9. Jackson
Chapter nine
Jackson
I adjust my tie in my bathroom mirror, then glance down at my watch as a door slams down the hall. Faint sounds echo. Noah and Georgia . It’s barely seven in the morning, and they’re arguing.
At two o’clock this morning, my phone alerted me that Noah was home, the earlier notification being a false alarm. And a blessing. My cock was still hard as I watched Georgia scurry like a scared little mouse out of my room. I finished my shower and got dressed. When I realized Noah hadn’t returned, I thought about finishing what she’d started. If she wanted to play, I’d indulge her little fantasy. But I wasn’t sure she was ready. I would destroy her. Alter her needs. One taste of my world, and she wouldn’t want anything else.
Instead of storming down the hall and ripping her out of her room to do all the terrible and wonderful things to her, I had to settle for the fantastic blow job in the shower.
My dick jolts to life thinking about it. She was like an angel on her knees. So innocent, yet she had this fire in her eyes that told me she wanted all the dirty things. Fuck, I wanted to paint her face white. Beautify her with my cum. I’d planned on it, too, but I hadn’t been able to stop. My cock wanted more of her mouth. Her tongue. The back of her sweet throat.
It’s a shame this is all it will be. I slipped up. That’s on me. There’s no way I’m falling down the rabbit hole of young, off-limits pussy. Even if my filthy mind hasn’t stopped fantasying about fucking her over and over.
I hear another door slam, the sound coming from farther down the hall. Had Noah been in her room? Had he slept in there again? A ping of jealousy runs through me. I wash my hands and exit my en suite. I walk past Georgia’s room and stop at Noah’s door, pounding my fist on it.
“I’m busy—”
I open the door and find him by his dresser, slipping on a pair of slacks. “What the fuck?”
“Watch your mouth,” I growl at him. He buttons his pants and reaches for his shirt when I notice the dark maroon on his neck. “Is that a fucking hickey?”
“Mind your own fucking business.”
My anger spikes to an unhealthy level. “I told you, separate rooms.” His girlfriend is a hungry little thing. Two men in the same night. My fists clench at my sides.
“Don’t worry. This ain’t from Georgia. That prude bitch wouldn’t—”
My strides eat up the space between us, and I shove him against his dresser. “You will not disrespect any woman in my house. Are we clear?”
His gaze hardens as anger radiates off him. The weight of my words settles heavily in my chest. I have no room to talk.
“Ahhh, you’re a hypocrite now.”
“That shit was a long damn time ago, Noah. And nothing’s ever as black and white as you think it is. Maybe when you finally grow the hell up, you’ll understand why some truths are better buried.” I release him and step away. “Cover that shit up.” Without another glance, I walk out of his room.
After taking a business call in my study, I walk into the kitchen. Georgia leans against the sink, drinking a cup of coffee, while Noah is at the table eating a bowl of cereal and swiping through shit on his phone.
“Morning.” Georgia’s gaze meets mine, and a flush creeps up her cheeks, her lips parting slightly.
Noah doesn’t bother looking up from his phone.
I step toward the coffee machine, grabbing a mug as I move past her, deliberately brushing against her arm. The slightest tremor runs through her—so subtle, most wouldn’t notice. But I do. The way her fingers tighten around her glass, the sharp inhale she tries to disguise. If I weren’t so attuned to a woman’s reactions, I might have missed it. But I don’t.
Pouring myself a cup, I take a seat at the table. As much as I want to fuck with Georgia, the memory of him finding us in the pool last night has me shutting down any games. “Noah, I want you home tonight. I’d like us to spend some time together. We can all go out to dinner, watch some—”
“I’ve got plans.”
“Cancel them.”
He discards his phone, bringing his scowling eyes to mine. “No can do. But I’m sure Georgia’s free.” He adjusts his body to face her. “Right, babe?”
She takes a sip of her coffee and dumps the rest in the sink. “Please, talk to me when you don’t reek of tequila and cheap perfume,” she fires back. “ So glad you’re not my problem anymore.” Then, without missing a beat, she looks straight at me. “Mr. Blake, would you mind giving me a ride to work today?”
I suppress the smirk threatening to creep across my lips. Ballsy little thing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Noah’s reaction. His jaw tightens, grinding like he’s biting back words. Then his fist slams against the table, the sharp crack cutting through the room as he shoves back and shoots to his feet.
“You’re a bitch. Maybe you should think about going the fuck home. You’re not wanted here.” I fight not to get up and punch my son square in the goddamn jaw, allowing him to storm off. I wait for the front door to slam shut before bringing my eyes to Georgia. I expect to see a broken girl wounded by the hurtful shit my son spewed. Instead, I see anger. No tears. Just a fire blazing behind her hazel eyes.
“I’m ready when you are.” She holds her chin up, dismissing the cruel interaction. My cock hardens against my slacks at her feistiness.
“Of course,” I reply, leading her to the garage. The ride is quiet, tension hanging in the air. I wait for her to bring up last night, but she doesn’t. The silence gnaws at me until I finally break it. “That was risky, don’t you think?”
She pulls her gaze from the window. “So was going to your room last night. But I took a chance, and it paid off.”
“It did, did it?”
“I would say so.” Her glossed lips curl into the sexiest damn smile. Don’t even think about pushing her head into your lap.
I bring my eyes back to the road. “You know that can’t happen again, right?” Fuck, I don’t sound convincing to myself, why would she believe me?
“Whatever you say, Mr. Blake.” My name on her tongue is going to get her in trouble. It’s wicked, and I love how she sounds when she says it. Now, all I can think about is her moaning my name while she begs for my cock.
“Mr. Blake makes me feel old.” Which I am. Fuck, I’m forty-two.
She licks her bottom lip. “You didn’t feel old when I had you in my mouth.”
Fuck. Me.
One more comment like that from her, and she’s going to be riding me in the parking garage. “Remember that feeling, Peach. It was the first and last time,” I say, shutting down any further conversation. I shouldn’t have even started it. My dick is hard as stone, but it needs to remain in my pants.
When we arrive at the office, Rachel greets us.
“Morning, Mr. Blake. Wayne Gallagher called. He told me to let you know that he sent over the diagnostic reports. And your nine o’clock is running late, so I pushed your eleven o’clock meeting back thirty minutes.”
“Thanks, Rachel.”
I lead Georgia down the hall to my office, though I have no idea what I’m going to do with her. Mentoring feels like an even worse idea than it did yesterday. We step into my office, and I drop my laptop bag on the couch. “I’m going to have you train with the sales team today,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. It’s the best course of action.
“I thought I was going to shadow you?”
The disappointment in her voice settles over me, but I remain indifferent. “It’s best you work with the sales team today.”
“Best for me? Or you?”
For us both. “Georgia, let’s not make this a thing. I told you nothing else is going to happen. As much as I enjoyed it, it shouldn’t have happened at all.” I sit in my leather chair and open my calendar to review my day. She doesn’t move. “You can go now. The sales room is down the hall—”
“I remember just fine,” she says, her tone clipped. “Have a great day, Mr. Blake.” Without another word, she spins on her heel and storms out of my office. Fuck, the way she purrs my name… Down boy , I lecture my cock as he makes himself known. I want to run after her, throw her to the ground, and ram inside her plump ass, ruining her tight hole.
I hit the intercom for my assistant. “Sarah, I need a cup of coffee. Make it strong.”
I need more than coffee to tame the sick beast inside me.