Chapter 9
Pepper
When I woke up on Monday morning, my focus was strictly on business.
I strutted into Jolt Headquarters expecting nothing more than a room full of predictable, uptight corporate executives. I had done this a thousand times in Tokyo, Paris, and Milan. I was prepared to dominate the room, present my vision, and secure my creative turf.
But the moment the boardroom door swung open and Aaron Fields walked in, my world suffered a screeching halt.
The sheer shock hit me like a physical wave.
Aaron.
The gentleman stud from the pool.
The man whose deep voice had rumbled in my ears until sunrise, whose incredible body had been pressed flush against mine on the dance floor.
I forced every muscle in my face to lock down, fighting to maintain my composure. I could feel my eyes widening, but I swallowed the gasp threatening to escape my throat.
God, he looked magnificent.
As he stepped closer, a delicious wave of his high-end cologne whisked past my nose. It sent a traitorous shiver straight down my spine, pulling vivid memories of our lips melting together in the middle of the night right to the forefront of my thoughts.
The universe had a hilarious sense of humor.
Out of all the directors in the world, it had tangled my threads with him.
I knew then and there that this project was going to be the hardest thing I'd ever done. Not because I couldn't handle the pressure. I was never a woman to back down. But because his professional reputation preceded him.
Aaron Fields was meticulously structured, strategic, and ruled by the book.
I, on the other hand, was a free spirit when it came to my craft.
While I never missed a deadline, I relied on my assistant, Priscilla, to handle the calendars, filing, and logistics so I could focus purely on the art. But my nature didn't mean I was irresponsible. I just believed that art needed to breathe, to be improvised, to be felt in the moment.
Looking at the rigid expression masking Aaron's handsome face as he sat across from me, I feared my lack of rules was going to drive him insane.
Especially after the breathtakingly intimate Saturday night we had just shared.
I managed to play my role perfectly throughout Elena's presentation, flashing a devious smile, delivering sharp comebacks, and watching Aaron surrender his defenses when I brought up our pact.
By the time I leaned down to his ear, whispered for him to bring gym shoes, and left him speechless, I was practically buzzing.
The moment I left headquarters, I put my plan into motion.
I drove straight to Jolt's distribution center to retrieve exclusive, unreleased samples of the Jolt Noir line. I needed to see how the fabric moved, and more importantly, I had a specific vision in mind for my co-lead.
Which brought me to Wednesday morning at Bayou Park.
After handing him his iced coffee and tossing the small duffel bag into his chest, I watched his brow furrow in confusion as he pulled out the men's athletic gear.
I had purposefully chosen the shortest, most fitted workout shorts the Jolt collection offered.
I knew damn well they would look incredible on him, but I was completely unprepared for the reality.
I waited outside the public restroom facilities, sipping my coffee and adjusting my camera strap.
When the door finally clicked open and Aaron stepped out into the bright Houston sun, my breath caught in my throat.
Ugh, my God, I groaned in the silent confines of my own head.
He was shirtless.
Because of course he was.
The man was unfiltered fine.
The high-performance fabric clung to his hips, showcasing a pair of ridiculously powerful, muscular thighs. Above the waistband, his torso was a flawless map of chiseled abs, his broad chest rising and falling with each steady breath, the morning sun catching the smooth expanse of his skin.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me to climb him like a ladder, but I forced my hands to stay glued to my sides.
Be a good girl, Pepper.
I slowly let my eyes trace their way back up to his face, a wicked, unstoppable smirk spreading across my lips.
Aaron caught my gaze, his jaw tightening slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers trailing down to adjust the elastic waistband against his stomach. A dark, challenging heat flickered in his eyes.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"I might be," I said sweetly, flashing a smile that gave away my guilt. I wasn't even going to pretend I hadn't orchestrated this view.
I turned and pointed toward the paved loop cutting through the trees.
"What do you say, a couple of laps around the trail?"
"Only if you can keep up," he countered, a competitive edge entering his voice as he started a quick series of standing stretches, those powerful legs shifting beneath the material.
