Page 50 of One Reckless Night

20

AMELIA

Isat on the edge of my bed, my heart pounding, my mind racing. The tension between Jared and me was impossible to ignore. At first, I thought it might just be me. But it became clear I was not the only one feeling this strange pull. I had never been so physically attracted to a man.

How could someone be so infuriating and so amazing at the same time?

I stared at the wall, replaying the night over and over in my mind. The way Jared’s hand had lingered on my back, the intensity in his gray eyes when he looked at me, the way his voice softened when he said my name—it was all too much. And yet, not enough.

I sighed, flopping back onto the bed. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About us. There was something between us, something undeniable and electric. I felt it every time he was near me, every time our eyes met, every time he spoke to me in that low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down my spine.

But what was it? Attraction? Sure. Chemistry? Absolutely. But nothing about this was simple.

Jared wasn’t just some handsome, brooding man I could easily dismiss. He was brilliant, driven, and—dare I say it—vulnerable in a way that made me want to peel back every layer he kept so carefully hidden. And yet, he was also infuriatingly closed off, his walls so high I wasn’t sure I could ever climb them.

He was also my boss, technically. A romantic entanglement with him wouldn’t just risk my heart but my research as well. And he wasn’t known for commitment. The man had been very clear about that. I had never been the type to have flings, hookups, or one-night stands, so that was a deal breaker. Although if anyone could make a single night worth it, I suspected it would be him.

I groaned, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. This was ridiculous. I was a professional, a scientist, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t have time for this kind of nonsense. I knew him and his reputation. He was not a man I wanted to give my heart to. I didn’t even want to flirt with the idea.

I really thought he was going to try and kiss me. A lot more than that. But he didn’t. He just walked away.

It was for the best.

Sure, I wanted him and I wanted him to want me. And I thought he did. The way he looked at me, the way his fingers lingered on my skin when he zipped up my dress… it wasn’t just in my head. But still, he kept his distance.

I stood up, pacing the room, my thoughts a tangled mess. I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep pretending that I didn’t feel something for him. That I didn’t want him. I made a snap decision.

I was going to confront him. Get it all out in the open. No more unspoken tension. I could put myself out of my misery. I walked out of my room and right next door to his.

And then I stood there, staring at it trying to organize my thoughts. He needed to know we could never kiss again, and certainly nothing more than that. We both felt that attraction, that spark, but we wanted different things. I just needed to tell him in no uncertain terms to keep his distance.

His door opened. There he was, looking just as torn apart as I felt. He had untucked his shirt and the top couple of buttons were undone.

We stared at each other for a moment. I was sure we were both surprised to find me standing at his door. I opened my mouth to set him straight.

And then he reached for me, pulling me toward him. Our lips crashed together.

It was like a dam breaking. All the tension, all the longing, all the frustration… it all came pouring out in that kiss.

He pulled me into his room, kicking the door shut behind us. He pushed me against the wall, his hands sliding up my body until he was cupping my breasts.

His lips left mine only to trail down my neck. I gasped as his teeth scraped against my skin. My hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to get my hands on him without barriers. His chest was warm and solid under my palms. I let out a shuddering breath as I pressed myself closer to him.

“Amelia, if you want me to stop, tell me,” he murmured against my collarbone.

I said nothing. His hands slid down to my hips, gripping me tightly as he ground his hard length against my belly.

He kissed me again, harder this time, one hand sliding up to massage my breast. I tugged at his shirt until it was off, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back. He pulled me closer. I pulled my mouth from his and sucked on his neck.

I felt his hands slip inside my dress, his fingers tracing the lace of my bra. He pulled it down, freeing one breast and taking it into his mouth. I groaned, arching into him. His tongue teased my nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. My legs weakened. I was glad he had me pressed up against the wall. The solid wall was the only thing keeping me upright.

He tore away from my skin for a moment, gaze locked with mine. “I want you so badly,” he murmured, voice rough and needy.

I nodded, reaching down to tug at his belt buckle. He helped me undo it before pushing his pants down and kicking off his loafers at the same time.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

I did as he asked. He pulled the zipper down and then pushed the bodice forward. I slowly turned to face him. I wasn’t big on getting naked in front of anyone, especially a man like him, but the way he was looking at me erased all my self-consciousness.