Surrender Your Love

“Did you have a nice trip?” Resuming her small talk, Emma shot me a glance over her shoulder. My face caught fire as countless memories flooded through my mind. It had been a great trip, definitely one I’d never forget.

Grateful she couldn’t see me, I nodded. “Yes, thank you. Italy’s beautiful.”

“That’s true.” Her brief chuckle and sudden bounce to her stride made me avert my attention from my surroundings to gawk at her. She was tall with slim legs, a well-defined waist, and glossy brunette hair that reached down her back. She was pretty, and I wondered whether she was Jett’s type. The thought of Jett kissing her sparked an instant pang of jealousy.

“Have you been?” I asked, focusing hard to keep the bite out of my tone. Even if Jett took her with him to Italy, it was before we met. His past was none of my business, and I wouldn’t concern myself with it, just like he wouldn’t meddle in my affairs.

“Last summer.”

I swallowed hard to get rid of the sudden choking sensation in my throat. I was over analyzing. A few friends of mine had been to Europe, so what? Her statement didn’t have to mean anything.

“Lake Como was divine,” Emma continued. “And even though it’s just a lake and doesn’t really have a proper beach, I liked the privacy of it.”

Shit. She was there—at Jett’s private place, which meant they most certainly spent the night in the same house rather than in a hotel. Bile rose in my throat, and the throb inside my head turned up a notch, as I imagined her in his bed.

“His place is heavenly, isn’t it?” she gushed. “He showed me everything.”

My stomach twisted into tiny knots as pangs of jealousy hit me with full force. Emma stopped in front of another glass office and turned to face me, unaware of the hurricane wracking havoc with my insides. Her smile was still in place, and a tiny glint played in her eyes as she continued down memory lane. “Did you get to visit the beach?”

“Once.” I blushed again at the memory of Jett perched between my legs, lapping at my lady parts for the first time. He had such a gifted tongue, it couldn’t possibly be an innate talent. He must have gained the experience from somewhere, which drew my attention back to Emma, and my initial fondness for her began to dissipate into thin air. Maybe being friends with her wasn’t such a bright idea after all. I walked past her into the room, suddenly intimidated by her infectious smile and her perky ass.

“Is this my office?”

When she nodded, I tossed my handbag on the desk and slumped into my swivel chair. Booting up the desktop computer, I figured she’d get the hint and leave. Unfortunately, Emma seemed to have taken an instant liking to me and harbored no such plan. She popped into the leather guest chair opposite from me and crossed her sky-high legs, triggering another pang of jealousy. It wasn’t her fault she was so gorgeous, and I sure couldn’t blame Jett for being attracted to her. Heck, even I liked what I saw, when I had never been one to show bisexual tendencies.

Emma leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Between you and me, Mr. Mayfield has hinted he might be taking me again this summer.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Over my dead body.

I smiled a saccharine smile so sweet I felt sick just imagining it. “Isn’t he generous?”

“Yes.” Sighing, she brushed her hair back. “The house belongs to his son though, and he’s not so keen on Mr. Mayfield popping over.” She trailed off, letting me fill in the blanks.

Son?

My eyes narrowed on her as my head put two and two together, and a flash of relief washed over me. She was talking about Jett’s father.

“Isn’t Robert Mayfield married?” I was vaguely aware of the idiotic grin on my face, but I couldn’t help it. Jett wasn’t a whore—his father was, which was perfectly acceptable as long as he hadn’t passed that trait to Jett.

“He’s been divorced for a few years. Told me he was heartbroken because his wife cheated on him, and this is the reason why he won’t remarry so soon again,” Emma said, probably believing every word that womanizer told her. She didn’t even know he was the cheater and not his ex-wife.

I nodded, playing along, because having one Sylvie in my life was enough. I didn’t need more friends who’d drag me to the local bar whenever yet another unfaithful guy broke up with them. But she was the only person I knew here and, most importantly, she wasn’t sleeping with Jett, so I figured I wouldn’t mind her tagging along. “Do you drink?”

“Not often.”

An evening in Sylvie’s company and that would change in a heartbeat.

“I’m meeting a few friends for after-dinner drinks on Friday night. You should come. You and my friend Sylvie will have lots in common.”

Her smile beamed back into place. “Thanks. I’d love to.”

We chatted for a few more minutes, during which Emma introduced me to my working schedule before she returned to the reception desk. At eight-thirty, the hall began to fill with people. Some walked past, ignoring me. Others peered in to introduce themselves, eyeing me up and down as though to determine whether I was fit for the job. These were the big players in real estate. While the prospect of meeting them had scared me two weeks ago, I found them no more intimidating than Sylvie’s hair stylist, who kept pursing his lips in sheer horror every time he caught a glimpse of my unruly locks.

