Jax
The following day, I’m dead on my feet. The club closed at 2 a. m., and I waited around afterward to
make sure that Nick and his men left as they had promised. He’d spent much of the night in his booth,
leering at me, ordering free drinks, and making a nuisance of himself.
I had sent Scott home so he wouldn’t have to see him, but that had meant I was up much later than
usual. I feel like I could fall asle ep standing up right now.
Even with all that, a pulse of anticipation moves up my spine as I approach my desk. The dreams I
had last night, when I was finally able to get to sle ep, were filled with images of our interrupted fuck
yesterday. It left me achingly unsatisfied.
If Mr. Asshole offers to pick up where we left off, I wouldn’t give him any lip about it.
I place my bag beside my desk, waving to Vince as he walks by, his arms filled with passes for new
recruits.
From the emails Jones has received from Fran lately, the company is expanding aggressively.
Hundreds of people have applied for the open roles, and her team has been busy with interviews and
applications all week.
When I check the schedule, Jones is tied up for much of the day, too.
As I sit at my desk waiting for my computer to boot up, I stare at the door of his office, irritation
thrumming through me as I remember how he lied to his sister about me.
He didn’t even look embarrassed or guilty; he was just eager for me to play along. Still, the thought of
getting ten thousand dollars fills me with a warped sense of satisfaction.
What am I going to do when he’s tired of me though? “What are you looking so serious about?” I jolt
back in my seat, turning to the end of my desk where Mr. Jones is standing. He looks edible in a charcoal
suit and black shirt. Fuck, I want to rip that thing right off—
Pull yourself together, Jax. “I was just getting pissed about the fucking lunch on Sunday,” I say,
ke eping my voice low. His eyes narrow as he glances behind him at the people trickling into the office.
But when he turns back, there’s amusement too, as he licks his lips.
“And what do you object to? Getting paid for sitting on your ass?” he asks, coming around to the front
of the desk and crossing his arms over his chest.
“What are your other sisters like?” “Irritating,” he says mildly. “And my mother is very conservative,
so you won’t be able to get away with those killer heels at her place.”
“Well, screw that, I’m not wearing flats.” He raises one eyebrow, his blue eyes looking even more
startling against the dark shirt. “Are you trying to get more money out of me?”
“What? No!” I say, passing him the preloaded i Pad he takes to all his meetings. “I’m just saying if you
bring a girl home, she should be able to be herself.”
He pauses as he scrolls through his schedule, his eyes moving to mine as I realize what I’ve just said.
“I don’t mean bringing a girl home in that sense. But people shouldn’t have to dress differently
because of your mom’s preferences.”
“You haven’t met my mother.” “No, and I wouldn’t have to if you just called your sister and told her
the truth.” Then I fall silent as I think about the possibility of losing the ten grand. “But you’ve told her
now, so I guess I’ll have to put up with it,” I add hurriedly.
He nods, putting the i Pad under his arm.
“Just wear something cute and colorful, and she won’t even notice your flats.”
I open my mouth to protest, but as I do, Devan Chase arrives behind him. The other man looks
short-tempered already and glowers at me before they move off together, speaking quietly as the rest of
the office starts to arrive for the day.
For the remainder of the morning, I work through a load of emails and r eports. Fran has also sent
through a couple of presentations for Mr. Jones to review, and I’m surprised when she puts a little winky
face at the bottom of the email and asks me to check them first.
As I do it, I notice a few typos and several numbers put in incorrectly. I end up fixing the
presentations myself and send them back to Fran, explaining what I’ve done.
After about half an hour, she sends me a heart emoji with “life saver” underneath. From the errors she
hadn’t picked up, I’d bet anything she’s dyslexic. I checked Ben’s schoolwork for most of high school,
and there were similar patterns throughout. His dyslexia is so severe that he tends to avoid math or writing
of any kind, which hasn’t helped his job prospects.
By the time lunch rolls around, my head ke eps nodding forward at my desk, and I’m fighting to stay
awake.
My head is still filled with doubts about Sunday, and in a moment of weakness, I google the Jones
family, searching for information about his mother online. Donna Jones appears to be heavily in volved in
many of the company's charity galas, and there are dozens of pictures of her in pearls and Chanel suits. I
start to really worry about my wardrobe.
I can’t afford to buy anything new right now, not with what I have going on with Scott, but I
genuinely don’t have a stitch of clothing that isn’t black, and a lot of it is leather. There’s no way I have
anything ‘cute and colorful’ for Sunday.
Shit. I glance at Jones’s door, my lips thinning, as I close my eyes, my mind flooding with images of
the sex yesterday.
I still can’t get it out of my head. I’ve never been like that during sex in my life. With Carrie’s
interruption, I’d barely had a chance to analyze my behavior, but on
the journey home, and long into a sle epless night, I still couldn’t figure out what had come over me.
I was basically putty in his hands after he spanked me. And why the fuck did that feel so good,
anyway?
No one has ever done that to me before, and I can’t say I hated it. Quite the opposite, in fact, I want
him to do it again. The second his hand connected with my skin, all the worry, all the fear just evaporated
out of my head.
I was left with this blissful peace I’ve rarely known in my life. The sex had been amazing, but it was
the silence inside my head I loved the most.
“You’re daydreaming again,” comes a mocking voice behind me, and I rise as Jones walks past me
into his office. I follow him, ke eping the door wide open, and he smirks as I come up to his desk.
“Something you need to discuss with me?” he asks. “And would you stop being nice to Fran? She is
positively beaming right now, and she’s a better employee when she’s in a bad mood.”
“Uh, no, you should be happy she’s happy.” He actually chuckles at that. It’s a soft, honey-smooth
sound, and it makes my stomach twist pleasantly.
I wait as he sets his i Pad down and sits in his chair. He doesn’t glance at me again, waiting for me to
speak, but I can’t get the words out.
Am I really about to ask this man for help? “Look, I don’t think this Sunday lunch is a good idea.”
“You don’t have a choice. Anything else you need to say?” I glare at him, but he simply leans back in his
chair, raising his eyebrows.
Why is he so hot? It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at his smug face.
“I wasn’t kidding,” I continue. “You asked me to wear something ‘colorful,’ and that’s not even an
option. I haven’t worn anything that isn’t black for over ten years.”
His bright eyes assess me for a long while, and I fight the urge to squirm. Other than during sex, he
has rarely said anything about my appearance, and I feel a warm wash of pleasure as he looks me up and
down.
Then, he’s standing up again and checking his watch. “Come with me,” he says, walking past me to
the door.
“Where are we going? You have a meeting in an hour.” “It got moved. Devan’s being an asshole, and
I told him to come back when he was pr epared to be civil, so it’s tomorrow morning instead. Come. With.
Me.”
I shiver, and he sees me do it. I’m so pissed at myself, I don’t even notice him approaching me, and as
he passes, even with the door open, he runs a hand over my ass in just the spot where he was hitting me.
I grunt and hear him snort in response. I am going to kill this guy.