Page 46 of Fake It For Glory

MERIDA

When the limousine dropped us off at my doorstep, I felt like an exposed nerve, raw and electrified by the intensity of what had just transpired. Jensen, ever the gentleman, walked me to my front door, his presence comforting in the midst of my mounting confusion. Comforting and distracting. I couldn’t believe I had gone down on him in the back of the limo. That was a first. I had never and would likely never do anything like that again. I still couldn’t explain what came over me. He was unlike anyone I ever met. He made me feel sexy and beautiful. Never before had I felt pretty.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “I had a good time.”

I could barely catch my breath with him standing behind me. I could feel his breath brushing over the back of my neck. It made the hair on my arms stand up. I involuntarily shuddered. I could still feel his lips on my breasts. His fingers inside me.

I fumbled with my keys, my trembling hands betraying me as I struggled to unlock the door. It was as though my fingers had turned to jelly, and I couldn’t get a grip on anything. A soft sigh of frustration escaped me.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “You can go. This lock is tricky, but I’ll be fine. I’ll get in.”

Jensen, observing my pitiful attempts, took pity on me. “Here, let me help,” he said. His voice once again sent chills down my spine.

With practiced ease, he unlocked the door and held it open for me to enter. I hesitated for a moment, my gaze locking with his. What had just happened between us? It felt like a whirlwind, a passionate storm that had swept us up in its tempestuous embrace.

“We must have been drunk,” I blurted out, trying to make sense of it all.

But when I voiced my uncertainty, Jensen’s response caught me off guard. “I’m not drunk,” he said, his tone steady and sure. “Not even a little.”

I licked my lips nervously, my own thoughts racing. “Neither am I.”

There was a charged silence between us, and I couldn’t deny the attraction that still hung heavily in the air. I felt like he was waiting for something. Or maybe that was what I wanted to think. Did we kiss goodnight? That made it feel like an actual date. This was not a date. I was essentially an employee.

“I should go,” he said but made no move to actually leave.

I saw his gaze drop to my lips. I immediately licked them and tasted him. Another shiver chased down my spine. I had it bad. I was hot for him.

I had no business lusting after a man that was way out of my league. I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking he liked me for anything more than a quickie in the back of the limo. Not that I thought that was a bad thing. It was good for me. I was the one that hungrily went down on him. I didn’t hold him responsible in the least.

“Would you like to come in, Jensen?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The moment I said the words, I wanted to take them back. I felt like a damn fool. I couldn’t even remember if the house was clean.

His eyes bored into mine, searching for something I couldn’t quite comprehend. And then, with a slow nod, he stepped over the threshold into my townhouse. The door closed behind us. I probably should have thought more about my choices for that night, but it was too late now.

But before I could utter a single word of doubt, he reached out, his warm hand catching my chin and gently lifting my face to his. I looked into his green eyes and saw no doubt. He wanted me. “What about your driver?” I whispered.

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out,” he replied.

His lips met mine in a searing kiss, and all thoughts of insecurity and doubt fled my mind. I froze for an instant, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Jensen’s kiss was possessive and hungry, igniting a fire within me that I hadn’t known was possible. I thought the kiss in the limo was amazing, but this was so much better. So much hungrier.

Before I knew it, he had kicked the door closed behind us, his lips never leaving mine. He murmured against my mouth, his voice husky with desire. “Where’s the bedroom?”

My heart raced as I let my instincts guide me. Without a word, I took his hand and led him down the dimly lit hallway to my bedroom, a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement coursing through my veins.

“You’re okay with this?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Thank God,” he murmured. “Turn around.”

I did as he asked. He slid the zipper of my dress down. I pulled my arms back and let the bodice fall forward.

My dress dropped to the floor. I stepped out of it, standing before him in nothing but a black lace bra and matching panties. He ran his fingers down my back, sending a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to touch me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” I whispered back, overcome with emotion. I wanted him to touch me, but I also wanted to savor this moment. I felt like I needed to memorize it in my brain so that I could replay it later when I was alone and lonely.

“Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?”