Chapter 22

“I was thinking,” he says, clearing his throat and pulling his gaze away from my mouth with a long pause, as though it was hard to do, “The Caribbean…a yacht, for some unfinished business.” He looks away, he obviously wants to get to the point without another sexual interlude, and I blanch at him.

“In a day?” I laugh in disbelief, breaking into a smile at how absurd that is.

“Okay, so maybe for a week or three.” He grins back at me, his eyes so clear and alluring in that sparkling green. “I need to undo the memory of the last time we were there.” He kisses me tenderly again, my body heating under his expert mouth. His body shifts to fully pin me down, and he brings his groin to mine so snugly that she almost invites him in.

“I thought you just erased the past?” I smile and wiggle my hips to get him to reunite us down there.

“Okay, so maybe I just want to take my very serious girlfriend on vacation, a romantic time-out. I like saying that…‘girlfriend.’” He sounds it out slowly and breaks into an adorable grin, and I’m rewarded with a firm kiss planted on the mouth.

Jake seriously likes kissing.

“Don’t you work anymore, Mr. Carrero?” I give him the innocent coy look I’m getting good at, amused by him while so in love with him.

“Not much since I stupidly sent my PA away; I’ve been worse than useless at my job. She’s going to freak when I get her back in my office, and she sees the chaos she’s left in her wake.”

“Is she now?” I sigh at his admittance. “What about her stand-in? Was she no good?” I innocently ask, knowing well that Margo, my mentor, had been back at his side while he was searching for a replacement. Jake seems intent on twirling a strand of my hair now, softly tugging it across the pillow and flattening it out, fiddling. A telltale Carrero trait when he is uneasy in a topic of conversation, he fidgets like he needs a distraction. Who knew he could be this utterly cute?

“I think she probably hates me now. I’ve been a nightmare of a boss. She threatened to throw me from the sixty-fifth-floor window more than once. Told me to get my head out of my ass and get you back.” He grins again, only this time I catch that hint in his eye that he’s only half-joking, and he gives me another gentle kiss on my mouth like he can’t stop doing it.

I like kissing too.

“You were always a nightmare of a boss, grumpy ass, and very trying on my nerves.” I smirk. “You really missed me that much?” I wiggle an arm free and prod him in the shoulder with a finger. He brings out the playfulness in me, and I like it.

“You’ve no idea, bambina! I felt like I’d severed my own limbs,” he sighs. “When I saw you in the elevator that first time back in my building, it was the worst agony I’d ever felt. I wanted to say so much to you.” He presses his forehead to mine, our eyes meeting. Our conversation has taken another serious turn, and I forget about sex when reminded of how much that encounter hurt.

“All you said was my name. You barely looked my way,” I utter sadly, pulling the memory from somewhere dark and trying to shake it away.

“I couldn’t formulate any words; I definitely couldn’t look at you. I felt like I was back in high school, nervous as hell, dying to push you against that wall and kiss you until you surrendered to me. I could smell your perfume the second I walked in. I could feel you in there without looking at you. I couldn’t deny how much I was missing you, how good you looked, and it felt like shit.” His voice is raw as he recounts something that was just as painful for him. Tears catch in my throat because I felt the same way. I lean up and kiss him, letting my fingers trail across the perfect brows and down that sexy stubbled cheek as though to soothe us both.

“It felt that way for me too,” I breathe softly.

“I still didn’t know how you felt; it was the only thing holding me back. Kept telling myself I never had a chance with you. When I heard Rosalie tell Margo you were going to Europe, I thought I might explode. I couldn’t just let you go.” He looks tortured and lost in the memory.

“Jake, it was always you,” I whisper gently. “I was scared of how you felt but wanted you so much.” Being open with him is proving so much easier than I ever anticipated. The barriers between us are finally gone; from the second he told me he loved me, I let go. I let myself fall completely and trusted him fully.

“I didn’t see it, mio amata. So many times, I got close, but then your wall slammed back up,” he says quietly. “I figured you didn’t feel the way I did. That I was pushing you, and you had no choice. The night we had sex, I felt so confused after…I felt like you hadn’t even consented. I tried to think it through a million times, trying to remember if I had just railroaded you into it.” He frowns, his eyes darkening with emotion, and that hint of agony wounds me.

