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She sat quietly as he loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. He turned around just in time to see Jane yawning. It was only eight, but she looked exhausted.
“Ready for bed?” he asked.
She blushed as he said, “I have a guest room for you to sleep in.”
“Right, of course,” she said.
“Okay, follow me.”
He grabbed her bag, and she followed him out of the kitchen. “This is the living room.” He pointed to the doorway to their right and waited as Jane peeked her head inside. He stopped at the next door. “My office.” She also checked it out, and he pointed out the guest bathroom and the formal dining room before they went upstairs. His bedroom door was open, and he paused. “This is my room.”
He expected her to only glance into it like she had the others, and his damn cock stirred when she stepped right into his room. Jesus, he was in trouble if Jane standing in his room made him horny.
He followed her in reluctantly and folded his arms across his chest as she studied the room.
“It’s very nice,” she said. “I like the fireplace.”
“Thank you.”
When Jane’s gaze fell on his unmade bed, he suddenly and fervently wished he had made it. It was way too easy to imagine her crawling between the rumpled sheets, her body naked and ready for him.
His cock was hardening, and he cursed under his breath. “Come with me, and I’ll show you the guest room.”
“Yes, Mr. Dawson,” she said.
His dream came roaring back to him, and he turned around abruptly. There was no way he could hide the bulge in his pants after that. Fuck! Was she trying to kill him?
“I told you to call me Luke,” he said more gruffly than he intended.
“I’m sorry.”
He was beyond tempted to turn around and pick up from where they left off with that kiss yesterday. He clenched his hands into fists. Forgetting that she was his PA, she was also exhausted and probably scared. He was an asshole.
“Mr. Daw – I mean, Luke, did I do something wrong?” she asked.
“No,” he said, “of course not.”
He left his bedroom, hoping like hell she followed him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her soft footsteps. He shoved open the door and stepped aside. There was no way in hell he was going into the bedroom with her. He didn’t trust himself not to do something incredibly inappropriate.
She slipped by him and studied the room. “It’s lovely,” she said.
“That door leads to the bathroom,” he said. “If you need anything in the night, just…”
What exactly would she need in the night? The only thing he wanted to give her was a slow fucking, and that was the last damn thing on her mind. There was no way she felt the tension between them, and even if she did, she would chalk it up to him being a jackass again.
“Okay, um, thank you again, Luke. I promise I’ll be out of your hair in the morning,” Jane said.
“Good night, Jane.”
“Good night.”
He shut the door before he could do something stupid like beg her to join him in his bed. His cock still hard and lust pulsing in his belly, he stalked down the hallway to his bedroom. He stood in his bathroom and contemplated having a cold shower before throwing his clothes in the hamper and brushing his teeth. He was climbing into bed when he heard the faint but unmistakable sound of the guest bathroom shower. He groaned and flopped onto his back to stare blankly at the ceiling.
Jane was in the shower. She was in the shower, and she would be very naked and very wet. Maybe she was running soap over her body at this very moment. Maybe she was sliding that soft hand of hers between her thighs and…
Fuck! He needed to stop this. He moved restlessly in the bed as forbidden images of a naked Jane flickered through his head. Maybe he should knock on the door and ask if she needed help. He could wash her back and that small but delectable ass of hers. He threw back the covers and gripped his erect cock. He rubbed it roughly, picturing Jane leaning against him while the hot water flowed over their bodies. He would cup her breasts and tease her nipples until she was begging him for more. When she was breathless and needy, he would slide his hand to her pussy and caress her swollen clit until she cried his name and came all over his hand. He would lift her, brace her against the wall and make her take every inch of his cock until her hot, tight wetness completely consumed him. He would take her fully and leave no doubt in her mind that he was claiming her as his and his alone.
His hips arched, and he came all over his hand and his stomach. He threw his arm over his mouth to muffle his loud groan as his orgasm swept through him. When the pleasure faded, shame took its place, and he jumped up and hurried to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up fast, irrationally worried that Jane would come charging into the room and demand to know why he had masturbated to the sound of her in the shower. He threw the cloth into the hamper and climbed back into bed. Jesus, he was a pervert. A much more relaxed pervert, but still a fucking pervert. With a loud sigh, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.