I let out a soft scoff.
"Oh, I can keep up, big guy."
"Big guy?" he repeated, amused, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"You know, with your height and all," I said playfully, gesturing over my head to mimic just how much he towered over me.
He laughed, a rich, deep sound that melted away the crisp morning air, and shook his head as he looked down at his thighs.
"These aren't half bad," he admitted as we began walking toward the official starting point of the trail. "They aren't as suffocating as they look."
He shot me a sideways glance, his shoulder brushing mine as we walked.
I intentionally let my eyes wander down, watching the way the fabric stretched over his backside with every step.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning out loud at just how good he looked from behind.
"Suffocating is good," was all I said, flashing him a devious smile.
He just shook his head again, a low chuckle escaping him as we reached the zero-mile marker.
He stopped, adjusting his posture.
"Alright, Red. Ready?"
"I'm ready," I said, locking my phone and sliding it into my small waist pouch.
We started at a slow, measured pace.
Within minutes, the initial awkwardness dissolved, our bodies settling into a smooth rhythm. The steady thud, thud, thud of our running shoes hitting the pavement filled the quiet morning air, accompanied by birds chirping in the trees above.
It was insanely relaxing.
We didn't say anything for the first ten minutes, silently running side by side, matching each other stride for stride.
"That set looks good on you, by the way," Aaron said smoothly, his eyes fixed on the trail ahead.
A triumphant smile spread across my face.
I knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying his best to be a professional gentleman without crossing any boundaries.
But I also remembered the effect I'd had on him on the dance floor, so I knew damn well this teal set was doing dangerous things to his focus.
"It feels amazing, too," I replied, pacing my breath. "It's ninety-eight percent organic cotton, so the stretch moves well with the body."
"Nice," he said, nodding in approval. "I didn't realize they went with a heavy cotton blend for this line. That turns it up a notch."
"I agree. It's a smart play. It's going to appeal to the luxury, eco-conscious consumer base," I noted, my creative brain fully switching on as the runner's high started to kick in.
"Agreed," he muttered.
By the time we hit the one-mile marker, the Texas humidity made its presence known, and a light sweat broke across my skin.
I casually glanced in his direction, and my chest instantly went tight.
A glistening drop of sweat slowly glided down the center of his torso, tracking a path over his chiseled abs before disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts.
Fuck.
I didn't hate how badly I wanted him. I was comfortable with my own desires.
What I hated was the reality settling in my gut.
For as long as we were contracted on this project together, Aaron Fields would never cross that professional boundary.
I could tell just by the kind of man he was.
He was ruled by honor, structure, and doing things by the book.
He would protect me from a creep in a club, and he would hold my hand down a staircase, but he wouldn't compromise his hard work for a fling.
Just as we reached the two-mile marker, Aaron slowed his pace slightly, turning to look down at me with a playful glint in his dark brown eyes.
"Bet you can't go for three," he teased, his deep voice smooth despite the steady rhythm of his breathing.
I stopped short for a fraction of a second, throwing my chin up with a challenging look.
"Bet I can," I said, my competitive spark instantly kicking into overdrive. "As a matter of fact, I'll do four, and I'll beat you to it."
Aaron let out a rich, booming laugh.
"Bet," he said.
Before the word fully left his mouth, he quickened his stride, his long, muscular legs eating up the pavement.
"Oh, it's on!" I yelled, digging my sneakers into the path and accelerating right alongside him.
What started as a cooperative jog devolved into a wildly competitive race.
We ran like two kids back on the neighborhood block, pushing our limits and laughing between heavy breaths as the green scenery blurred past us. He had the natural stride advantage, but I had speed and a stubborn refusal to lose.
As the final stretch came into view, I locked my eyes onto the imaginary finish line by our concrete bench.
Pushing through the deep burn in my thighs, I threw my arms forward, giving one last explosive sprint, and crossed the line a mere two seconds before him.
"Did I mention I beat all the kids on my block at foot racing?" I boasted loudly, tossing my hands in the air, gasping but beaming with pride.
