Surrender Your Love

By: J.C. Reed

Chapter 9

I never thought I’d get to miss my old boss, James, but an hour into my new job and already I felt like calling him and asking for a return to my realtor position with Sunrise Properties. Not that it was on offer, but a girl could at least give it a try. James was a snarky bitch most of the time, however he was also a friend and a sucker for tears and drama. He had cried his way through The Notebook, and I figured I could find a good enough excuse (think a relative’s last wish) so he’d take me back.

And risk Mayfield backing out of their deal to buy James’s company? Fat chance.

If James liked anything more than drama, it was money. And Mayfield’s offer would persuade anyone to reconsider employee contracts and friendships.

“Don’t be a wimp,” I mumbled to myself as I neared Jett’s bedroom door with a certain trepidation. It’s not every day that you’re being summoned to your boss’s bedroom to assist him with ‘choosing clothes’. Technically, yes, that was mentioned as part of the job description, but I figured I’d get to advise him in the safety of a department store with lots of other people around. No one mentioned I’d be locked up with him in a stunning Italian mansion, surrounded by romantic views of mountains and lakes that basically invited you to let down your guard and enjoy a fling.

And I had no doubt Jett was up for a fling all right. I could read it in his heated gaze whenever he so much as glanced in my direction.

What did he see that other men didn’t? I had no idea, and if he wasn’t my boss I might have asked. But as things stood, this attraction was unwelcome, and I’d be damned if I’d admit it to him by blatantly talking about it. No matter how much his undressing looks invited me to get closer to him, he was my boss and I wasn’t going to sleep with him. Again.

Jett’s bedroom was situated on the first floor, mine was on the second. Thank God for that. The few steps and extra ceiling between us provided a bit of protection, albeit a weak one. I had no doubt he’d be professional about the whole situation and wouldn’t impose on me without my explicit permission. The sad thing was that I sure as hell would give it to him if only he proposed. Which he wouldn’t, of course.

I knocked on the door gently. When he didn’t answer, I knocked once more, this time a bit louder.

“Come in,” he called. His voice was low and slightly choked as though he was in the middle of a workout.

“Am I interrupting? I don’t mind coming back later,” I said, hesitantly pushing my head through the open door and scanning the room. It was about the same size as mine and looked almost identical, but with stark masculine furniture, cherry hardwood floor, wide bay windows, a cream ceiling, and spotlights. A wide king-sized bed with a thick, cream spread and two rows of cream cushions was set up in the middle. The padded chair, night tables, and a mirrored chest were all a few shades lighter than the floor and built a beautiful contrast to the white walls.

By the balcony door was a computer desk. The notebook sitting atop it was still running. When Jett didn’t answer I entered the bedroom but left the door ajar. Ignoring the notebook’s screen and email inbox, I headed for the mirrored chest. And that’s when my gaze fell upon the walk-in closet to my left. Holy cow, it was huge, and by that I mean it would have served as a whole apartment in New York. No wonder the guy was out of breath searching through what looked like the whole floor of a department store.

“How can a man have so much stuff?” I mumbled, scanning rows over rows of shirts and slacks and expensive shoes. He’d made a fortune selling them on eBay.

“In my position you can’t be seen wearing the same suit day in, day out,” Jett said. My gaze snapped sharply in his direction, and I almost choked on my breath.

Apart from his navy CK pants, which were so snug they left nothing to the imagination, he was naked. I knew I was staring at his naked chest like an idiot, and yet I couldn’t force myself to peel my gaze off his glorious body.

He was all bronze skin and defined muscles. I bit my lip as my gaze wandered down his sculpted chest to the three rows of hard muscles on his abdomen—muscles my nails itched to graze and bury themselves in. My gaze followed his happy trail to the narrow hips. His underwear hung so low I could see just a hint of neatly trimmed hair and then a well-defined bulge—and a big one at that. Heat traveled through my abdomen and pooled between my legs. My pulse picked up speed, and a rush of excitement washed over me. I had never stared at a man like this. Then again I had never met such a fine specimen. Did I want to pull off his pants and see whether the real deal was as hot as the one conjured by my imagination?

Hell, yeah.

Would I do it?

Hell, no. Or at least I hoped not.

“Like what you see?” Jett asked, a little hoarse.

His voice jerked me back to reality. I was furious, as much at his cockiness as at my own reaction to the mere sight of hard muscles and taut skin. I bit my lip so hard it hurt, and finally managed to avert my gaze. “I think you asked the same question a while back, and I told you my answer back then.”

