wall back in place, I edge my way into the kitchen, hoping to grab a cup of coffee before Eric wakes up. Within seconds, the smell of the fresh brew I’m making is wafting through the air, and I feel a small sense of victory. I can make it out of here unnoticed. How could I face him now, after that fantasy?
I pull a mug from the cabinet, my back to the entry, when I hear footsteps behind me. Great.
“Hello Jessica,” Eric says, his voice deep and a little too close for comfort.
I feel a shiver of anticipation rush through me. Then I stiffen, embarrassed that I just orgasmed to thoughts of him making love to me.
I clear my throat. He’s been formal ever since the meeting. I can’t figure out why. His usual playful attitude, which he's known for, has drastically changed.
I turn around, keeping my expression neutral even as my heart pounds. “Morning to you.”
Eric’s standing there in a faded t-shirt and sweats, looking way too relaxed and way too sexy for someone who can set me off with just one smirk. His hair is a mess, his eyes half-lidded from sleep, and I hate how effortlessly attractive he is. It’s infuriating. It’s endearing. It’s… everything.
I reach for the coffeepot, but my hand bumps into his. His skin is warm. The mug I’m holding tilts, sending a splash of coffee over the rim and onto the counter.
“Crap,” I mutter, pulling my hand back and grabbing a napkin.
Eric chuckles softly, stepping closer to help, and before I know it, we’re both reaching for the same spot on the counter. His arm brushes against mine, and I feel goosebumps rush over my skin. His warmth is distracting, and the scent of his aftershave—something woodsy and clean—hits me.
“You’ve got it,” he says, his voice lower, and when I glance up, he’s looking at me, really looking at me, with those sexy hazel eyes. I can see it—he’s into me.
My breath catches. There’s an unmistakable attraction hanging in the air between us. I try to fight it because it is incredibly unwise to lean into it, but it doesn’t budge. I look at his lips. Big mistake.
I long to lean in and just kiss him. To add that physical realness to my next fantasy of him. Once, only. Just to taste him. I feel my entire body respond to his nearness. It’s intoxicating… and off limits. He’s on the team my firm represents. I cannot allow this attraction to leave my mind and become real.
I straighten up, trying to break the moment, but when I step back, my foot catches on the leg of a barstool, and I stumble right into him. My God—he is strong. I feel the ridges of his muscles as he catches me. It feels so good. I let myself stay there just to get it out of my system; I tell myself. I just need to feel the nearness of him for a moment, then I’ll be satiated and can stop feeling aroused by him.
“Whoa,” Eric murmurs, his hands coming up to hold me.
I look up—another mistake, because for the briefest moment, everything seems to stop. His hands are warm on my waist, and his gaze dips to my lips. I swallow hard, my heart like hummingbird wings in my chest. This is not happening.
But it is. And then, before I can think or stop myself, we kiss.
It’s soft at first, almost tentative, like we’re both testing the waters. Then, just as quickly as it started, it deepens, and for a moment, I forget where we are. How is this possible—it’s just a kiss, and yet I’m lost in it. His lips are warm, firm, and when he pulls me just a little closer, I don’t resist.
I feel his hands on my back, and one hand drops to grip my hip. I press my breasts against him just to feel the firmness of his body against mine. I have the wild urge to rip his shirt off. As if reading my mind, his fingers inch up under my shirt. I moan into the kiss. I can feel my own heart beating fast as I dare to slip my hand down the front of those joggers. I grasp his naked cock that nestles beneath the fabric, his size making my core tighten with excitement.
He is majestic. I stroke him once, and he grunts against my lips, nipping my lower lip.
“Careful what you start,” he murmurs.
I’m breathless, carefree and, for a moment, I let myself believe that I can do this. That we can do this. I feel his fingers brush across the softness of my breast under my shirt. Then he pinches my nipple. My lips curl into a smile against the kiss. His hips start to move, thrusting through the fist I have wrapped around his manhood.
The moment is perfect. I feel free. I feel like anything is possible…
What am I doing?
Just as quickly as my infatuation kicked in, reality rears its head and crashes back in.
I pull away, breathless and utterly horny for him. The bulge in his joggers entices me to finish what we started. Eric looks as if he’s ready to pull me in again, but I step back. I guess I’ll have to be the one to set boundaries here. Looking at him… I see how hard it’s going to be.
“Uh…” I am an expert at avoidance. It comes with the job—I find data to support my firm’s stance and then we avoid every other bit of data in our arguments that might not support our stance. If I can avoid things at work, I can avoid them here. “I need to get going. Thanks for cleaning up the spilled coffee, Eric.” There. I was smooth as silk. Not rattled at all.
He blinks, still looking like a man starved for my lips, my body, but then he nods. “No problem.”
I nod once like a military captain to a recruit, then I march out of the kitchen, heart racing. I don’t dare look back. I won’t admit to him that I want more.
I’m going to need to dig deep after that moment of weakness. What just happened? And why did I let it happen?
I spend the next five hours in my office in Denver, trying to shake off the weird energy lingering in my mind. A calendar notification brings me out of my daze.
“Shit—of all the days for that to happen…” Today is the day Eric is scheduled for his first community event. And I have to be there. I can’t think about the kiss. I won’t think about it.
