Chapter 7 Jonathan
JONATHAN
I make it home, strip down, and throw myself into bed like a man about to wrestle sleep into submission. Spoiler: sleep wins. Or rather, it doesn’t show up at all.
“Keep things professional.”
The words loop in my skull like a broken record. Shouldn’t gut me. Shouldn’t even sting. I’ve closed deals that would bankrupt kingdoms, but one woman looks me in the eye and tells me to behave, and I’m flat on my back like some kid with his first heartbreak. Pathetic.
I stare at the ceiling fan until I swear it’s mocking me. Every time I blink, it’s her face. The way her lips parted, the way her eyes slid away from mine like she couldn’t bear to hold the line she was drawing.
Dry laugh. “Professional,” I mutter to the empty room. “Yeah, that’ll be easy. Right after I take up knitting and join a monastery.”
Eventually, exhaustion drags me under. And that’s when she comes back—except in my dream she’s not careful, not cautious. She’s straddling me in that pencil skirt, blouse unbuttoned enough to spill my fantasies into the open.
Her mouth is on mine, hungry, tongue wet and demanding. Her breasts press against my chest, her nipples hard under the thin fabric. My hands fist in her hair, yanking her head back so I can take her throat into my mouth, biting, sucking, leaving marks that scream mine.
She grinds against me, panties soaked, dragging her heat over my cock until I’m swearing into her mouth. “You like being my little distraction, don’t you, Lizzy?”
“Yes,” she moans, breathless, clawing at my chest. “God, yes.”
I rip her panties aside and slam into her, the dream version of her arching and crying out, clenching around me like she was made for it. I pound into her until the headboard smashes the wall, until her breasts bounce in my palms, until the sound of her moans turn raw and broken.
She shatters first, trembling, crying my name. I don’t stop until I’m spilling into her, grinding her down into the mattress, claiming her so thoroughly the sheets smell like sex and sin.
When I jolt awake, my cock is hard, sweat dampens my chest, and the sheets are tangled around my legs. Professional, my ass.
By the time I finally drag myself out the door, the world is buried in fresh snow. I take the long way across the lot, boot heels scuffing lazy patterns into the drifts like a sulking schoolboy. Pathetic, maybe, but it buys me a few more seconds before I have to face her.
Professional. Fine. I can do professional. I’ve built an empire on restraint. But restraint’s a hell of a lot harder when the woman testing it sits right outside my damn office door.
The glass doors groan open, and the heater blasts my face with dry warmth. Sherry’s behind the front desk now, standing in for Lizzy. She beams at me like she’s been waiting.
“Good morning, Mr. Clark. Cold one today. I brewed fresh coffee for you.”
I give her the kind of polite smile I’ve perfected over the years, pour myself a cup of black, and hope the burn will wake me out of this haze.
I don’t even get a full swallow before Chase barrels down the hall. “Jon—conference room. We’ve got reps already here. They want a client meeting.”
“What?” The word is sharper than I intend. “How the hell do they even know yet? I haven’t sent the emails.”
Chase shrugs, grin wide. “Don’t ask me, but hey—early’s good. We’re ahead of schedule for once.”
I sigh, clutch the coffee tighter, and follow him down the hall. Then I see her.
Lizzy. Bent over her desk, focused, pen flying across the page. She glances up, catches my eye, and smiles—calm, collected, as if last night never happened.
And just like that, I know. She sent the damn emails. She set this in motion.
I should be annoyed. I should call her in, remind her who makes the calls here. Instead, I find myself biting back a smile. Chase is right—she’s made us look good. Efficient. Ahead of the game.
But it’s the way she looked at me, all bright-eyed, like we didn’t nearly tear each other apart in my office last night—that’s what sticks.
She’s moved on already, at least on the surface. Me? I can’t stop replaying the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasp.
Professional? Maybe for her. For me, it feels impossible.
Chase pushes the conference room door open, and two men spring to their feet like schoolboys caught whispering. Their water glasses sweat rings onto the polished table as they straighten their ties.
I shrug out of my coat, unhurried, and hang it on the rack. No wasted movements. Then I claim the head of the table, coffee in hand, and let the silence stretch just long enough to remind them whose room this is.
“Gentlemen,” I say finally, smooth and steady. My voice carries without effort. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“Not at all,” one says quickly, clearing his throat.