By nine a.m. the soothing background music was replaced with the shrill ringing of phones. I began to skim through Jett’s meeting schedule for the day, officially starting my first day of work at Mayfield Realties as Jett’s personal assistant, when a tall figure appeared at the periphery of my vision.

“Brooke, a word please.”

My head snapped sharply in Jett’s direction, and my heart jumped into my throat.

Holy cow.

He was steaming hot. With that disheveled bedhead, broad shoulders, strong chest, and moss-green gaze of his—he belonged on the front page of a fashion magazine. He was dressed in a black well-tailored business suit, white shirt, and a black silk tie. His trademark upper button was undone, allowing a glimpse of bronze, smooth skin. Skin I had licked and trailed with my fingertips all the way down his smooth torso to the narrow line of dark hair that—

“Brooke?” His tone was detached, but the flicker in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

He knew I found him attractive, and he made no secret of it. Damn him and his inflated ego. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that I was still staring. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t peel my eyes off him. The way his slacks rode low on his hips, emphasizing a bulge and strong quadriceps, reminded me I had rode on those thighs merely twelve hours ago. I could still taste his skin on my lips as we moved in perfect unison. Damn! Why couldn’t I get the picture of him naked out of my head?

“You want me to come to your office?” Stupid question since he’d already said so.

He nodded slowly. “Only if you don’t mind.”

“Okay.” I jumped to my feet and wiped my clammy hands on the front of my skirt nervously. Jett held the door open and motioned me to walk past, not moving an inch. I squeezed myself between his towering body and the hard doorframe, my ass brushing the front of his slacks, sending my dirty mind into a frenzy.

“This space is cramped. No wonder people can’t wait to get the hell out of here for an early release,” Jett whispered.

My gaze flew up to meet his. His poker face was still in place, but his eyes seemed to poke fun at me.

“I like cramped places,” I muttered through gritted teeth, and headed down the corridor into what I hoped was the right direction.

“Shame,” Jett whispered behind me.

Trying my hardest to ignore my acute awareness of him, I inhaled a sharp breath and held it as I slowly counted to five. It was my way to keep my calm in the face of a storm, only this storm was raging right inside my panties.

“Next door to your right,” Jett said.

Even without his instructions, I would have been able to distinguish his office from his co-workers because it was the only one boasting blinds that were half-drawn.

Amazed by the design, I stepped into the large room and stopped to admire his workspace. His office resembled the one in his house in Bellagio, minus the mountain views, expensive art, and personal touch. A polished wood desk and swivel chair were set up in front of the window overlooking New York’s skyscrapers. To my right was a huge sofa in chocolate brown leather and a glass table. To my left was a closed door that blended in seamlessly with the light gray wall. Two large palm trees and a minibar gave the impression of a laid-back attitude which, given Jett’s reputation, couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“You don’t work here very often, do you?” I turned to face Jett and instantly regretted it. My statement sounded like he didn’t work at all. The same thought probably crossed his mind, and his green eyes immediately darkened. An instant later, it was gone and his lips stretched into a hint of a smile.

“What gives me away?”

Swallowing past the sudden need in my throat, I pointed around me. “The barely used couch. The plants someone probably picked up at Plantworks. The fact that there’s barely anything on your desk.”

“Good observation skills, Ms. Stewart. I’m impressed.”

His flattery shouldn’t have had the effect it had on me, and yet I found myself grinning, pleased like punch that Jett Mayfield thought I had good observation skills. “You should see what other skills I have in store,” I purred, not quite sure where I was heading with this.

His brow quirked up, and an amused glint appeared in his eyes. “I was planning to…right after discussing new developments in the Lucazzone case. Now that you’re mentioning it, checking your skills is a priority indeed.”

Ever so slowly, he closed the blinds and locked the door, sending my insides into a raging storm. A delicious shiver rocked my body. As our eyes connected, a heated ache began to throb between my legs.

Sweet mercy. He wouldn’t do it here, would he?

With measured steps he inched closer, pushing me against the hard edge of his desk. I fought for breath, suddenly panting even though he hadn’t even touched me yet.

“We’re at work,” was the lame excuse my mind came up with.

“So?”

My pulse spiked. I brushed my hair off my face, outraged. “People could hear us.”

“I guess we’ll have to be quiet.” Jett’s fingers trailed down my shirt to my skirt and he began to pull it up in slow motion, sending my imagination into overdrive. His hot lips moved to the soft patch of skin beneath my ear and he began to nibble gently. His deep moans resembled the soft moans suddenly escaping my mouth.

My breath hitched in my throat as his hands cupped my ass and lifted me onto the desk. His strong thighs wedged between my legs. As he started to kiss my shoulders, the bulge in his slacks began to rub deliciously against my sensitive lust bud.

“Jett,” I whispered. My fingers clawed at his shoulders as I pondered whether to push him away or draw him closer so he could do all the unspeakable things his eager hands promised to do.