Beautiful Distraction (40 page)

I don’t know how we ended up in his bed. It happened so
quickly that my haunted mind didn’t even register it. The sun was shining
through the tall bay window, and my fingers were buried in Jett’s hair, pulling
him on top of me as my mouth tugged at his lips with an urgency I had never
felt before.

My tongue thrust between his lips and my fingers began to
unbutton his shirt to find the hot skin beneath. His muscles were hard and
tense, just like the throbbing sensation between my legs.

“Brooke.” His whisper was an unspoken question.

“It’s fine.” As though to prove my point, my right hand
clasped around his neck and pulled him down harder, closing the space left
between us.

“Wait.” He pulled away slightly, his eyes burning with need.
“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of your state.”

He wasn’t a bad guy, I could feel it in my heart. Maybe it
was the reason I had opened up to him about my past; why I wanted to give him
everything I had, my body and mind.

“I told you, I’m fine,” I said. “This is what I need right
now. Will you give it to me?”

Our eyes collided and for a moment Jett was all I could see
and feel. His fingers moved to trace the contours of my lips, leaving a
tingling sensation behind.

“I wish I could ease your pain forever, Brooke,” he
whispered.

Yeah, I wished that, too.

My eyes swelled up with moisture. I tried to turn my head to
hide my unshed tears but his hand clasped my chin, holding my gaze transfixed
on his. Ever so gently he lowered his lips and kissed the corners of my eyes,
then moved to my cheeks, then to my lips. Somehow his sensual and tender touch
was more erotic than the passion-fuelled kiss we had just shared. His
surprising gentleness stoked my arousal to a fevered pitch. I wanted him, and I
wasn’t afraid to take it.

My legs wrapped around his hips and I pulled him down until
his weight crushed me, almost knocking the breath out of my lungs. His stubble
grated my skin as I trailed my lips along his jawline.

“Fuck me, Jett.”

I had never spoken this demand to anyone in my life. It made
my cheeks blush with shame, and my nipples throb with anticipation.
But I didn’t care. The pain inside me had to be stilled
somehow. If only for a short while.

“I’ve never wanted anything more,” he groaned against my
mouth. A moment later his lips found mine in a tortuously slow kiss. He sat up
and lifted me onto his lap to remove my shirt followed by my bra. I shrugged
out of my jeans and then helped him remove my panties. His fingers lingered
between my thighs, rubbing gently between my folds.

“I like it when you’re so wet.” His electric eyes mirrored
the desire in his voice.

He didn’t just make me wet; he made me ache for his touch.
But today, I wanted to touch him back and make him feel all the sweet things he
did to me.

“Take off your jeans,” I whispered, watching him as he
followed my command.

Our eyes remained locked as my fingertips grazed the hard
ridges of his abdomen and moved to the waistband of his shorts. Beneath them,
he was already hard, the contours of his erection clearly visible under the
thin material. I pulled them down his hips and watched his impressive erection
jerk out. He looked even bigger in broad daylight, the slick crown engorged,
ready to take me to pleasure heaven. I only needed to ask.

I ran my fingertips against his swollen shaft and soaked in
his deep moan.

“Brooke.” He moistened his luscious lips, and his eyes
followed my every move, watching me with such intensity it sent jolts of fire
through my sex.

I wanted to lick each droplet from his slick skin. Ever so
slowly I held him with both hands and I lowered my mouth onto the thick head,
sucking it deep between my lips. He quaked inside my mouth and a sexy rumble
escaped his throat.

“Oh, fuck.” His voice sounded just as choked between his
ragged breaths, and for once I felt I was in control with no need to hide my
desire.

“I want to know what you taste like,” I whispered, repeating
Jett’s words when he went down and dirty at the lake.

Releasing him from between my lips, I licked the slit and
sucked him back inside, my tongue darting over the broad head in a slow rhythm.
He rasped my name once, then again. The sound of his voice turned me on to such
an extent, I wanted to throw him onto his back and straddle him, drive his hard
flesh into me and demand the climax I felt building within us both.

Not yet.

I wasn’t nearly finished with him. Still gazing up at Jett,
I ignored my own needs as I bathed in his lust. With a desperate groan, he
pulled away, putting a few inches between us. His erection jerked in my hands.
His eyes closed, as a deep shudder rocked his abdomen.

“What are you doing to me?” His voice stroked my senses like
silk. He was close; I could see it in his clouded gaze and the way his ragged
breath rocked his chest. My hands reached out for him, so I could finish what I
had started. He groaned with desire but didn’t protest as I put him back
between my lips, sliding my tongue down his length.

