7
| JASON |
FRIDAY
(Time: Way too early for morning wood.)
She’s staring at my dick again.
And as much as I fight it—I really do—I find my cock getting hard enough to hammer nails.
I should tell her to cut it out.
But I don’t.
For some totally screwy reason, I’m not thinking about maintaining a professional distance right now. No, I’m thinking about how I miss the shocked expression on her face from the other day. How I miss the wonder, the curiosity she’d had while staring at my hard cock. And how I miss the feeling that I’m the only man to get her that flushed and flustered in a while.
Or ever.
Damn it. The possessive, downright primal gut clench I feel at that last possibility is the only thing that’s able to snap me out of it.
“So, are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or not, Summer?” I purposely make my tone harsher than usual.
“Are you going to fire me?” she blurts out, face full of dread.
I blink at her in confusion. “What?”
“I’m sorry I stared so long at your, um, package the other day. I swear, I won’t do it again.” A dark blush stains her cheeks. “I mean I promise after this last time just now.”
Well, shit, what does it say about me that I’m getting pissed over her vowing to never look at my hard-on again? That’s messed up, man. “Forget about it. It’s no big deal.”
“We both know that’s not true. You’re my boss. It was inappropriate. I basically sexually harassed you.” She looks down, shoulders heartbreakingly slumped. “I would understand if you don’t want to work with me anymore.”
So that’s what has her looking more worried than usual. “I’m not going to fire you over this, Summer.”
“Any other boss would. If any of your other workers did what I did…”
I bark out a laugh at that. “If any of my big, hulking construction workers came into my bathroom unannounced and stared at my junk, yeah, I probably would fire him.”
She looks close to tears as she scrambles quickly to her feet. “Thank you for the opportunity, Jason. I won’t ever forget it.”
My smile fades away. I jump out of my chair and snag her elbow to keep her from walking away. “I told you I’m not firing you, Summer.”
Her spine stiffens. “Because I’m not a big, hulking dude.”
One thing I’ve always found fascinating about Summer is that she truly, genuinely thinks she’s just one of the guys. Her first day working for me, she’d asked the men where they were all taking a whizz so she could go as well since the two portable toilets we had on site were both occupied. She was all set to do it, too, toilet paper roll in hand and everything.
I almost fired my entire crew when I heard they’d stood around and watched her get as far as unzipping her jeans before my main foreman intervened and practically threw her into his truck to drive her to a nearby gas station restroom.
According to him, she chewed him out something spectacular the entire time.
“I don’t like you thinking of me differently from the men,” she says plainly, arms crossed over her chest.
Well, tough shit. “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but I do think of you differently. Always have. Always will.”
She jerks back as if I’ve struck her.
Oh, hell, I know that look. If I’ve learned anything about Summer after all this time, I know that she’s not getting ready to crumble. She’s getting ready to—
“Field test! Tomorrow,” she growls, poking me in the sternum with an angry index finger, eyes sparking and downright livid. “Me against your best guy. Steel framing and wood framing. I’ll bet you one month’s pay that I’ll be faster, better, and use less materials!”
Good lord, the woman is too much. She’s fucking lucky I’m not ripping off her sexy little bottomless outfit and burying my face between her legs right now.
As she stands there with her mutinous little fists balled up at her sides, I study her big blue eyes and the slight sprinkle of freckles crossing her nose, both of which are growing more pronounced the longer I let her seethe. “Summer, trust me when I tell you that I wish I could see you as just one of the guys, that I could ignore how goddamn beautiful you are,” I grit out through my teeth. “But I can’t.”
Her lips part a fraction of an inch, in pure, unadulterated shock.
“I already know you’re better than my guys. If I’m ever down a man and I need someone of your caliber to fill in, believe me, I’m going to expect you to be out there with us. But none of that changes the fact that I’m fully aware that you’re a woman. A gorgeous woman I can’t stop thinking about no matter how hard I try.”
Face flushing pink, she sinks her teeth into her lower lip and gives me that cute, confused little smile—my favorite of all her facial expressions.
That’s all it takes to break me.
Before I know it, I’m wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her in close. Slowly though, so she can stop me if she wants to.
But instead of pulling away, she molds herself flush against me.
And I’m fucking lost.
How the hell she expects me to think of her as one of my men, I’ll never understand. She’s dainty, tiny compared to me. And she always smells good, even after hours of hard labor. I blame that fruity lotion she keeps in her desk. After I saw her smoothing it on her arms one day, all I could think about for the rest of the week was strawberries…or more specifically, strawberry sauce, and my licking it off the soft skin of her belly right there in the office trailer.
Fuck, I want her mouth on mine. Her full lips have been driving me to distraction since the day we met. But now that I’m feeling her hard little nipples pressed against me, I’m torn as to where I want to put my mouth first.
Any hope of her helping me with this tie-breaking decision is shot to hell when she takes her curious little hands and starts running them shyly across my torso.
That’s my cue to come to my damn senses.
I have to let her go.
Now. Right now.
But even as I tell myself it’s the right thing to do, my arms don’t listen. They don’t let her go. I don’t back off; I don’t unwind her from my grip; I don’t sever whatever this is keeping me connected to her.
Instead, I continue to hold her, staring into her wide, trusting blue eyes, wondering if I’d ever forgive myself if I threw away my self-imposed rules just this once.
What’s one night? I’ve spent a lifetime following rules, pushing boundaries but never crossing them. Who says I can’t break this one arbitrary rule?
My hand presses to her hip and I run it up to her ribs, loving the planes of her body. She’s so fucking beautiful. Sleek, gentle curves toned and tanned from all the manual labor our trade demands. Exotic, expressive eyes. And a lush mouth I could fantasize about for hours.
When she turns those eyes and that mouth up to me, I can’t help myself. I do the one thing I’ve been wanting to do since the first time I saw her in this sexy-ass shirt.
I undo a button.
Then another.
“Jason,” she breathes, and my cock jumps at the sound of my name crossing her lips for the first time. She’s never called me anything but boss or Mr. Steele until now.
If she does it again, I’ll be taking her right here on the goddamn living room rug.
Jesus Christ. This woman is going to destroy my sanity, my sense of right and wrong. Unless I do the smart thing and hit the brakes this instant.
But I don’t.
Instead, I spear my fingers through her sun-streaked hair, pulling her messy bun loose. The soft, silky waves tickle as they tumble over my hand to skim the top of her hip. I hadn’t realized her hair was so long. Or that letting it out of those sensible buns she always wears would release the scent of flowers. Summer flowers. Fitting.
And now, all I can think about is how it would feel to wrap those long, flower-scented, golden-brown strands around my fist as I coax her lips open with my thick, hard—
Fuuuck. How does this sweet, maddening little woman manage to get past every last one of my defenses without even trying?
If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop at all.
“You should go,” I somehow manage to mutter thickly, surprised at how fucking hard it is to utter the words.
I’d thought it’d eventually fade, this spark between us, this tension.
Evidently, I’d thought wrong.