Jack, Troy, Marion, стр. 18
I lean against the wall.
Jack looks back, presumably toward the living room where he left me. His eyes narrow as he discovers I’m right here, smirking.
Lowering the phone he growls, “Marion!”
I widen my eyes and ask an innocent, “What’s the matter?”
“You lie to me?”
“No.”
“Then he’s lying to me and you’re enjoying it?!”
“No.”
“What the fuck?!!” He turns back to ask Troy for a more definitive answer. “What is going on?” After a few seconds he roars, “Well, if you don’t know, who does?” Hanging up, Jack glares at me.
I just smile.
He clears the distance in two snaps, looming over me. And I don’t mean that figuratively. I actually snapped my fingers as he stormed up.
“I said he tried something. You know what he tried? To be my friend.”
Jack blinks at me, steps away like he’s about to leave the room in disgust. But suddenly he’s in front of me again, gathering me to him, blue eyes sharp with fury. “You think you’re really funny.”
“I do!”
His mouth claims mine. I gasp and respond, yielding to his tortured kiss. Our bodies press together and I feel his erection growing quickly as our tongues touch and waste no time in tasting each other, exploring, having a conversation my father would never want us having.
Jack remembers and groans, “David,” pulling away and leaving me panting and wanting more.
“Stop doing that! Stop it!” I grab his face and turn it toward me, imploring him, “Jack, I get to make my own choices now. So do you! You want me just as badly as I want you. I love you, Jack, and I know you love me, too!”
“You only feel this way because history has cemented a bond.”
“Can you say that? About yourself?!”
“I don’t know,” he grunts, rubbing his face like he could rip it off. “I’m too old for you!”
“I feel this way because you’re the most gorgeous man, inside and out, that I’ve ever met. Because I’ve always wanted to be close to you. You understand me and you don’t condemn me for being the bitch that I am. You love my rough edges that scare most people away from me! I want to know you in every way. When I’m close to you, I want to be closer! Don’t you feel that? I can tell it’s not just me! Or do you just want me because I’m hot?”
He laughs with pain under it. “I want you because you’re modest.”
“Cut the crap.” I run my hands down his chest and whisper, “Who has time to be modest? I get that we’re different ages. That’s why you threw Troy at me. And you’re right. He’s wonderful.” Jack’s eyebrows furrow instantly with jealousy. “I do have a connection with him. I feel it. I’m glad you sent him. And if you choose to stay away, then I will be with only him.” The brows twist more, so I touch his cheeks and earnestly promise him, “I want you.”
“Both of us.”
“Yes.”
“Greedy Mar.”
“So what?” Dropping my hands, my voice is gentle as I remind him, “You have only yourself to blame. Now, carry me to the front door so I can go home.”
A tormented laugh bursts from his lungs. “You want me to…? Fine!” Grabbing me into his arms, he kisses me. I moan into him as he mauls me all the way down the hallway. My pussy is humming from shock at how good he kisses. He breaks free to see where he’s going, then his lips claim mine again and again, each kiss rendering me breathless.
At the door, he sets me down, cups my chin with his index finger. “That’s the last time I kiss you.”
I blink at him, stunned and not quite sure if I heard him right.
He opens the door, lifts me up and plants me on the welcome mat. “Tell Troy to drive safely.”
“How…how did you know he was waiting for me?”
“I heard the traffic. The music in his car. You’ve got one man around your finger. You won’t have two.”
Suddenly I’m staring at his front door.
Jack…gone.
13
JACK
“Y ou haven’t been your usual self,” my assistant observes as he sets down my mail. “Everything alright?”
Glancing up from the spreadsheet my CFO sent, I narrow my eyes, deliberately. “You say something, Bobby?”
His jaw ticks like he’s not sure he should repeat it.
I heard him.
It’s none of his business.
I want him to get the hint.
“Sorry. I was just thinking aloud, I guess. No worries.”
“Good.” Adjusting my weight in the best office chair I could find, I get back to checks and balances, gauging if the mall I’ve got my eye on in Austin is viable.
Bobby works in my periphery, at his own computer I’ve set up in the corner. Long ago I learned that if I let assistants strictly work from home, they eat Cheetos and watch porn instead.
When I’m in town, he’s here three days. The fourth he’s running errands. I give him three days of the week free because I figured out by trial and error that people do a better job when they’re happier. Balanced lives with friends and lovers. Enough time for extracurricular activities. These things sharpen focus, and people care more about work when it’s not slowly killing the limited time they’ve been given on the planet. Feels much better to contribute by doing a good job, make a living, and have a personal life.
When I travel, he often comes with.
I need someone to reply to emails, schedule meetings, get me from place to place without hassle and with the highest level of service and luxury possible.
Bobby comes from money and he knows how to make it work. That’s the type of person I need by my side in