“Do you want me to make you come, Jett?”

His breath hissed out between clenched teeth, and his eyes
darkened with desire. “Only if you want to.” No pressure, no demands. I liked
that about him. It showed that he wasn’t greedy; he liked to give as much as he
liked to get.

“I want to,” I whispered, wondering where this confident
vixen had been hiding all her life.

Slow or quick?

I bit my lower lip wickedly, wondering whether to tease him
mercilessly so he’d never forget me, or give him a hard but fulfilling release
he’d never forget either.

In the end I knew what I had to do.

Smiling, I lowered my wet lips onto the swollen tip and
sucked it into my mouth slow and deep.

“That’s good, baby. Just like that.”

His deep groans and words of encouragement spurred me on.
His fingers tangled in my hair, but he didn’t push. He let me do as I pleased.

“You’re driving me crazy, Brooke.” His whisper turned into a
guttural rasp. Circling the base of his thickening shaft, my fingers worked up
and down, slowly, then faster, until I felt the tell-tale tremble of his
imminent release. I stopped and pressed my tongue against his slick slit,
forcing him to a halt. His grip in my hair tightened and his hips rocked
forward with their unspoken plead for more. I could feel his racing pulse
beneath my fingers, could taste just how close he was in the salty tang of his
moisture. The knowledge that I did this to him left me hot and flustered. The
sounds and flavors of his arousal excited me so much, my own moisture began to
slick my entrance, readying me for his touch.

In our moment of intimacy, I not only owned his lust and
pleasure, he was mine.

Tightening my grip around him, I began to suck him deep into
my mouth. He rewarded me with another groan, this one louder and more
demanding.

Close. So close.

“Brooke.” The muscles of Jett’s rock hard torso tightened
and he thrust forward. The big crown jerked and hot moisture surged within my
mouth. I kept him perched between my lips until the waves of climax subsided
and Jett slumped down next to me, pulling me to his damp chest, one leg resting
between my thighs.

He was spent; he had to be because I had given it my all,
exhausting every bit of energy. My body snuggled against his hard muscles as
Jett trailed his fingers up and down my back. Silence spread around us like a
blanket, and I was almost lulled into a morning nap when I felt his lips on my
face.

My gaze flew up to take in the wicked smile on his gorgeous
face, and I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you senseless,” Jett said, “tease you the
way you teased me, and make you come the way no one’s ever made you come
before.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I blushed hard and fast.
“I see you’ve never heard of the magic of metaphors?” I pretended to slap his
arm, mortified, but in secret I loved his dirty talk.

“Metaphors and flowery language are for those who don’t know
how to give their women some good ol’ fucking.” His shaft jerked to life
against my thigh. He was up for it. Again.

Holy cow.

Where did he get all this energy from? I watched his hand
move between our bodies to touch himself—once, twice, hardening,
preparing—until he grew so big I doubted my small body could possibly
accommodate him.

“Ready?” His eyes shimmered with humor and something else.

Hell no, I wasn’t.

“Jett.”

His erection rocked against the entrance of my body and in
spite of my reservations, I moaned with anticipation. His fingers parted my
private lips and spread the moisture pouring from within me.

“So wet and yet so tight,” he murmured, pushing a long
finger deep inside of me, followed by another. I panted as his fingers moved in
and out in slow cadence, filling me enough to ignite a blaze, but not enough to
prepare me for his huge erection. One more thrust and then he pulled out his
fingers, replacing them with something much bigger, guiding himself inside my
tunnel, impaling and stretching me, filling me up in a single hot movement.

I cried out in surprise as a rush of burning pleasure shot
through me. My nerve-laden tissues parted around him as my sex struggled to
accommodate the invasion. Burying my nails into the rippling muscles of his
chest, I was unsure whether to pull him toward me or push him away. Hot waves
of pleasure rolled over me, bringing the sweet promise of release…if only I could
stand his sweet torture long enough.

Jett dipped his tongue into my mouth and began to move, his
tongue mirroring the fast movement of his hips. Pushing up on his elbows, his
palms settled around my breasts. His thumbs began to pinch my hardening nipples,
tugging and teasing, and his hard flesh plunged deep inside me. I arched my
back to welcome his thrusts and bit my bottom lip hard, struggling to keep from
moaning.

“Come for me, Brooke,” Jett whispered. His thumb found the
sensitive nub of my clitoris and began to massage it in slow, circular motions.
I cried out at the quivering sensations meeting with the currents of fire his
thrusts sent through my sex. My body quivered beneath him as my vision blocked
out everything but his electrifying eyes transfixed on me, gazing into my soul.