“Yeah, but your answer was a lie, and we both know it.”

“Was it?” It was a feeble attempt at hiding the fact that he was right. The question was meant to shake his oversized ego, maybe even leave a tiny dent in it, but it only managed to summon a crooked smile to his lips.


I loved those lips.

He inched closer until he stood mere inches away and his breath almost caressed my face. We were so close I could smell his manly scent—a mixture of shower gel and deodorant and him.

It was intoxicating. I wanted to bathe in his scent and to spread it all around me. To have it inside me.

“Was it, Brooke?” he whispered.

My breath hitched in my throat. I loved it when he said my name like that. It evoked all sorts of emotions in my lower abdomen and between my legs. I swallowed hard, probably too loud, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was—

“What do you want?” I asked so low I had no idea whether he had heard me.

“What do you think?” His heated gaze scorched the front of my top. The tip of his tongue flicked over his lips, leaving a shimmering, wet trail behind. I was standing behind the closed door, my heart beating wildly as he flashed a meaningful smile, leaving no room for interpretation as to what exactly he wanted.

“You can’t have it.”

He cocked a brow in wry amusement. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not available.”

“You’re seeing someone?” His tone became frosty but he didn’t pull back from me. “Even if you are, I’m not afraid of competition. I’ll make you forget him in a heartbeat.”

I smiled at his cockiness. Boy, was he confident. One day I’d recover my own feistiness and verbally punch a hole in that unhealthy confidence of his…just not this minute because right now I couldn’t think straight.

“Want me to make you forget him, Brooke?” Jett whispered, leaning closer. I barely had time to breathe before his lips lowered onto mine. He kissed me with such ferocity I felt I had never been wanted so much in my life. His tongue swirled in and out of my mouth in the sweetest and most delicious dance, and I melted into his embrace. My fingers clutched at his arms as my head began to spin and my legs threatened to give way beneath me. He pushed his hips into my abdomen and I groaned into his mouth. Beneath his expensive underwear he was hard. If only a mere kiss from me did this to him, I wondered what my touch could achieve. Slowly I reached up and ran my fingers through his dark hair and down his strong chest, touching every inch of soft skin. His chest hair was dense but soft, manly. I laced my fingers in it and pulled gently until his hips rocked into my belly, rubbing gently. My groan was swallowed up by his exploring mouth.

One minute we were kissing, the next it was over with absolutely no transition. His arms dropped me so quickly I lost my balance and almost landed flat on my ass. My eyes fluttered open and I looked up at Jett’s cool expression.

“What’s wrong?” I croaked confused, my mind fighting its way back to reality. Telltale dampness had gathered in my panties. I crossed my legs and pressed my thighs together to hide the shameful result of my lust.

Jett’s lips were still moist from our heated kiss, and his eyes shimmered with need. Apart from that, he seemed unnaturally collected, unfazed by what happened between us.

Well done, Brooke, one day in the job and already you’re trying to jump the boss’s bones.

I hadn’t started it, but I sure did nothing to stop it.

Flames of shame burned my cheeks and wandered down my neck. I moistened my lips and looked away. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Don’t be,” Jett cut me off.

I shook my head. “It’s all my fault. I probably gave you the wrong impression, which wasn’t my intention. My boyfriend and I just broke up and I—”

Jett’s thumb moved beneath my chin and he pressed gently, forcing me to face him. His expression was dark, menacing even, and his face was a mask of controlled irritation. Whatever I did or said didn’t seem to please him, so I clamped my mouth shut before I managed to humiliate myself even more.

“We need to sort this out before it gets out of control,” he said matter-of-factly. He made it sound like what happened between us was nothing but an inconvenience that needed immediate dealing with.

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

“It will, Brooke. The moment I met you, I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Don’t even pretend it’s not true.” His gaze settled on my open lips. For a moment I thought he’d kiss me again…until he let go and turned his back on me. “Wait for me in the living room. I’ll be with you shortly.” His tone was hard and left no room for discussion. I regarded his strong back and shoulders. His muscles were tense beneath his smooth, taut skin. A tiny drop of sweat rolled down his spine and gathered at the waistband of his pants. Whatever issues he had, he wasn’t as unperturbed as I thought.

“Yes, sir,” I said with a smile as I walked out of his bedroom holding my head high, quite pleased with myself. Whatever strange reaction Jett Mayfield could evoke in me with nothing but a handshake, he wasn’t immune to me either. The realization excited me. It made the trouble I knew I was getting myself into almost worth it.

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