Chapter 17 Octavia
Seventeen
Octavia
I moaned as Javier took several steps forward, bumping me backward until my back pressed to the nearest wall and caused one of the portraits to shake.
He picked me up in his arms, and my dress rose higher up my thighs. One of his hands slid up the side of my leg while the other, which was on the back of my head, came around to grip my face between his long fingers.
The grip was possessive and powerful, and it definitely sent a message.
“I will not apologize for wanting you to myself,” he growled on my mouth.
Wanting me?
I searched for words to say but hardly had enough time to catch my breath, because his mouth was crashing down on mine again. He removed his hand from my face and carried me through the hall to his bedroom.
I’d been in his bedroom only once, and that was to get the Bluey adhesive bandages. Aleesa loved them, but Javier hid them because she didn’t use them for cuts or scrapes. She used them like decorative stickers. Other than that, I’d had no reason to go in there.
But now I did. And it was with him.
He didn’t stop kissing me, even when my back landed on the plush king-size bed. I grabbed hold of his face and kissed him deeper, then our lips parted only briefly so he could lean up and remove his shirt.
Once it was gone, he dove in again, wedging his massive body between my legs.
His erection rocked up and down, pressing on my pussy, making me wetter by the second.
A quivering, desperate breath left my body.
It’d been so long since I felt this. One shift of my panties, one tug of his shorts and boxers, and he would’ve been inside me.
Just like that.
He was a hell of a replacement for Terry. Javier was someone I could see myself sleeping with, but I could never go through with it—well, that’s what I told myself.
No. Really. I had to be smart. I couldn’t jeopardize my career for a man’s penis. Ever. Even if there were no strings attached. Even if we were both willing to look the other way. It was unprofessional as hell and could get very ugly.
The thought of that slapped some sense into me. If things went awry after this, if we took it too far and did have sex, how would we feel tomorrow? Or better yet, how would he feel?
I had a good guess. He would regret it. One hundred percent.
“Wait.” I pressed the palms of my hands on his chest, and he pulled away, lips swollen, eyes glazed with lust. He was unbelievably hard beneath those thin basketball shorts.
Moonlight bathed his bronze skin, highlighting dark-brown nipples on a beautifully sculpted chest. He had a drool-worthy six-pack, too, with deep cuts on either side that created a delicious V.
He was so sexy. Too sexy, really.
Seeing that tent in his pants stirred something up inside me. Made me riled up and eager, as if he were water and I was in a desert, parched and only wanting what he could bring. Yes, I was acting like a thirsty bitch.
He would have been perfect to have right now, just to satisfy me. Just to scratch that itch . . .
But, again, we couldn’t. Damn it. Turning him away was going to ruin me.
“We shouldn’t,” I finally told him, coming to my senses.
He stared down at me and immediately started nodding, dark strands of hair tumbling onto his forehead. “Yes. You are right. I—sorry. You are right.”
He climbed off the bed and combed his fingers through his hair.
“It’s just Aleesa,” I added as I sat up, hoping he would understand.
Fortunately, he did. He nodded again. “Yes, Aleesa. We cannot ruin this for her. She enjoys having you here way too much. And I do not want you to look at me differently.”
“I wouldn’t look at you differently,” I murmured. “But I’m afraid you would. Or that if you met someone in the near future, you’d let me go as your nanny because of what we did. And . . . I really like my job.” I shrugged innocently, hoping those reasons were enough.
His dark eyes landed on me. “I do not plan on meeting anyone in the future.” His words were final. As if he knew what all his life had in store for him.
I huffed a laugh. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. I do not wish to meet anyone. I do not think I will ever marry again. It is all just too . . . complicated.”
Hmm. I could relate. Still, I blinked at him, unsure what to say to that.
“But like I said, you are right. We should absolutely not do this,” he said, more to himself than to me.
When he sat on the edge of the bed, I slid forward so I could climb off. The moment was over. The electricity was fizzling away. It was time for me to go.
I tugged my dress down before pushing loose strands of my locs over my shoulders.
We gazed at each other. The room fell to a calming silence.
A slice of moonlight took up half the room, bathing his broad shoulders, dark hair, and part of his firm jaw in silvery light.
I should’ve walked away.
Right out that door.
And it was like he was telling me to do it—to just go. Because if I didn’t, something would happen that neither of us could control.
But then he stood up and inched closer, examining every detail of my face. He towered above, locking eyes with mine. Heat radiated off his body, warming me up, luring me in.
“Go, Octavia.” He whispered it like it was a warning.
“Okay,” I whispered back, even though everything in me was dying to stay.
But I had to go. Right now.
I turned around, ready to make my way to the door and escape all the heat and desire swelling in his room.
Before I could, though, Javier caught my wrist, twisted me around, and muttered, “Fuck it.”
Then he kissed me again.