By the time I arrive at the community event, I’ve convinced myself the little smooch from earlier meant nothing. Just an accident, a fluke. I won’t mention it and if he does, I’ll pretend like he’s nuts and ignore the comment.
I walk to the community center. It’s new and looks upscale. I smile at the feeling of goodwill around me. Kids are running around, and families are chatting excitedly as they wait for the official introduction of Eric “Gator” Warren to the community as the newest player for the Denver Avalanche. It’s the first big event to welcome him to the city, and it was my idea. I hope it goes well.
I’m supposed to be overseeing things, making sure Eric is engaging with the fans, the media, all that PR that Kip insisted on. I join Eric and Kip’s PA in the building, but he’s busy already meeting and greeting local officials and letting the PA lead him from one group of people to another.
This continues outside, too.
Good. So far, everything is going well. Except, I keep catching him glancing at me, like he’s trying to read me. Every time our eyes meet, my stomach flips a little, and it’s driving me insane.
I watch as he kneels down to sign a kid’s hockey jersey, his smile soft and genuine. The kid’s face lights up, and something about the way Eric interacts with him catches me off guard. He’s not putting on a show. He’s just… being kind . I’d pegged him as cocky, too full of himself to care about anyone else, but seeing him like this, I realize there’s more to him than I thought.
He stands up, ruffling the kid’s hair, and I have to remind myself to breathe. This isn’t the Eric I studied and gathered data on for my job. This guy in front of me is someone else entirely.
He walks over toward me, and I meet him head on. I’m in work mode, so there’s no place to be a shy wallflower now.
“Hey Eric,” I say crisply.
“Everything going the way you wanted?” Eric’s voice melts me, and he is standing just a little too close for comfort. His eyes are curious, amused.
“Yeah,” I say quickly, forcing a smile. “Good job with the kids. They love you.” I look away, cursing at my use of the word “love.” I say too brightly, “Everything’s going smoothly so far.”
He raises his eyebrows. “It sure is. You can probably bounce out of here, if you want. Kip’s PA has it all under control.”
I bristle at that insinuation that I’m not needed at my own event. “I’m fine staying. Just need to keep an eye on you.”
His grin widens. “Keep an eye on me, huh? That sounds… nice.” His eyes twinkle at me.
I flush, realizing how that sounded. “Not like that. I’m just… you know. Making sure you’re doing your job.”
“Right,” he says, clearly enjoying this too much. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
He steps a little closer, his voice lowering, his lips intentionally near mine as he whispers, “Call me crazy, but it seems like you’ve been acting weird ever since our little moment this morning, you know that?”
I feign innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Eric smirks. “Sure you don’t.”
I swallow, trying to ignore the way my heart is racing. “Look, we’re here to work, not indulge in your delusions, Eric. This event is important for your public image, and I’m not going to let you screw it up by getting distracted.” I say all this with a pageant-worthy smile on my face.
He looks at me for a long moment, his expression challenging, but then he surprises me. He doesn’t argue or tease. Instead, he just nods. “Okay. You’re right. There are lots of kids here who want to meet me. Let’s focus on the event.”
I try to hide my shock behind the action. I gesture to the PA who is waving at him to come join her. We spend the next hour moving from one group of people to the next, with Eric signing autographs, taking pictures, and talking to fans. But every time he interacts with someone, I can’t help but notice how genuine he seems. He’s not just playing a part, I’d swear on my life that he’s really trying.
Eventually, we end up at the community snack table. I see a photographer approaching and immediately think about how messy the table is. I quickly try to organize the refreshments while Eric grabs a bottle of water. He leans back against the table, watching me as I fuss over some spilled cups.
“You’re kind of a control freak, aren’t you?” he says, amusement in his voice.
I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’m organized. There’s a difference.” I nod to the photographer who has been waylaid by the PA. Good. “I wanted things to look good for the cameras, that’s all.”
He laughs softly. “Whatever you say, sunshine.”
I freeze. Sunshine? We’re doing nicknames now? That can’t be good. “What did you just call me?”
Eric grins. “Sunshine. It fits, don’t you think?”
“Why? Because I’m always so chipper?” I shock myself by almost winking at him. He is rubbing off on me.
“No,” he says, his tone softening slightly. “Because you brighten things up. Even when you don’t realize it.”
I blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, I don’t know what to say. But then, I remember who I’m talking to, and I force myself to stay on task.
“Well,” I say, straightening my posture. “I’m just trying to make sure any photos with you in them from here on out don’t turn into a disaster.”
Eric watches me for a beat, then shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re not what you pretend to be, sunshine.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, feeling flattered that he thinks he knows me, that he’s trying to know me.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve got this whole tough, professional thing going on, but underneath it, you’re just as soft as the rest of us. In a good way.”
I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, so I settle for giving him a professional stare, the kind that silences people at work. “I wouldn’t run around putting labels on people, Eric.”
“Gator,” he says quickly. “That’s my nickname. Now we both have one.”
With that, he winks and saunters off.
I focus on the scattered napkins, not on his tight rear end as he walks off, trying to distance myself from whatever obvious attraction is happening between us. I’m not here to fall for a hockey player. I’m here to do my job and make sure Eric Warren doesn’t cause any more headaches for his team.
But I can’t stop thinking about that fiery kiss in the kitchen.
I need to get a handle on this. Fast.