19
LOCKE
The world was conspiringto keep me away from Jett Davis’s ass.
First, I’d spent two hours on a call with Minnie, discussing some complex legal matters with my grandfather’s estate. This had involved multiple embarrassing incidents of me staring off into space, thinking of the raw need and vulnerability on Jett’s face when he’d finger-fucked himself.
Minnie urged me to follow up our call with the candidate interview she’d mentioned earlier in the day, and I agreed. Although the idea of sinking into Jett’s body to lose myself for a little while was seductive as fuck, I was still head of Maris Holdings, and I knew what my priorities were. I just hoped Jett would understand the delay.
I couldn’t believe I’d had to leave him like that, sexy as fuck on the floor, stretched out and desperate for release.
Having sex with Jett was completely different from having sex with a woman. Even when I’d had highly physical sex with women, it had felt performative. Like the woman was only acting “dirty” for my benefit and not because she, herself, was turned on by it.
With Jett, it was clearly equitable. He was physical as fuck, and dirty talk only seemed to ramp him up. If anything, he seemed to be holding back his responses to me. I had the feeling that if we were truly alone in the house, I could get him to shout and cry when he came.
I blew out a breath and refocused on work. The interview.
Carina was accomplished and smart—the perfect candidate for the position, just as Minnie had said. She was also very attractive. Exactly the kind of woman I would have been interested in pursuing, if she wasn’t about to be my employee. This realization wasn’t as disappointing as it should’ve been.
After shooting Minnie a “You were right” text, I finally closed down my computer and stood to stretch. I needed sleep and Jett, not necessarily in that order.
I’d taken two steps away from my desk when a message from Vukasin Drakovic, one of the Paxis players on the council, popped up on my phone.
The Bremen derailment involved Drakovic cargo which has since gone missing. Regrettably, it may negatively impact my visit.
I stared at the screen. Missing cargo from the Serbian company meant missing weapons. Which most likely meant the derailment was not an accident but a targeted offensive.
The manner of his message made it clear he thought it was related to the Russian activity, the reason for our tournament.
I shot him back a quick confirmation of receipt and benign reassurance that we’d handle any arrangements required.
And then I blew out a sigh and sat down to do much-needed research on the issue.
After a few moments, I heard a soft noise and looked up. Jett padded sleepily from the bedroom out to the main part of the house, obviously trying not to disturb me.
I followed him.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked before he reached the living room.
He jumped and turned around. Then he smiled. “Hey. I was going to sneak some of Roberto’s sorbetto.” He shrugged. “I got hungry.”
I realized with a pang that I’d missed the window. He’d waited for me—skipping dinner so we could have sex—and I’d blown it.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged again. “I understand. Shit happens, and your job is very important. Get back to work. I’m fine.”
He looked disappointed but not angry, completely the opposite of women I’d been in similar situations with in the past. As he turned to continue on to the kitchen, I followed him.
“Friends don’t let friends midnight snack alone, Jethro,” I said when Jett shot me a questioning look.
He grinned. “Shit, babe. If you’re there, I’ll have to restrain myself and only eat a mildly embarrassing amount of sorbetto. Maybe you should go back to work. Surely there’s a cyclone somewhere with your name on it.”
I shook my head. “And let you finish the sorbetto without sharing any of it? Not a chance.”
We snuck into the darkened kitchen like little kids, in a way Celeste and I never would have actually done as kids.
“I don’t even know where the fridge is,” I admitted in a hushed voice.
