25. Sara
25
SARA
F rizzy ends.
I scoff while smoothing down my hair as I approach the boardroom. I do not have frizzy ends. I spend far too much on hair treatments and salon visits to have frizzy ends .
I’m still furious over Francis’s comment when I arrive outside the boardroom. I consider my retaliation comment as I pat at the pleats in my tweed mini skirt, thrusting my shoulders back like some flustered peacock before I greet my mystery guest.
I grip the handle and burst into the room.
And then, my nipples get so hard they feel like they’ve turned to steel.
“Jack! What are you doing here?!” I shriek when the sight of him standing next to the floor-to-ceiling window, dressed in another impeccably tailored suit, one hand in his pocket, the portrait of sexy and panty dropping, startles the absolute shit out of me.
I’d be lying if I tried to convince myself he hasn’t been on my mind since our encounter in the alley way. Since that kiss . The one that sent my pulse racing, my body heating, and my pussy clenching, because yes, Amber was right, it’s been a while…
God, focus.
“Sorry,” I say, collecting myself and thrusting the image of being slammed against the boardroom table and fucked into oblivion, out of my head. “I mean, what are you doing in my office? If you needed to talk to me, I’m sure your resourceful assistant could have stalked me and tracked down my phone number.”
Whispers of humor etch their way onto his handsome face as he moves around the curve of the boardroom table. “I considered it. But I wanted to do this in person.”
I gulp as his large hands come to rest over the top of a high-backed, leather chair. His gold cufflinks glint under the low lighting, forcing the rest of his impeccably dressed ensemble to fall under my scrutiny. It’s as if the scruffy man I met on the trails was all just an illusion, something I dreamt up. Because this version of Jack is solid, something carved in stone. Not a hair is out of place.
I tuck my hair behind my ears, fighting the urge to loosen my silk necktie due to how increasingly warm it’s becoming in here. This is insane. I spent an entire night with him in the wilderness, and now I can’t form sentences because I can’t stop thinking about his body beneath that suit, and how I know exactly how it feels to be pressed against that body, taut muscles contracting against my chest and hips during a rainstorm… Stop.
I clear my throat. “Do what in person?”
Jack leans against the side of the mahogany table, not taking his eyes from me.
“On the trails, right before I left you, you spoke about an idea you had.” He watches me until I catch on. “Something about needing an edge for a promotion.”
Intrigued, I narrow my eyes, and fold my arms over my chest. “Go on.”
“What if I showed you what goes on behind the scenes of my company? What if you saw what it means to be me?” He shrugs. “You could decide if I’m more than some ‘ greedy zillionaire who reaps the benefits of others work from…a super yacht in the Caribbean’, was it?” He smirks as he repeats what I said to him at Midas the other night.
I grin as I chew the corner of my mouth. “It’s an interesting offer,” I say calmly. “But I don’t get how that helps with my promotion.”
He steps forward. “I want to hire you.”
“Hire me?” I shriek while assessing what he’s offering. Is Jack inviting me to associate with the Vandenberg Group? I’m speechless.
“This isn’t arrogance, Sara,” Jack says. “This is using what I have to help those around me. I know the sway my company can have.” He moves a step closer to me. “You don’t have to say yes, but just know the offer doesn’t come with terms, just you getting to see that I’m not a jerk.”
I find my voice. “I don’t think you’re being arrogant. I’m just surprised, that’s all…but I guess you did tell me you’d do the opposite of what I’d expect.” I take a deep breath, then shake my head. “You really want to hire me?” He nods. “To do what?”
Jack pulls out a chair, gesturing for me to sit. I’m hesitant, but also fascinated to hear what he thinks I can do for him. I slip onto the taupe leather, crossing my legs before tugging at the hem of my skirt when I feel the material expose too much of my thigh. Why did I choose the miniskirt today of all days ?
“You look really fucking hot by the way.” Jack stares me dead in the eye while he pulls out his own chair from beneath the table, twists it to face me, and takes a seat opposite.
Stifling a grin and ignoring the urge to sit on his lap and grind against his crotch, I force a neutral expression. I don’t respond but I know he sees my cheeks flush.
He smirks before a different type of focus takes over him. Business Jack. “I have twenty-eight venues across the city that serve food on a daily basis.”
Before I can say something sarcastic like, yes, you’re rich, I get it , my breath hitches in my throat when I feel Jack’s leg brush against mine. I force my body to remain collected, stifling the flinch that would make it obvious that the contact affected me. Instead, I subtly squeeze my thighs together.
He continues, “As a result of the variety of cuisine we offer, we end up with a lot of left over ingredients. Some of it goes to shelters and charities, while the rest goes to waste. I want you to help me with that. I don’t want a single grain of rice to see the inside of a garbage can.” He pulls a document from the inside of his suit jacket, and as he’s leaning to pass it to me, I’m hit by the fragrance I can’t get enough of. The same leathery notes from the sweater that embarrassingly still lives on the coat stand in my apartment.
What the hell does he think he’s doing here? Smelling so good and talking business with the same mouth that kissed me a couple of days ago. He knows nothing can happen here, why is he teasing me like this? Why am I this turned on? And why do my eyes keep flicking to the bulge in his pants?
“These are the figures of food waste.” He leans closer to me as I take the document. “You think you can do something about this?”