“Jett.” My lips released his name in a long whimper. With
each thrust and caress, the pulsing sensation between my legs intensified until
I thought I’d pass out from the sheer pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” Jett whispered, cupping my buttocks and
pushing himself inside me just a bit deeper. It couldn’t be more than an inch
but it was enough to push me over the edge. A strong tremor shot through my
abdomen, bringing with it wave after wave of delicious release. Grinding my hips
into his, I clenched my muscles around him, struggling to ride the roller
coaster of lust just a little bit longer. Jett’s groan joined my cry, and his
hot seed spilled deep inside me, filling me with a new sensation.

Eventually, he pulled out of me and rolled to the side,
drawing me into his arms like he had before, his lips whispering against my
damp hair.

Wow. Just double wow. It was the most amazing sex I ever
had.

“Are you okay?”

Cheeks burning, I nodded.

“This was insane. You’re incredible,” he whispered. “You’ve
given me more than I ever envisioned anyone could.”

I had to agree I felt the same way. Even though it was just
sex, his words made me feel warm and woozy inside. My heart began to thump just
a little bit harder as his lips found mine and engaged them in a slow and
delicious kiss. As the tension of climax began to fade, we remained locked in
our embrace, trembling from the faint ripples of subsiding pleasure. With the
bright rays of sun warming our naked bodies, I fell asleep in Jett’s arms,
strangely laid-back about the array of emotions this man had started to evoke
in me. For the first time, I had surrendered my whole self to a man.

Jett and I spent another hour in bed, tangled in each other’s
embrace, while keeping our conversation light and mostly focused on his
company. What drew me away from him eventually was my stomach’s rumbling. Jett
had made me burn through my energy supplies, and now my body demanded food.

“Why don’t you get dressed while I check whether lunch is
ready?” Jett’s gaze burned down on me, and I could sense his hesitation at
leaving the sanctuary of our bedroom.

I smiled and got out of bed, walking leisurely to pick my
clothes off the floor. His heated gaze brushed my naked rear and sent shivers
of pleasure down my spine.

“Damn.”
Jett shook his head as
another smile lit up his face. If I had learned anything about my new boss it
was that he was a man of monosyllabic expressions. However, one single
non-descript word coming from him conveyed more flattery than I had heard in my
entire life.

I rolled my eyes. “Stop the buttering up. You had me
already.” I held up two fingers. “Twice.”

“I thought I might put in the legwork for tonight.” His grin
widened at my scowl. Truth be told, I didn’t need his compliments. I was ready
to drop my panties for him if he so much as smiled in my direction, meaning the
panty-dropping smile wasn’t a myth. I had finally found what Sylvie had been
going on about ever since the day we met. Too bad I couldn’t tell her about it.

Sylvie.

My brain briefly registered that I hadn’t called or texted
her last night, even though I had promised to. As much as I loved spending day
and night in Jett’s bed, there was a world outside those bedroom walls.
And forgetting about my best friend was definitely a
big, fat no-go.

I shrugged into my clothes and left Jett to take a shower,
ignoring the invitation to join him. If I took him up on the unspoken offer of
yet more fun, I knew we’d end up starved and, in my case, probably way behind
my work schedule. While booting up my laptop, I checked my cell phone. There
were five missed calls, two voice mails, and three text messages, all from one
person. Even though it might sound like a lot, coming from Sylvie, who was addicted
to her cell phone, anything under twenty calls and ten text messages wasn’t
urgent.

As much as I loved Sylvie, she could be a real pain.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, I texted to remind her I
couldn’t have private conservations during working hours and promised to write
an uber long email, then went about checking Jett’s business correspondence
when my cell rang.

I knew it was Sylvie before I even glanced at the screen.
Sitting on my bed, I pressed the response button.

“What the heck, Brooke,” her voice greeted me. “Italy’s only
across the big pond, but the way you keep ignoring me, it might as well be
situated on the moon and you have no reception.” I could hear the sulk in her
voice. Sylvie in a disgruntled state was never good. She could go on and on for
hours.

“I’m so sorry. This job’s been extremely demanding
and—” I trailed off, letting her fill in the gaps. It was a harmless,
white lie; Jett came with the job and he
had
been demanding a lot of my time and energy. Not that I complained.

“Mayfield has you working around the clock?” Her tone gave
me a preview of the sarcasm about to erupt. “Seriously, Brooke, if I didn’t
know any better I’d bet my designer wardrobe on you fucking the boss.”

