Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
ENORMOUS PROBLEM
Griffin
The last few nights had been a blur. Business dinners, investor meetings, Jessa by my side through all of it, turning heads in gowns and Louboutin shoes she had no idea how to walk in until she simply decided she would.
She charmed everyone. Laughed with the waitstaff. Complimented the investors’ wives without sounding fake. Joked with the valet when our car was late.
Every room I walked her into, she disarmed with raw, unpolished realness no one here knew what to do with.
Me? I couldn’t look away. She proved a more entertaining sideshow to my main event.
I remembered Elsa at similar events—icy, immaculate, mean when she thought no one important was listening. I’d been stupid enough to call that love.
Jessa reminded me of the only real mother figure I ever respected—Sophie’s mom.
She’d started West Games with my father at a kitchen table.
Brilliant, kind, no airs, she brought the heart to our home.
Dad’s ego scaled the company; his demands broke their marriage.
She left with Sophie, head high, before Dad could kill her spirit.
A model of strength, that was Jessa, too. Warm. Real. From nothing, yet determined to matter.
We fell easily into an after-hours routine. Theo asleep, my day done, we curled against each other in my bed. I used to drag myself to sleep at the end of every long day. Now I had a curvy woman waiting for me there.
Worth every second. Worth the signature on the contract.
An enormous problem.
I’d never let a woman distract me from business before.
Sam noticed. During this morning’s preparations for the charity benefit, I botched a line in my speech because I was replaying Jessa’s mouth on my cock in the shower.
I corrected the slip. But Sam’s sharp eyes had cut across the table like knives.
After the meeting, he lingered. “Something wrong, Grif?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you?” He leaned on the conference table.
“You’ve never been sloppy before. But earlier you faltered.
Looked less than confident.” He shook his head.
“I’d bet Jessa has something to do with this.
Don’t let some small-town woman cloud your judgment, Griffin.
We have that event over at the club this afternoon.
The IPO is weeks away. You need to keep your head in the game. Keep up the ruse. Nothing more.”
He left with the warning hanging in the air. I stared at my desk for an hour, furious at him—and at myself because he was right about one thing: the act was dangerously close to becoming something a little too real.
Voices outside my office door had me curious about who was speaking with Marianne. She knocked. “Griffin, you have a lovely visitor.”
Jessa stepped from behind her and leaned on my doorframe. “Thought I’d stop by before the club event.”
“Nice of you. Come in. Marianne, hold all my calls.” I stood, clocking Jessa’s silk-straight hair, the trench coat, the smile that said trouble.
Marianne shut the door with a wink.
Jessa locked it, shut the blinds on the thin window next to it. She hung the coat at the hook by the door.
The navy satin dress moved with her body as she stalked toward me, sultry eyes locked on mine in a way I couldn’t ignore. Her floral and clean fragrance hit first—then the sight of her breasts, high and pushed up like a dare.
“New push-up bra?” I arched a brow.
“Black card perks,” she said, coy. “Turns out I love lingerie.”
Heat crawled up my spine. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see those perks for myself.”
“Ask nicely.”
Christ. This woman.
“Please,” I growled. “Come here. Unzip that dress before I rip it off of you.”
Her lashes dipped. She slid the zipper down. The dress puddled. Black lace, garters, and stockings complemented her body in a vision that could end my empire.
“You didn’t come here only to say hello, did you?” My voice dropped.
She smiled, slow and wicked. “All I could think about the past few days was you fucking me across your desk.”
Her words slammed through me. Her bottom lip teased between her teeth.
I pushed everything on my desk aside. Papers scattered. A pen clattered to the floor. I hoisted her onto the surface. Pressed her thighs apart. Sank to my knees. I removed and tossed my tie and shirt aside.
“Gonna do naughty things to me?” she teased. Breathless already.
“Damn right.” I dragged my tongue up the inside of her thigh. “Now be a good girl and let me eat lunch.”
She gasped when I pushed the lace aside and closed my mouth over her. I circled, sucked, took her in long, slow laps and quick, greedy flicks. She writhed, heels digging into my back, chanting my name like a prayer and a sin.
“Griffin—oh—”
I flattened my palm to her belly to steady her in place and didn’t stop until she shattered, thighs tightening around my head.
“Beautiful,” I complimented against her skin. When I stood, her lipstick was smudged, chest heaving, skin flushed. My cock throbbed for her.
I shoved my trousers down, and caged her wrists above her head, kissing her mouth so she tasted herself on my tongue. Then I pressed into her slick and ready channel in one slow, ruinous stroke.
“I’m going to fuck you so you never forget what my cock feels like.” My voice went feral. I wanted to ruin her for any other man.
“Then do it, Mr. West.” Her eyes burned into mine. Daring me.
I drove into her. The desk rocked. Breath and skin-on-skin and the wet, hot sound of it built in intensity. Her curves took me, her belly pressed to mine, and something chained since the divorce snapped loose.
I wanted to plant myself so deep the world would know. Mine. She was mine.
She broke first, sharp and gorgeous. The pulse of her tight walls dragged me under with a wild guttural sound I didn’t recognize as belonging to me. I came hard, pulsing inside of her. I held her through it, riding the aftershocks until we both went still.
We lay there, chest to chest, my pulse hammering with hers. I claimed her lips, tasting sex and victory and trouble.
“First time my office has been christened,” I admitted.
“Really?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m not entirely the playboy people think.” I eased out, then pushed my release deeper inside of her with two fingers. “Hold it in for me.”
She laughed, wrecked and wicked. “What exactly are you making me do?”
“Keep me with you all afternoon.” My voice came out as a command. “At the meeting, while I talk numbers, while everyone stares at that ring on your hand, I want this to be our little secret.”
She gasped. “Griffin…”
I smirked. “We’ll come back here for seconds before we go home.”
“You’re a dirty rich man.”
“Only with a good girl like you.”
Yes, I mixed business with pleasure and felt no shame. I dared anyone to read the flush in our cheeks, the scent of sin at my collar, the rock on her finger.
I straightened and offered her my hand. We made use of my private executive bathroom to clean up. With minutes to spare, we were ready to go.
As a finishing touch, she applied red lipstick. “There. Am I presentable for today?”
“Oh, yes. You’ll be turning heads. I might get jealous.”
She winked at me in the mirror. “Ready to conquer the room?”
“No,” I said, slipping her arm through mine. “Ready to conquer them all.”
“Sounds dangerous, and I’ll bet you’re cocky enough to do it too, Griffin.”
No. The real danger wasn’t the IPO, or the people involved in it. But it was her, because somewhere between business and pleasure, the lines between acting and reality blurred.