“It was the only thing I could think of to take your mind away from the anger I saw building.”
“It worked,” I barely said as my voice cracked. Her eyes glanced down to where my rock-hard dick was throbbing in my jeans.
She placed her hands on my chest and pushed back as she stood up. “I’m sorry I did that. I don’t think well when I’m under pressure and I acted unprofessionally.”
My head was spinning with what she just told me and how my body wanted more of her. She’s sorry she did that? She acted unprofessionally?
I took the cane in my hand and stood up. Paislie walked behind me in silence as we made our way back to the truck. When we got in, she started it and asked, “Where are we going?”
She acted as if nothing had happened between us, and it pissed me off that it bothered me so much.
“World Cup Café.”
The only thing spoken between us was the driving directions I gave her to get to the café.
Once we ordered, Paislie tried to make small talk, but all I kept hearing in my head was what she said.
“So, what do people do for fun in this town? My friend, Annie, is coming this weekend and wants to hang out.”
My head snapped up as I looked at her. “Bars. There’s a lot of bars. Barnett’s Pub or Crickets to name a few.”
She smiled and looked away.
After paying for the check, we made our way out to the truck. “You can head back to the ranch.”
The drive was pure fucking torture. I was still reeling over the way her body felt against mine, and on top of that, I kept replaying that damn kiss. I wanted to reach over and touch her. Anywhere, I just needed to feel her soft skin anyway I could get it. Her hands held the wheel like she had a death grip on it.
When we finally pulled up to the house, I tried like hell to get out of the truck before she came around to my side.
How could she crawl on top me like that and then act like nothing had happened? I was confused, in pain, and pissed off.
She placed her hand on my arm and I jerked it away as her eyes widened in surprise. “I’m fine.”
Standing frozen in her spot, she watched me as I made my way up the stairs and into the house, slamming the front door behind me.
I’d give anything to have a mindless fucking right about now and was half tempted to call Ashley and see if she was still hanging with that douchebag.
By the time I reached my bedroom, the pain was so bad in my leg, I was sweating. My cock was still throbbing and all I wanted was some kind of relief.
Pulling my phone out, I pulled up her number and sent her a text. If I was lucky, she’d be here within the hour and I could forget the way my body was feeling, both from the pain in my leg and from Paislie’s touch.
After hitting send, I closed my eyes and tried to forget everything.
I PACED BACK AND FORTH in my bedroom as I chewed on my thumbnail. “I can’t believe I did that.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached back for a pillow and buried my face and screamed into it. I knew he was getting angry and I should have just let him deal with his emotions, but I used it as an excuse to get closer to him. To feel his lips on mine.
Fucking hell. I practically begged him to kiss me while I rocked my body against his. Then I acted as if it never happened.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
I reached for my Kindle and pulled up a book I was reading. It was far from the romance books I usually read. This book was recommended by Elizabeth. The Christian-based book was supposed to help me find my true inner self. The only thing I wanted to find was how not to be attracted to Malcolm.
Two and a half hours had passed since we got back from Waco. I couldn’t take the silent treatment anymore. What we needed was to define the boundaries. Clearly, me jumping on top of the man paying me to help in his recovery was crossing a line.
I stood and dropped my Kindle onto the bed. “This is bullshit.”
Racing into the bathroom, I checked myself in the mirror and pulled my long dark hair up into a ponytail and set out to talk to Malcolm.
We were two grown adults who clearly were attracted to one another. We needed to figure out a way to keep that under control while I was here . . . working . . . for him.
As I made my way through the house, I knew he wouldn’t be upstairs. I checked the back porch, the front, the kitchen, game room and both living rooms. Malcolm was nowhere to be found.
I stared down the hallway that led to the master suite. I knew which door was his bedroom because it was damn near straight across from the personal gym we were in this morning, which was ten times better than the gym I belonged to at home.
Pulling in a deep cleansing breath, I headed down the hall. Checking the gym, it was empty. Turning, I passed a long table that had a beautiful sculpture on it, which I had admired this morning. They were in a small niche that was on the wall opposite Malcolm’s bedroom. Lifting my hand, I went to knock when I heard voices.
I held my breath as I leaned in closer. It was a female voice.
Did she just moan?
I slammed my hand over my mouth to keep from throwing up.