I laughed nervously. “You’re hilarious.” My tone came out
all wrong, because a moment later Sylvie gasped and the line went silent. I
held my breath as my mind tried to come up with
something—anything—to steer her away from her spot-on guess. Once
she grew suspicious, she was like a hound dog that wouldn’t back off from a hot
trail. Come to think of it, she was worse.

“Okay, that was about the most laughable thing you’ve ever
said.” My tongue tripped over itself to assure Sylvie that nothing was going
on. Unfortunately, Sylvie had an uncanny ability to read between the lines.

“What does he look like?”

“Who?” I knew playing dumb wouldn’t be of much help.

“Mayfield.”

“Old.”

Sylvie clicked her tongue. The sound reverberated down the
line right into my ear, making me cringe. “Please! Age never stopped anyone.
Guys are like ripe wine: the older they grow, the more attention they get.”

I forced a chuckle out of my throat, like I knew what she
was talking about. Truth was, I didn’t since I could count all the guys I ever
slept with on the fingers of one hand, and they sure hadn’t been the sugar
daddy type.

“So,” Sylvie continued. “You’re doing the dirty with the
boss, and I don’t like it.”

“What? No.”

“Brooke. I know you better than you know the back of your
hand.”

She didn’t, or so I liked to believe. I sighed into the
line. If I couldn’t convince her, the best way to get her off my back was to
cut the call short. “I’m sorry about not calling or texting. I’m just tired.”
True. “And this job’s been weird so far.” Also true. “I’ll make it up to you as
soon as I get home next week.” I had no doubt Sylvie would bully me into making
that part true as well. “Please, can we just leave it at that?”

It was the second time I asked this question in twenty-four
hours. Just like Jett, Sylvie had no idea when to back off.

“No.”

“You told me to have fun.”

“Yeah, but not thousands of miles away where I couldn’t kick
the guy’s ass if he tried to hurt you.”

I smiled at the picture Sylvie’s words conjured before my
eyes. As a Pilates goddess with muscles of steel, she sure as hell could do
some major damage. Too bad she didn’t use all that power on Ryan.

“Look,” Sylvie continued, “I’m worried about you being all
alone in a different country with some guy you don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Because—” she blew out her breath, pausing
“—you’re not like me. You have feelings and standards and you deserve
more than that. Promise you’ll stay safe and tell me everything when you get
back?”

I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“One last word of advice, guys like him and Ryan are
trouble. Good looks and successful careers are a dangerous combination.”

Trouble—wasn’t that the word I used upon meeting Jett
for the first time? I frowned. “Thanks.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound too happy to drop the subject, but
it was good enough for me. The air was clear. I had managed to dodge a bullet
and buy myself a few more days before I’d be Sylvie-interrogated. “Have you
found out who sent the Manila envelope still cluttering our expensive coffee
table in the hall?” she asked, finally changing the subject. “I’m really scared
to sleep with that thing inside the house.
It
looks like something from
Law & Order
that’s ready to blow up.”

I rolled my eyes, grateful she couldn’t see it. “It’s only a
letter, for crying out loud. Just open it if it bothers you so much.”

“Can’t you send someone over to do it, like your mother?
Or—” She paused and I could almost hear the wheels of her brain working
away. The sad thing about Sylvie was that she actually meant every word. “I
guess I could ask Ryan. Since he’s dating some double DDs, he’s as good as dead
to me.”

I didn’t want to mention that guys like him, meaning
ridiculously rich and manipulative, always ended up going for plastic, be it
bigger breasts or shiny new credit cards. But why state the obvious? Sylvie
needed to heal, and expressing my disdain would only make her more obsessed
with a jerk unworthy of her obsession.

“I’ll be back next week,” I said. “Until then, just leave it
on my desk and forget about it. I bet it’s not even important.”

“It looks important.”

Then open the darn thing, I felt like yelling. “Leave it in
my room, and I’ll take care of it when I get back home.”

“And what about the foreign guy who keeps calling? He
doesn’t want to believe you’re not around, and it gives me the creeps.”

“I’ll be back
next
week
,” I repeated slowly, emphasizing the last two words.

A sulky pause, then, “Fine. It really sucks without you.
Promise me you’ll never get hitched and have kids. Or if you do, we’ll live
next door from each other so I can visit any time.”

“Sounds great.” Living next door to each other was always our
dream. However, if we ever ended up married, I doubted my husband would be so
keen on the best friend’s constant presence breathing down his neck.