"Yeah. Probably should have led with that, Fields."
Aaron bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he fought for oxygen, letting out a breathless, deeply amused laugh.
"You are something else, Pepper."
I shrugged dramatically, wiping sweat from my forehead.
"Yeah, well. What can I say? I'm good."
As he stood to his full, towering height, our eyes locked.
The playful banter instantly evaporated, replaced by a thick silence that felt hotter than the Texas humidity.
Both of our chests were heaving, our ragged breathing amplified in the quiet space between us.
Glistening beads of sweat dripped down our faces.
I watched a single drop trickle slowly down the center of his top lip, and a wild, inappropriate urge hit me so hard my stomach did a flip.
I wanted nothing more than to step into his space and kiss him.
Just as I began to move closer, drawn by the undeniable magnetic pull between us, a sharp sound shattered the moment.
"Excuse me! Coming through!"
A cyclist aggressively honked his handlebar horn, speeding down the center of the walkway and forcing us to quickly separate, stepping backward in opposite directions to let him pass.
I cleared my throat, forcing a small laugh to cover the sudden, electric tension rolling through my veins.
"Well, that was fun," I said, gesturing toward the bench as we walked over to gather our belongings. "How do the shorts feel after working out like that?"
I asked, shifting back into creative mode.
Aaron picked up his towel, wiping down his neck.
"I'm genuinely impressed. The breathability is incredible for a cotton blend, and they didn't ride up once during that sprint."
"Exactly," I smiled, grabbing my iced coffee. "So, where is your mind at right now with the direction? Now that you have a physical feel for the material?"
Aaron paused, unsealing his water bottle.
He looked at the sun filtering through the sprawling oak trees before turning his dark eyes back to me.
"Honestly... I really like the idea of a natural, raw setting like you offered in the boardroom."
I stopped mid-sip, my eyes widening in shock.
"Really? So, no boring, sterile studio backdrops?" I asked, a triumphant smile spreading across my face.
He laughed softly, his expression relaxed and entirely captivating.
"No boring backdrops, Red."
A slow grin spread across his face.
"You win this round."
I lifted my head high, flashing him a proud smile.
"Cool," I said, a sense of accomplishment settling in my chest.
Aaron turned his back to me, lifting his water bottle to take a long drink, his muscles shifting beautifully beneath his skin.
Seeing the perfect framing of the morning light hitting his chiseled profile, my photographer instincts took over before my brain could stop them.
I quickly grabbed my camera, lifted the lens, and stole a quick candid picture.
Click.
The mechanical snap cut through the quiet air.
Aaron instantly froze, turning around to face me with a raised eyebrow.
I quickly spun to the side, pointing the lens up toward the sky and pretending to focus on a branch.
"Wow... beautiful trees out here," I said, my voice pitching up a shrill octave as I began snapping at nothing. "Just capturing the local Houston foliage."
Aaron stepped toward me, a knowing, amused grin spreading across his lips.
"Are you taking pictures of me?"
"No," I lied through my teeth, refusing to look at him as I adjusted the settings on my display screen. "Like I said before, I was simply capturing the present moment."
"Mmhmm," he muttered, clearly not believing a word, but he was gentleman enough not to press.
He slung his towel over his shoulder.
"Would you like to meet tomorrow evening to discuss the final ideas we're going to present to Elena on Friday morning?"
"Sure," I said, finally lowering the camera to let the strap rest over my shoulder as we strolled side by side toward the parking lot.
"Where are you thinking?"
"I'll text you a quiet spot later today, and you let me know if the vibe works for you," he replied, unlocking his truck.
"Sounds like a plan," I said, walking over to my own vehicle.
I paused at my door, turning back to flash him one last devious look.
"Later, stud."
"Bye, Red," he said, his deep voice carrying a low chuckle.
I watched him get into his truck, keeping my eyes fixed on the view for as long as possible before hopping into my own car.
I started the engine, my heart racing with a dangerous mix of excitement and anticipation.
Tomorrow night was our working date, and Friday morning was the big presentation.