“Bill Myers, here for Goldman’s Farm, Rochester.
We… we got your email last night. Mr. Goldman couldn’t make it himself, but he wanted me to tell you he’s grateful.
His family’s farm has been his life. Supplying grocers across the state, building something that mattered.
He thought it was over. Until your interest came through. ”
There’s a raw edge in his voice. Sincerity. Hope. I don’t hear that often anymore. Deals these days are all numbers and greed, no heart.
I lean forward, fingers steepled on the table, pinning him with a look that makes him shift in his seat.
“Good. I want people at this table who give a damn. Goldman’s stood out because it isn’t just profitable, it’s respected.
Respected businesses make me money longer than desperate ones. That’s why you’re here.”
Across from me, Chase flicks his gaze my way, one brow ticking up. He knows I don’t usually lay it on like this. I let him wonder if it’s the season softening me, or if it’s Lizzy’s influence bleeding through.
The next hour is a tug of war of questions, figures, the kind of back-and-forth I thrive on. Normally, I have to corner men like this into giving me something real. Today, they can’t stop pitching, can’t stop selling me on their worth.
And every time I glance at the file in front of me, I picture Lizzy’s hand sending the email that got them here. Her spark ignited this meeting before I ever walked in.
“That’s great,” Bill cheers. “Well, I don’t mean to rush things, but it’s a six-hour drive. If you leave today, he’d be willing to meet with you personally tomorrow.”
Normally, I’d discuss things with Chase first to iron out all the plans, but I’m caught up in the moment. “Of course. I can leave as soon as a few hours.”
To maintain my quota, I need to set things up with everyone as soon as possible. I take pride in my work and like to maintain or beat the listings from the previous year. It’s what makes me one of the best in the city.
Not to mention, I’ll need help. Someone who has been in this right along with me.
Lizzy would be the perfect person to bring along. She knows everything I do, if not more, and she’s been working so hard. Maybe a vacation is what we both need, even if we have to keep things professional.
Just getting to talk to her would be a bonus. It’s something very new for me, liking to listen to someone talk about nothing and everything all at once, but I’m a changed man, it seems.
“Great to hear,” Bill says and stands to shake my hand. “I’ll call him right away and get everything set up for tomorrow. I’ll email you the details.”
As they leave the room, Chase grabs my arm as I sit back down. “Dude. That was out of left field. Are you even ready?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but Lizzy is ready. She’s been working her ass off to get things done. I think she’s the one who sent out the emails. Either way, I’m going to need her help if I’m going to pull this out of my ass.”
Chase opens his mouth to speak, but instead, I stand and walk over to the doors, leaning my head out and calling for Lizzy.
“Lizzy, can I see you in here for a moment?” She turns quickly in her spinning office chair and gives me a surprised look before nodding. She straightens her skirt as she stands and rushes over to me.
On entering, she slips into the chair beside me, offering Chase a quick smile, but I catch the way her fingers knot together in her lap. “Is everything okay?” she asks, voice cracking.
Chase chuckles. “Relax. You’re not getting fired.”
She exhales audibly, lips twitching into a forced smile. “Actually,” I cut in, leaning forward. Her head snaps toward me. “I need your help. I know you sent those emails last night.”
Her eyes flare wide. “I—yes. I should’ve cleared it with you, but I thought—”
I lift a hand, silencing her. “It was perfect. Whatever you wrote, it worked. But now it means I have to be in Rochester tonight.” I let the words hang for a beat before adding, “And I can’t pull it off without you. You’re coming with me. Consider it training… and a test.”
Her breath catches, color rushing to her cheeks. She glances at Chase, as if searching for backup. “Are… are all of us going?”
“No,” Chase says, shaking his head. “I’ll hold down the fort here. It’ll just be you two.”
When she looks back at me, excitement flickers in her eyes, mixed with nerves she can’t quite hide. “Oh. Alright then.” She stands, smoothing her skirt. “I’ll get my things.”
I watch her walk out, the sway of her hips betraying more than she intends. Silence lingers in the room until Chase mutters, “This is going to be interesting.”
He doesn’t bother to hide the smirk as he scrolls his phone. He’s not wrong. The road to Rochester isn’t just six hours of business. It’s six hours trapped together. No doors, no office walls, no distractions. Just her and me.
And after what already happened between us…
there’s no telling how far we’ll go once the sun goes down.