“I’ll think about it.” We chatted for a few more minutes,
mostly focusing on Sylvie’s nightly escapades, before I hung up with the
promise to call again as soon as I could.

Clutching my cell phone to my chest, it felt surreal to sit
in a stranger’s room thousands of miles away from home, keeping secrets from my
best friend. Sylvie and I had always told each other the truth, even if said
truth hurt the other’s feelings. The contract clearly stated that I wasn’t to
tell anyone about the agreement, but Jett had assured me the rules could be
changed. So why did I not ask him to change this particular one?

Because you’re scared
she’ll tell it like it is, and you know it won’t be pretty.

Had I fallen for my very own Ryan? Was I repeating Sylvie’s
mistake? It was just a thought that briefly crossed my mind, and yet I couldn’t
quite dismiss it. I long established that Jett wasn’t a liar like Ryan. He
never pretended to want more than a physical relationship, to which I had
agreed. But somehow my mind didn’t want to acknowledge that major difference
between Jett and Ryan.

I sighed and forced my ugly thoughts to the back of my mind.
Sylvie would find out about my agreement soon enough, upon which I’d deal with
her candid opinion and metaphorical kick in the backside. Right now I enjoyed
the present, doing whatever I felt like doing, without my best friend telling
me how stupid I was for jumping into bed with my boss. Had she not been the one
telling me to have fun in the first place? Would I have had the guts to do it
if she didn’t advise me to go wild and lose all inhibitions? Probably not, but
for once I was happy to have listened. A week with Jett and I felt more alive
than I had in ages. However, I wasn’t so naïve to believe this trip would go on
forever. It was just sex and a bit of fun. Sooner or later, one of us would
grow bored and move on. No matter what happened, I knew I wouldn’t go back to
the old, dreary, safe me. I wouldn’t go back to being
conventional
. At least not any time soon. And for that I was
thankful to both Sylvie and Jett.

“Brooke, are you coming? I’m missing you already.” Jett’s
sexy voice pulled me back to reality.

“Give me five minutes.” I smiled at his choice of words. I
loved the way he said my name because it made me feel special. Of course his
words meant nothing because he couldn’t possibly miss me after only twenty
minutes. Shrugging out of my clothes, I jumped into the shower, my mind already
filling with hundreds of thoughts of all the things I wanted to do to him
before the week was over.

***

After a light lunch that consisted of grilled chicken fillets
with salad, Jett headed for his private office to catch up on his workload,
leaving me with the instructions not to bother him with any calls unless they
were from his brother or father. His voice bore an urgency that didn’t go
unnoticed, and I wondered whether he had troubles I didn’t know about, maybe a
sick relative or family drama. In the end I didn’t ask. I figured that even
though I had spilled out most of my secrets, he had shown no disposition to
want to do the same. Maybe he needed more time to confide in me.

My lips were still tingling from his heated goodbye kiss
when I returned to my room to grab my laptop and then sat down at my desk. Even
though Jett had cleared his schedule for the week, countless messages cluttered
his email inbox and voicemail. I went through each one of them, registering
names and queries. The urgent ones received an immediate answer with the
assurance Jett would get back to them as soon as he could. Two hours later, the
business correspondence had been dealt with, and I was free to accustom myself
with the company’s financial reports and major property accounts.

Mayfield Properties was a huge company with hundreds of
millions in turnover and as such had a dozen board directors, all pocketing
their fair share of profits. At the top of the ladder were Robert and Jonathan
Mayfield, father and son respectively, followed by Jett, who at thirty-one was
the youngest board member and probably the only one engaging in direct sales
and property acquisition. Because of his young age, I had thought he was gifted
his place in the company by his father, until I glimpsed the sales and profits
Jett had made in the last year alone.

Holy cow.

The guy knew how to make money, and a lot of it. I almost
choked on my breath as I counted all the zeros on the spreadsheets: one hundred
million worth of properties, most of them spread across the United States, with
some sprinkled throughout Europe. There was a systematic approach to it. His
clients were exclusively business moguls and celebrities who came to him based
on recommendations. They either had a particular estate in mind or very
specific ideas of what they wanted, and it was Jett’s job to make it happen. He
found the right estate, groomed the owner by paying for all-inclusive trips to
the most luxurious places I only knew from tabloids and television
documentaries about the lives of the rich and famous, and then somehow
persuaded them to sell at a price convenient to his clients. Nothing new about
that approach, only that Jett seemed extremely good at what he did, and with
very little college education. I was impressed, not to mention a bit
star-struck, at all the well-known names that seemed to pop up in his files.