Chapter 20: Chapter 20

MASON

I was standing there, arms crossed in a defensive stance, my eyes locked on the strange sea creature swimming leisurely in its glassy prison. The aquarium was a tiny underwater universe, filled with vibrant pink and purple pebbles, towering rocks that seemed out of place, and a collection of tacky decorations I was sure Penelope had chosen herself.

A sense of dread washed over me. This creature would eventually die, leaving a path of destruction behind. Penelope’s heart would surely break, and I’d be left with the mess.

Jamie, with her endless optimism, had missed this crucial detail during her pet store adventure. Her arm wrapped around me from behind, her hand moving in a soothing rhythm across my stomach and chest.

“Are you upset about the turtle?” she asked, her voice soft and melodic, tinged with worry.

I turned to look at her, captivated by her natural beauty. Without any makeup to mask her glow, her face was a canvas of smooth, flawless skin. Her eyes, a mesmerizing mix of dark and hazel, always managed to draw me in.

And her lips, full and pink, were a temptation I couldn’t resist. How could I possibly be upset with such a vision of perfection?

I gently pushed her hair back from her face, our eyes meeting. “I’m not upset,” I replied. “I just didn’t want Penelope to be upset when the thing dies.”

“It’s not a thing, Daddy,” Penelope corrected, her small body vibrating with excitement as she joined us, her eyes glued to the aquarium. “He’s a turtle…and his name is Fred.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Fred?” I questioned. I turned to Jamie for an explanation.

She shrugged with a playful smile.

“Why Fred?”

Penelope’s tiny shoulders shrugged in response, her attention completely on the turtle. “I like the name Fred,” she stated simply, her voice filled with childlike wonder.

“I like the name Fred, I think it suits him,” Jamie added, a mischievous glint in her eye as she tried to suppress a smirk.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep a straight face. “A turtle named Fred. It has a nice ring to it,” I replied.

“And turtles live for a very long time. The man at the pet store told me so.” Penelope walked past us again, her tiny feet padding softly on the floor.

A wide smile spread across her face as she headed toward the living room, her laughter echoing through the house. Well, that settled that!

“Fred?” I repeated, disbelief coloring my voice. “I expected Leonardo, or Donatello…but not Fred.”

Jamie laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Unless you watched it with her, I don’t think Penelope knows what The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are. I grew up with Jake. It was on repeat in my house when I was young.”

Jamie moved slowly toward the coffee machine, her movements measured and careful as she leaned on her walking stick for support.

I watched as she gathered all the necessary ingredients—the coffee grounds, the oat milk, and the syrup. She had a specific way she liked her coffee, cold and icy, served in a tall glass.

I found myself watching her every move, intrigued by the subtle changes that had occurred since the accident. Once, she had developed a sudden love for orange chocolate, a random purchase that turned into an obsession.

Now, the mere mention of it made her gag. I leaned against the cool granite of the island countertop, my arms crossed over my chest. “What’s on your agenda today?” I asked.

Jamie took a sip of her coffee, the condensation from the glass beading on her hand. “Nothing important…just physio with Adam. He should be here soon.”

A familiar twinge of jealousy shot through me as I took in her appearance, now knowing that she would have company. The yoga pants, in particular, were a silent source of frustration.

Their tight fit, especially around her ass, was a visual assault on my senses. I forced myself to look away, focusing on the coffee machine instead.

It was a constant struggle to suppress these possessive urges, to remind myself that I was no longer the man I once was. The man who felt the need to control every aspect of Jamie’s life.

The man who couldn’t stand the thought of another man’s eyes on her. The truth was, I was still wrestling with jealousy. It was a constant, nagging feeling that I couldn’t shake off, no matter how hard I tried.

“I think we should do something later,” I suggested softly. I moved closer to her, the space between us disappearing.

My hands found their way to her hips, the heat of her skin igniting a spark within me. Jamie’s eyes, dark and mysterious, locked onto mine.