“I had wanted nothing else for so long,” I choke, holding back tears, “But I was so scared I would just be another conquest…a good time…that I’d lose you, my job, our friendship. I was terrified.” Tears blur my eyes, and I struggle with the lump forming in my throat. He leans up and brushes the hair away from my face, carefully tracing my mouth with his fingers.

“So many times, I wish I’d just told you how I felt; I wish I had just come out and said, ‘I love you, Emma.’ I’m in love with you,” he says, his voice strained with emotion, and my heart swells painfully. “If I had, we could have avoided so much heartache and craziness between us.” His gaze holds so much regret that I can’t bear it.

Jake really loves me as much as I love him.

Every time this realization hits me, it takes my breath away, and I want to pinch myself in case it’s a dream.

“I was going to tell you the morning you sent me away,” I sigh wistfully, a single tear pooling in my eye before escaping. He frowns and lifts his head so he can use his fingers to smooth it away as it trails down my cheek.

“Don’t tell me that; it makes me feel like shit knowing that.” He looks down at my throat and sighs heavily. “Really?” His eyes flick back up, full of questions.

“Yes, really. The whole time you were telling me that I had to go, I was fighting with myself to say it to you, but when you looked at me, you were so cold I knew I couldn’t. You didn’t want me.” Tears fall freely down my cheeks unleashed as he groans and presses his mouth to mine, kissing me thoroughly, removing the pain of the memory in one fell swoop before moving back to look at me again, his face fierce with raw emotion and so much turmoil.

“Emma, Tesoro, I was dying inside. I thought it was always going to be me on one side wanting you and you on the other trying to keep me away. I did what I thought was best to function and move on. I wanted you more than air. I needed you. I need you!” He kisses me again, trying to push away the sadness on my face, kissing with soft pecks to wipe away my tears and pain.

“Why did you send me the song on the dance floor then…after everything?” I break in inquisitively. We’ve never really talked openly about our feelings this way. We’ve always skirted the issues and never communicated, and I want it all now; I want every detail. I want to devour all the knowledge I can, to understand, to bask in his confessions, and hear him talk about things I always believed to be different that had kept us apart. I want to know what changed. Why then?

“The way you looked at me. I know you; I saw the same broken heart I’d seen in the mirror for weeks, that agony of wanting someone and thinking they’ve rejected you. For a fleeting second, I saw it. I knew I had to ask you, but I had no words, and I was scared to ask. When I watched you walk away, I thought about our songs, our last songs to each other, and the last song you sent. I’d dismissed it as missing my friendship at the time,” he exhales heavily.

“You listened to it right there?” I giggle, but he shakes his head.

“I realized I couldn’t because you were leaving. I panicked; I needed to stop you from going. I’d heard that song a million times on the radio that week, every time thinking of you. So I figured, what better way to ask how you felt? Take a chance, even if you rejected me.” His mouth brushes mine again softly, achingly seductive, as though he’s trying to erase it all with every touch.

“I’m glad you did,” I whisper as his kiss deepens and my body begins to unfurl. He pulls away, brushing his mouth against mine once more so delicately it tickles, making me smile. This, between us, it all feels so natural, so right, like we were always meant to be this way.

“Not as glad as I am! I practically ran after you when you replied. Okay, maybe I did kinda run. Felt like all my Christmases had come at once. I think I must have shoved at least five important clients out of the way,” he mutters against my mouth, both of us breaking into bigger smiles, our breaths so close it’s erotic. “You’re mine now…all of you. I get to touch and kiss you any which way I want. No restrictions. No holding myself back. Anytime I want. It feels like heaven.” He kisses me on the nose, cooling the heat between us a little. He’s trying not to escalate things sexually, and I’m a tad disappointed, but I know he wants more, more than sex, more than a casual fling. He wants forever.

“We don’t need to go away to have romantic time, Jake.” I nestle in his arms, moving to get comfy, resigned with ‘no sex’ right now, even if I don’t agree.

“Not this argument again. What is it with you and refusing my offers of vacations in the Caribbean?” He pins me down, an evil grin flitting across his face. “Don’t make me torture you into a ‘yes.’”

“It’s only torture if I don’t like it,” I reply with a mischievous grin and push my mouth into his. If he isn’t going to ignite this passion, I sure will. I slide my hands around his neck, bringing his mouth hard against mine, deepening the kiss, and bravely pushing my tongue against his. He groans and surrenders, his body instantly molding to mine fully, and I know he’s done for.