“I’ve got to keep you on your toes, Mr. Carmichael.” She leans back, studying my face. “We should get ready. Grant’s waiting for us.”
Grant’s annual summer gathering is, as always, a carefully orchestrated blend of intimacy and exclusivity. The sprawling oceanfront property glows with tasteful lighting. Servers glide between guests with trays of champagne, and the low hum of conversation is punctuated by occasional laughter.
Under normal circumstances, I’d be in my element here,networking, facilitating introductions, and keeping an eye on potential PR opportunities. Tonight, though, I’m going through the motions, as my thoughts continually drift to the revelation of my father’s presence nearby.
Jess appears at my side with a fresh cocktail. “You’re a million miles away,” she murmurs. She looks stunning in a simple white sundress and with her hair swept up to expose her shoulders.
“Just distracted,” I admit, accepting the drink. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Her hand finds mine, and our fingers interlace with practiced ease.
Her teasing smile draws me back to the present moment. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Twice,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
Grant passes by, and he raises his glass in acknowledgment. “Thanks for putting words on paper for me again this year, Lucas.”
I nod. “Of course.”
As he moves on to mingle with other guests, Jess tugs gently at my hand. “Let’s step outside for a minute. You need to recenter.”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Recenter?”
Her smile turns mischievous as she raises her fresh cocktail to her lips. “I think I can help with that. I know just the spot.” She drains the glass in one long swallow, her eyes never leaving mine. Then she grabs my glass and sets both on a passing server’s tray.
She leads me through the party and out onto the terrace, where she finds a secluded corner hidden by potted palmsand where ambient lighting doesn’t quite reach. The moment we’re alone, Jess pushes me against the wall, and her mouth finds mine with urgent heat.
“What are you doing?” I mumble against her lips, though my hands are already spanning her waist.
“Getting you out of your head,” she whispers, nipping at my lower lip. “Is it working?”
“Getting there,” I manage as her hands slide beneath my jacket.
She laughs softly, and the sound vibrates against my throat, where her lips now explore. “Challenge accepted.”
Her fingers make quick work of my belt, and the metallic click of the buckle is unnervingly loud in the quiet corner. My breath catches as her hand slips beneath my waistband and finds me already hard.
“Someone’s eager,” she teases.
“Can you blame me?” I reply, struggling to keep my voice steady as her fingers wrap around me.
I should stop this. We’re at Grant’s party, surrounded by industry executives, some of whom I work closely with. But rational thought dissolves as Jess sinks gracefully to her knees and looks up at me with those impossibly blue eyes.
“Jess…” My protest dies as her mouth replaces her hand, warm, wet, and perfect. My head falls back against the wall, and my hands find her ponytail, finally wrapping around the silky length I've been thinking about touching for months. “Christ.”
The sight of Jess, brilliant, sharp-tongued Jess, on her knees before me, utterly focused on my pleasure—it’s almosttoo much. “Someone could see,” I manage, though I make no move to stop her.
She pulls back just enough to whisper, “Then you’d better be quiet, Carmichael,” before returning to her task with renewed determination.
I bite my lip to suppress a groan, gripping the stone wall with my free hand for support. She’s relentless, setting a pace that has me fighting for control within minutes. When she takes me deeper, humming softly in a way that sends vibrations through my entire body, I know I’m close.
“Jess,” I warn, tugging gently at her hair. “I’m going to?—”
She doesn’t stop; instead, her eyes hold mine with a challenge I’ve never been able to resist. The tension coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps. My release hits with an intensity that steals my breath, and my muscles tense as waves of pleasure wash through me.
Jess stays with me through every pulse, taking every last drop and only pulling away when I’m completely spent. She rises with the same grace that she kneeled with, straightening her dress as if we’ve just been discussing the weather. My fingers fumble with my belt, still clumsy from the aftershocks.
“Better?” she asks, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