A silent understanding passed between us. She set her coffee down and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me in. Her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner, maybe. I could take you somewhere nice,” I replied, my voice still soft. My hand moved to her back, tracing the curve of her spine before sliding lower.

My fingers brushed the waistband of her yoga pants, and I felt her body tense in anticipation.

“Maybe Penelope could spend the night with my dad. He’s been asking to see her,” I suggested quietly.

I could feel the heat radiating from her, a warmth that was both intoxicating and arousing. Jamie leaned into me, her lips brushing against mine in a soft, teasing kiss.

“Sounds like a plan.” The kiss deepened. My tongue tentatively explored her mouth. The scent of coffee and her coconut shampoo filled my senses, creating an intoxicating blend.

Her body pressed against mine, her hands flat against my chest. My cock twitched in my pants. ~Fuck! How does she always do this to me? Every time we’re close, I want to throw her down and fuck her hard and fast. Just like old times.~

Her kiss was a clear indication that she wanted that too. Jamie pulled away from me with a soft sigh as the intercom buzzed, cutting through the intimate atmosphere.

“That’s probably Adam,” she murmured, her voice still thick with desire. A wave of disappointment washed over me as I reluctantly pulled away.

I walked toward the front door, my movements a stark contrast to the heated moment we’d just shared. As I adjusted the bulge in my pants, a flicker of annoyance sparked within me.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the intercom button. “Yeah?” I responded flatly.

“Mr. Knight, the physiotherapist is here for Miss Jamie,” Vince announced.

“Let him in,” I replied. I turned away from the door and headed back into the kitchen. Jamie had her back to me as she reached into the upper cabinet.

My eyes were drawn to the enticing curve of her ass, tight in her yoga pants, and a surge of desire coursed through me. I wanted nothing more than to touch her, to have her ass bare in my face so I could taste her.

Jamie turned around, grinning. “So I was thinking,” she began, her voice playful.

A pang of apprehension shot through me. ~I know that look. She’s about to suggest something that will inevitably lead to a compromise on my part.~

“We should throw a dinner party,” she continued, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

~A dinner party?~ The very words were like a punch to the gut.

“A dinner party?” I echoed, trying to hide my displeasure behind a mask of disbelief.

“Don’t sound too shocked,” Jamie retorted. “I think it will be fun. I don’t know what’s going on in everyone’s lives. It will be nice to catch up over dinner. And I think this will be good for my recovery.”

Her voice softened as she explained her reasoning, and I could see the genuine hope in her eyes.

“Maybe something will click for me.”

Dinner parties were my personal hell. The forced conversations, the uncomfortable silences, the endless stream of small talk—it was all a chore to me.

The only redeeming factor was the alcohol, but even that had lost its appeal. I opened my mouth to voice my objection, but the look of disappointment that flicked across Jamie’s face stopped me.

I knew that I was being selfish. She was trying to be social, to reconnect with people, and to aid her recovery. After all, what was a little discomfort compared to her happiness?

***

My office was a tomb of silence, broken only by the relentless ticking of the clock and the rhythmic tapping of my keyboard. Days had blurred into a monotonous cycle of spreadsheets, emails, and conference calls.

My eyes, bloodshot and heavy, scanned the computer screen with detached intensity. Ever since we returned from Napa, I’d been trying to catch up.

Our blissful months away had left a gaping hole in my professional life. The burden of neglected responsibilities was now pressing down on me.

Eoin, my competent but less aggressive cousin, had done a commendable job holding down the fort. However, the company thrived on a unique brand of ruthlessness and ambition that only I could offer.

His management style was steady and reliable, but it lacked the predatory instinct that had catapulted the company to its current success over the past two years.

A sharp knock echoed through the office, followed by the familiar sound of the mahogany doors swinging open. Eoin walked in, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his tie hanging loose around his neck.

His appearance told me it was already past five. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

I kept my eyes glued to the computer screen, silently acknowledging his statement. “I’m catching up after our time away,” I responded.

