Chapter 28
Ruby
Iclose the chat and press my forehead to the vending machine.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper.
Except…
I want to.
That’s the part I’m scared of.
JAXON
I should feel satisfied.
I got what I wanted, a taste of her. A real one. Honest. Desperate Shaking.
She kissed me back with more hunger than she intended.
But instead of feeling satisfied…
I want more.
Much more.
My phone vibrates.
I glance at it.
A message from an investor? A reminder about tomorrow’s meeting?
No.
It’s her.
Ruby:
I don’t know what to do.
My throat tightens.
Sweet girl.
I text back:
Me:
You don’t have to do anything.
She replies instantly:
Ruby:
This is too much too fast.
Another message:
Ruby:
I’m scared of this.
I stand from my chair.
My pulse kicks.
I text:
Me:
Then let me go slow.
Another vibration.
Ruby:
You didn’t go slow today.
I smile.
Me:
Would you like me to apologize?
Ruby:
No.
There it is.
The truth under everything.
I write back:
Me:
Then I won’t.
I wait. Five seconds, then ten.
Her next message is small:
Ruby:
I can’t think around you.
My heart clenches.
I answer:
Jaxon:
I don’t want you to think.
I want you to feel.
RUBY
I sink into my chair.
My heart is a disaster. My body is a disaster. My life is a disaster.
But his messages…
God.
He wants me.
Not just physically.
He wants me.
And that terrifies me more than the kiss.
My phone buzzes one last time:
Jaxon:
After hours.
My office.
We’ll talk.
I choke on air.
After hours.
In his office.
Alone.
I whisper to myself:
“Oh god.”
And the worst part?
I already know I’m going.
I stare at the clock like it personally wronged me.
5:41pm. I’m still at my desk. Everyone else has packed up, grabbed their bags, said goodnight, gone home to their normal, non-chaotic lives.
I should go home too.
I should.
Instead… I’m tracking the minute hand like a lunatic.
My heart has been pounding since lunch. My stomach hasn’t settled since 9am. My lips still feel warm.
“After hours. My office.”
I hate him.
I want him.
I’m terrified.
I’m thrilled.
And god help me…I’m going.
At 5:43pm, I stand up.
At 5:44pm, I sit back down.
At 5:45pm, I stand again.
By 5:46pm, I’m whispering to myself:
“Get it together.”
By 5:48pm, I’m in the lift.
By 5:50pm… I’m standing outside his office door.
The lights on the floor are dimmer. Softer. The company feels different at night, quieter, warmer, too intimate.
I lift my hand to knock.
It shakes.
I breathe out slowly and knock anyway.
Two seconds pass, then… “Come in.”
I open the door.
And everything inside me stutters.
He’s there. Not behind his desk Not in his chair.
Leaning against the front of it. Sleeves rolled. Tie loose. The top two buttons undone.
Watching me walk in like he’s been starving and I just walked in holding dessert.
The door clicks shut behind me.
Soft. Final. Private.
My breath catches.
He straightens.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
“Ruby,” he says. Quiet. Warm. Too much.
I swallow. “Hi.”
He steps toward me.
One slow step.
Then another.
My pulse picks up. My feet stay rooted.
He stops just close enough that I can feel the heat from his body.
“Are you nervous?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
My breath shudders.
“Why good?” I whisper.
He studies me, my lips my throat my shaky breath like he’s learning me by heart.
“Because it means you’re here for the right reason.”
I blink. “What reason is that?”
He steps closer.
Just enough to melt my spine.
“You want me.”
My heart slams so loud I’m sure he hears it.
I whisper, “That doesn’t mean we should.”
His eyes darken.
“Maybe not,” he murmurs. “But it means we will.”
Oh god.
I sway toward him before I can stop myself.
His hand lifts, slow careful, fingertips brushing my waist, sending heat spiraling through every nerve.
“Jaxon…” My voice barely exists.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know how to do this.”
His thumb strokes a slow circle against my hip.
“I do.”
Then, he leans in.
Not kissing me, just close enough that his breath warms my cheek.
“Tell me to step back,” he whispers.
I can’t.
He sees that.
He knows that.
He lowers his voice:
“Then I’m going to touch you.”
My knees wobble.
JAXON
She’s trembling.
Not out of fear.
Out of anticipation. Out of want. Out of restraint.
Good.
That’s exactly where I need her.
I move my hand slowly up her waist. She exhales, a tiny, helpless sound that hits me straight in the chest.
Her body leans into mine without permission. Her fingertips graze my shirt. She steadies herself against me.
Beautiful.
“You came,” I murmur.
She swallows hard. “I shouldn’t have.”
“But you did.”
She nods once.
Small. Shy. Destroyed.
“Why?” I ask softly.
Her voice cracks. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Heat surges through me.
Control wavers. Just a little.
I step closer.
She has to tilt her chin up to keep looking at me.
Good. I like her looking at me.
“You’re shaking,” I whisper.
“I know.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
She hesitates.
Then, barely audible, “No.”
My restraint snaps in one clean line.
I slip an arm around her waist. Pull her against me. Her breath catches hard against my chest.
Her hands come up, tentative, touching my shirt my shoulders my neck like she’s afraid she’ll forget how I feel.
She won’t.
I lower my forehead to hers.
“Ruby,” I whisper, “I’m going to kiss you again.”
She whimpers.
“Yes. Please.”
My pulse kicks hard.
That’s all I need.
RUBY
He kisses me.
Not like this morning.
This is deeper. Hotter. More certain. More hungry.
His hand slides to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him, and I make a sound I didn’t mean to make.
He swallows it in the kiss.
I grip his shirt. He tilts my head. His mouth moves against mine like he’s claiming something he’s been waiting for.
I melt. Completely. Absolutely.
He walks me backward, slowly, until my hips hit his desk.
My breath stutters.
His fingers slide into my hair. His other hand rests on my waist. His kiss deepens into something that makes my entire body throb.
He pulls back just enough to speak, but not enough to let me go.
“This is the last warning,” he murmurs against my mouth. “If you stay, we’re not stopping at kissing.”
My pulse slams. Heat races low in my belly. My knees threaten to buckle again.
I whisper:
“I don’t want to stop.”
His breath catches. His grip tightens.
“Then stay,” he whispers, voice rough. “Stay with me.”
I nod.
Slowly. Shaking. Wanting.
“I’m staying.”
His eyes darken.
“Good.”
He lifts me onto the desk with one smooth movement, his hands strong his body between my knees his mouth claiming mine again,
And I know:
There’s no going back now.