“Morning, sir,” he says, but turns around to give us privacy while we try to straighten our clothes.
Well, my clothes. Jesse looks positively indecent now, with his puffy, kiss swollen lips, beard burn from my stubble, and his cock trying to escape his tiny underwear.
I take a deep breath and take a step back, but Jesse follows me, not allowing more than an inch of space between us. He guides me with a hand on my waist as I walk backwards from the elevator to the car, stealing kisses and telling myself it’s the last one every time. My butt hits the back of a car, and Jesse pins me to it, kissing me deeply, not giving a fuck who’s watching. I can see the driver in my periphery when I flutter my eyes open. It’s time for me to go.
With one… two… three last slow pecks, I hold Jesse at arm’s length. He looks as wrecked as I feel, not just because of the semi-public make-out session, but because I feel so fucking sad to be walking away from him.
“This sucks,” Jesse rasps.
I nod. “It does.” I eventually pull away, and try to pretend I’m not blushing as I thank the driver who has been holding the door open for me this whole time. He shuts the door, and Jesse raps on the window.
“Call me when you get home?” He says, bending through the window once it opens all the way, kissing me again. And again.
“I will. I promise.”
Cory steps up and hands me the breakfast Emmy made me. “Have a safe trip, Mr. Martín.”
“Just Luc. Thank you.” I side-eye Jesse, who still hasn’t let go of the window. “Try to keep this one out of trouble?”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
I chuckle and look up at Jesse. He’s biting his lip, like he’s trying to think of any excuse not to go back to the real world, but he surprises me again.
“You’ll think about it, right?”
“Think about what?”
“Being mine.”
He kisses me one more time, so sweetly, and I inhale his spicy scent.
Then the car is pulling out, and I turn around in my seat, watching Jesse’s nearly naked image disappear as we pull out of the hotel’s private entrance.
“You’ll think about it, right?”
“Being mine.”
TWELVE
JESSE
The moment the taillights disappear, I feel hollow.
For about thirty-six hours, my head has been clear. I’ve felt light and unburdened since the moment I saw him climb out of the helicopter. I didn’t crave oblivion or feel like peeling off my skin even once.
Now that he’s gone, that realization alone is making the walls feel like they’re closing in.
“Mr. Moore?”
I glare at Cory. He clears his throat. “Jesse,” he corrects. He’s only ever used my first name when I was at my worst.
Shit. Am I that transparent?
“I’m fine,” I say, and give him a weak smile. He nods, but I don’t think he believes me. He leads me to the elevator and rides back up to the penthouse suite with me. It’s a long, quiet, and somewhat awkward ride. Compared to the ride down, which happened in the blink of an eye. If only it had gotten stuck. Just for a little while, at least.
The moment the elevator opens, Blake points in the direction of Myra, all but kicking me to get me moving faster. “We’re behind, Jesse.”
“I know.”
