Page 72 of When There Was You
“You aren’t into casual sex?” Does he seem hopeful?
“Nope. I’m monogamous by nature.” Unless, well…is being with two guys monogamous? Mono equals one. Technicalities be damned—we were committed to each other.Until we weren’t.“I prefer commitment.”
“I don’t know if this makes me a caveman or male chauvinist or what, but Ireallyfucking like hearing that for some reason.”
I’m silent, working myself into a tizzy. What would Butch think of my threesome activities? Would he judge me? Reject me? Scorn me? Will my past forever haunt my future?
“You still with me, beautiful?” His voice forces my thoughts from their spiral.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I know we’re taking things slow, and haven’t even broached this subject, but does that mean you want to be exclusive?”
A caught breath escapes. “Yes,” I answer honestly. “Do you?”
“Fuck, Jacqui. I can’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on you…I absolutely want you all to myself.”
My heart leaps even as my mind lobbies to stay grounded, reminding me not to get swept away or read too much into it.Killjoy.“Not into sharing then?”
“No fucking way,” he practically growls, his timbre dipping lower, almost menacing. “And any man who’d agree to that is not only a fool but fails to understand your worth.”
Well.His words swim in my brain, trapped in an eddy.
“I’m a possessive motherfucker. I protect what’s mine—and will go any lengths to ensure you are safe, loved, and properly fucked.”
My pulse hammers. I gulp down his intense promise like a shot of tequila. “I don’t want to share, either,” I say quietly.
“Good,” he mutters.
There’s a pause—as if we’re both shell-shocked by our mutual revelations.
“What are you doing to me?” His agony is palpable.
“The same thing you’re doing to me,” I admit. The flutters amplify, taking flight once more. I’m falling for him, and it sure as hell sounds like he’s getting feelings for me too. For two people determined to avoid a relationship, our trains are headed off the rails.
Maybe they’ve already derailed.
Thirty-Eight
It’s taken weeks to finalize the article about Hamilton Restorations, but I’m proud of the work. After a cursory review of the printout, I’m about to leave my cubicle to fax it to Gus when Don Jennings appears, blocking my exit. His brazen eyes linger on my body.
The nerve of this man. And I can’t say a fucking thing. A flash of anger burns in my chest and frustration ripples through me like a set of ocean waves.
“That outfit isverybecoming, Jacqueline.”
My teeth grind together, and I forcibly relax my jaw. “Thank you. Can I help you with something?”You lech.
“Just checking on the status of the Hamilton feature.”
Oh, right. “I finished the draft and was about to fax it. I believe it captures the essence of the business, their storied history, and state-of-the-art auto shop.” My palms turn sweaty, and I slide one down my skirt. He tracks the movement over my hips, his hazel eyes practically bugging out. I stare at the floor. “I never thanked you for recommending me...” I shift my gaze back to his, trying to find my backbone.
“Don’t mention it. I had a hunch Gus wouldlike you.” He winks.
This douchebag and his vulgar winks. With this one, I’m not sure what he implies; Gus was nothing but professional and clearly in love with his wife. I never got any weird vibes, unlike the inappropriate kind emanating from Don, as if he’d happily bang me in my cubicle this minute.
“Interviewing Mr. Hamilton was a pleasure. He was generous with his time and answered all my questions. Same with his son Butch.” Who provided some extra…details.
“Is that it?” he asks, nodding at the papers clutched in my hand.
