9. Jessica
JESSICA
What the hell was that? I couldn’t get back to the safety of my car fast enough, and even though my legs were like Jello and my knees were no longer existent, I pushed myself to get the hell out of there and away from him before I made an ass of myself.
I fumbled with the door handle and hoped that he wasn’t looking down from a window somewhere in the building, even though I was pretty sure his office was on the other side. By the time I sat in the driver’s seat, I’d lost every ounce of strength I had left. What the hell just happened up there?
Even sitting in the parking lot wasn’t far enough away from whatever the hell that was.
Thank heaven for no contact key fobs because I probably couldn’t find the slot at this point; as long as I had the key on me, my engine would start, which it did, and for the first time since I had it I was tempted to let the thing self-drive even though I don’t trust it just yet.
I turned the AC on high, and it still wasn’t enough to cool me down. My skin still burned where he touched me, and my breathing was all over the place. I felt jittery and nervous, and my gut was tied up in knots that refused to open no matter what I tried.
I made it back to the house in one piece and hightailed it to my room to hide from any prying eyes. I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that my face was as red as a sunburn right now. My cheeks have been on fire since I walked into his office, or more like I was dragged in.
I jumped into the shower and stood under the cold stream, searching for relief, but when I tried to wash myself, it felt like little pinpricks of electric shock were running just beneath the surface of my skin.
Everywhere I touched felt like a powder keg about to go off, and I kept reliving the moments he touched me as if they were happening all over again.
My mind was doing its best to shy away from the obvious answers, but there was no escaping the truth.
That bastard had done something to me. I don’t know how or what, but I know this shit started with him.
Angry scrubbing my flesh till it was raw didn’t help either; beneath the sting still lingered that feeling of electric excitement, as if my body was waiting for something.
I slammed out of the shower since all the water did was make things more pronounced.
Now I’m wet and twitchy, standing here like a ninny outside my shower stall with the knowledge that there is no way in hell I was going to scratch this itch.
Hopefully, it doesn’t last and wears off like most unwanted ailments tend to once they’ve run their course.
I was satisfied with that thought, the thought that this was just one of those passing fancy things, like when I wanted to be a concert pianist at the age of twelve and made my poor parents set up lessons and buy me all the necessary equipment, right down to the twenty-thousand-dollar piano they got because I said I wanted it.
I must’ve played that thing three times in my existence, and the flurry of exhilaration didn’t last longer than it took for me to get over the recital had gone to that had started that whole mess off in the first place. By the end of the first month, I couldn’t even remember the artist’s name.
That wasn’t the first, nor was it the last thing I had gone nuts over, only to lose interest in a short space of time. Besides, I’d ignored him for years now and was damn near an expert at it, so I tried my best to ignore the nagging voice in my head that insisted that this time was different.
I shook myself to get rid of his presence, which seemed to hang in the air like a specter.
This is why I didn’t want to go anywhere near him or his stupid office.
This is all Dad’s fault. He’s supposed to be helping me out here, dealing with the mess that I just left, so how could he throw me into an even bigger fire, this raging inferno that seems to have heated up a bunch in the last hour or so?
I screamed in disgust when the towel did improper things to my thoughts when I tried drying off. I walked around my room naked, afraid at just the thought of pulling on something that would further inflame my senses because even air against my skin was making me uncomfortable.
I climbed into bed and jumped right back out again; even the sheets were against me. My body was too sensitive to touch. I sat there shaking my head while silently cursing Julius Blair for existing.
JULIUS
Four days. It’s been four days since I last saw her, and they’ve all been some level of hell.
My office doesn’t feel like mine anymore; I both dread and look forward to going in each day now, knowing that her presence still lingers.
I know it’s not possible, but I swear I can still smell her perfume in the air, and to make matters worse, each day at about the time she’d arrived here, I get very tense.
My body goes into this zone where it’s as if I’m reliving that moment from memory. Sometimes, I even find myself waiting for the phone to ring with her father on the other end, telling me that she was on her way. It’s bad, it’s really bad.
I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything without thinking about her. I close my eyes, and she’s there; I open them, and she’s there. She follows me into my dreams and latches on to me throughout the day until I think I’m going crazy.
I heard a snap and looked down at the pencil in my hand that I had just snapped in half for no good reason. What else am I going to break? Yesterday, it was a wine glass at dinner. I’d dropped the stupid thing because I forgot it was in my hand.
My idiot brother took that opportunity to remind me of all my screwups for the week and broadcast everything that I had done in the last few days that he called suspect right there in front of everyone. Now, that wouldn’t be so bad had it not been for my sister-in-law.
Little Vicki is like the moon to my brother’s sun; she’s the calming force in his life and the family’s to some extent, but she has a protective streak in her a mile wide. I wouldn’t mind it so much if part of it didn’t stem from guilt.
I know she still blames herself for what happened between me and Melanie and for every failed relationship I’ve had since then, and no amount of telling her it wasn’t true seems to get through to her.
So, his going on about me not being myself only made her worry, and I had to deal with the fallout, which runs the gamut from her checking my forehead for signs of fever to her questioning me like a damn MI6 inspector.
Roman, for all that he’s a pain in the ass, had cornered me in my room later that first night to dig his nose in my shit, and I was sensible enough not to give anything away, or my crazy family would have me hitched to that nut faster than I can blink.
I should’ve known when he didn’t get what he was looking for out of me that he’d go elsewhere, and that’s what he’d done, and that’s how he learned from my assistant that Jess had been here.
He hasn’t said or done anything with that information so far, but I tremble to think of what he has planned, if anything.
This is all her damn fault. Why can’t she be like everyone else? All those other women who try to get under my skin and fail miserably because my barriers are up and unshakable. Why did she have to invade my space? Not only that, but she followed me home, and everywhere else I try to go these days.
So, I’m sitting here at the beginning of what was supposed to be a very busy workday with no interest whatsoever in anything that was in front of me on my desk.
All I see is her; her face when she’s being bratty now morphs into what it would look like if I put her beneath me and fuck that look right out of her.
Most of my wayward thoughts these days seem to end up in the same place. With her under me, over me, bent over in front of me, it doesn’t matter the position; they all have the same goal. Her stuffed full of my cock.
I jumped up from behind my desk and walked around the room as if that would help me escape this new hell, but I knew from what I had experienced these last few days that it wasn’t going to work; nothing would.
Well, that’s not entirely true. Something would work, but that something just might lead to my total destruction.
I’m trying hard to make that matter, but it’s getting harder with each passing day.
I thought that the more time passed, the less power this newly awakened attraction would have, but it seems to be going in the opposite direction.
With each passing moment, the desire and need for her just seem to get deeper and more persistent.
I know where this is going and where it needs to end, but I’m just not ready yet.
I’m not sure if I will ever be. Who the hell looks forward to giving up who they are to become someone entirely different?
I don’t know what Dad was like before he met Mom, but I know that between him and my little brother, the love game has not been kind to them. Granted, they’re like Mandarin ducks who mate for life, but the way their women run them, hell no, I refuse to sign up for that bullshit.
Mom rules Dad with a look from across the room, and my demented brother would burn the whole world down if it would stop his woman from crying.
I live with this shit and have seen it every single day; no thanks.
Add the fact that both their women are ten times more relaxed and somewhat saner than Jessie, and I’d be a fool to go anywhere near that shit.
“Fuck it; where the hell is she?” I left the office and headed out to my car. I’m going to have this out with her once and for all. I refuse to be her little fucking puppet on a string.