Eoin sank into the leather chair across my desk, his face a blend of worry and annoyance.

“Have you thought about hiring a new assistant? There’s a woman practically begging for the job,” he joked.

A spark of irritation ignited within me. “Why should that matter to me?”

We had advertised the assistant position months ago when my previous assistant had to take extended leave to care for her ailing husband. Out of respect for her situation, I had been reluctant to fill the position, hoping she would eventually return.

But it was becoming increasingly clear that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have someone pleasant to look at around here,” Eoin continued, his gaze drifting toward the door as if picturing someone.

“I’m just saying, for the single guys here. We’ve been managing, but we clearly need help with scheduling.”

“You handle the hiring,” I said, eager to change the subject. “I have more pressing matters to deal with.”

The sooner he stopped talking about administrative tasks, the better.

Eoin nodded, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “All right, I’ll take care of it,” he agreed, sounding relieved to be given the task.

He paused before adding, “It was good to see Jamie last night. She’s walking again. I didn’t expect that.”

I gave a brief nod. “She’s making progress,” I replied, my voice flat. I leaned back in my chair, taking a break from the harsh glare of the computer screen. “We’re hosting a dinner party next week. Jamie asked me to extend an invitation.”

Eoin looked surprised. “I thought you hated dinner parties?”

I let out a tired sigh. “I’d rather endure the social discomfort than disappoint her. She doesn’t ask for much, and this is the least I can do.”

“You’re a better man than I am, cousin,” Eoin said with a smirk. “Tell Jamie I’ll be there.”

He stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Once Eoin was gone, I turned my attention back to the relentless glow of the computer screen, determined to get at least another hour of work done before calling it a day.

But as usual, distractions crept in. When I finally looked at the clock, it was almost nine. The dinner! Shit!!

Cursing, I grabbed my phone and dialed Jamie’s number. My hope that she would answer quickly turned to dread when the call went to voicemail.

She wasn’t picking up, which probably meant she was too angry to talk. I quickly gathered my things and left the office.

The house was eerily quiet as I walked through the kitchen toward the living room. It wasn’t unusual with Penelope away, but I had expected Jamie to be waiting to give me a grilling.

The entire drive home, I had been mentally preparing the perfect apology. I had promised her a date, stood her up, and then failed to answer her calls.

Diamonds might work on some women, but I knew Jamie. A sincere gesture would be far more effective.

I walked into the living room. The soft light from the TV cast a glow on Jamie’s silhouette on the couch. A romantic flick was playing, her go-to genre.

My eyes landed on her, and a wave of guilt washed over me. She was dressed in a striking black tuxedo dress with long sleeves, the hem ending just above her knees.

The dress accentuated her curves in a way that made me catch my breath. I knelt down next to her, gently sweeping her hair away from her face.

“Jamie… I’m back,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

A faint moan slipped from her lips as she stirred, her hands instinctively reaching for my neck. In a sudden burst of passion, she drew me in, her lips seizing mine in a commanding kiss, her tongue engaging with mine in a familiar, intoxicating rhythm.

As I hovered over Jamie, my hand naturally moved from her hip, following the contour of her waist before settling on the enticing curve of her breast.

“Mmm,” she moaned.

The soft material of her dress gave way under my touch as I unfastened each pearl button. A gentle fragrance of jasmine and vanilla rose up, a subtle perfume she had worn tonight just for me.

With each button undone, a thrill ran through me, anticipation building like a brewing storm. At last, the dress fell open, revealing a work of art in lace and satin lingerie.

My body reacted, a hard longing forming in my lower abdomen. Her breasts were full and enticing, their peaks tipped with desire.

I lowered my head, my lips lightly grazing her skin before I took a full, eager mouthful. Her taste, sweet and salty, was a potent mix that sent a surge of pleasure through me.

Her hands found their way into my hair, drawing me closer as she arched into my touch. Our lips met again, a desperate, ravenous kiss that promised more than words could ever express.