Our heads angle to survey the figures, my eyes dragging down the page and lifting every so often to look at Jack who’s waiting in anticipation for my answer. Seconds pass as I consider. I look from the numbers to his face, tracking the corner of his mouth and the curve of his upper lip, then back to the numbers again.
I swallow, focusing for long enough to realize, yes. Yes, I can help him. Because this is the pitch I’ve been working on since I got back from Maine. Bring restaurants on board, expand our services. It’s literally what I was trying to highlight to Walter earlier, when he wouldn’t listen. Only, now he would. Now that a company as prestigious as the Vandenberg Group wanted to collaborate. Nobody was dumb enough to turn down this kind of business.
“It’s something I could take a look at,” I say softly, almost in disbelief of what I’m about to agree to. “I’d need time to work out the details, and talk to my boss, but…yes, I think I could help.” I shrug, contemplating how good it would look for my interview if I were the one who began a partnership with the Vandenberg Group.
His mouth tightens at one side, tugging upwards. Our heads are inches apart. “Really? You like the idea?”
“I do.” And then I’m frowning, my eyes flicking to his lips again. “It’s just…”
Jack leans forward by a millimeter but he might as well have closed the gap entirely because my whole body is heating, my mind racing back to the kiss…
“Just what?” he whispers. And then I realize why I’m getting so warm. I don’t know when it happened, but my knees are pushing into his, so much that his hands are resting against the sides of my legs because I’ve completely invaded his space. An immediate ache forms between my legs as I glance down at his hands.
He follows my gaze, a look of surprise lining his handsome features, like he didn’t even realize we were touching, like contact between us is as natural as breathing, something that didn’t require thought. I feel him tense as he attempts to take his hands away.
I latch onto him quickly, keeping his hands in place, because I’m not ready to break our connection.
“I feel like…I know everything and nothing about you.” Our noses almost touch, our breaths becoming shallower. My voice is just above a whisper, “I started to get to know Jack, the one during the storm. But this new person, I don’t know him…” I trail off as his face almost grazes mine and my eyelids flutter to absorb his proximity. “But I want to…”
I can feel my body giving in as I lean closer to him. The gray ring that wraps around his irises appears deeper, darker somehow. Piercing tones of charcoal and blue stare back at me, tracking my every move. I could stop this. I should stop this. Anyone could walk in…
“Then work with me,” he says, gripping the sides of my legs a little tighter. “Just because I go by a different name, doesn’t mean I’m not the person you met. The suit, the bars, the company.” His voice drops. “I’m still the same person you spent a night with…” He leans in closer still. “The same person who held you when you couldn’t fall asleep.” He brushes my hand with his, and the memory of that night in the tent ignites around me like charged stardust. “The same person who gave you his sweater…and hasn’t been able to get the image of you wearing that and nothing else, from his mind…”
My heart begins to race, my head tilts up a fraction, my eyelashes grazing his cheek. Then my body won’t allow me to do anything else other than press my lips to his.
He groans in approval as I suck at his bottom lip, dragging it between my teeth before I slip my tongue into his mouth.
Jack holds me tighter as we fall deeper into the kiss. Our mouths mould together, devouring each other fiercely. Then he’s drawing breath and his body stiffens as he appears to steady himself. “There’s nothing wrong with reinventing yourself when your old life stops serving you,” he says against my mouth. “Starting over brought me opportunity and success.” His thumbs press against my inner thighs, hands sliding higher and higher as my legs shamelessly part. “It led me to this moment right here.”
I move my hands from his, only to hold the sides of his face as my body demands more of him.
“It makes sense…but there’s one problem,” I whisper in the space between kisses. “If we work together…we can’t do…” I kiss him harder. “This.” I pant against him as I slide my hands into his hair and scrape my nails through his scalp.
Jack smirks against my lips. “Guess I didn’t quite think this through.” His mouth works against mine, and all I can think about is the irony of my words while I allow his knees to slowly nudge mine open. “I guess we should stop.”
“Mhmm,” I moan without slowing down. “We have to stop.” More kisses. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about you.”
I feel him grin against my lips. “Curious how?” His hands sink beneath my skirt. My pussy clenches.
I exhale a long breath, my fingers gripping him tighter. “About the way you’d feel…”
Jack strokes at the apex of my thighs before his thumbs reach the soft skin next to my panties. Something stirs in my lower belly as I feel myself become wet.
“The way I’d feel,”—he grazes his thumb against the seam of my panties—“doing this?”
A gasp sneaks out of me. “Yes.”
“Curious to know what I’d feel like stroking your pussy, Sara?” His thumb brushes right over my center.
“Oh my god,” I whisper into his mouth before resting my forehead against his, our breaths in synchronicity. “Jack…” It’s both a warning and an invitation as I allow my legs to open an inch wider.
Footsteps sound in the distance, voices travel from down the hall, a door closes. Right. We’re not alone.
He strokes his thumb against the silk in slow excruciating circles, before…he stops.
“About that date I’m taking you on…” he says with his hands still beneath my skirt.
I shake my head, grinning. “We have to keep it professional, remember?”
Jack groans. “No kissing, no dating.” He squeezes my thighs, smirking. “What am I going to do with you, Sara?”
I dip my head, and whisper, “I’m sorry. I have my reasons.”
Jack slowly slides his hands from beneath my skirt, my body aching for him to come back. He lifts a hand to hold my chin with his thumb and index finger.
“I know, and that’s okay.” He brushes his lips against mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”