Chapter one

GRACE CHAMBERS

I fold and unfold my legs for the millionth time in twenty minutes. But I can’t help the throbbing in my center or the growing slickness in my lace panties.

“So, what do you think? Do I have a chance?” he asks with a hopeful air, leaning back in his chair casually, while I continue to squirm.

Jameson Wilcox just has that effect on me. On women. Period.

With his towering, well-muscled frame and sinful gaze, it’s a wonder I’m catching anything of value that he’s saying in that deep, X-rated drawl of his.

I can’t get over his impeccable features against the backdrop of his perfect tawny skin. His eyes are the color of liquid gold, piercing and sensual. Tempting, kissable lips and a jawline any model would envy round out his flawless face. His dark, wavy hair is cut short in a low-maintenance style.

Business is so far from my mind, I will probably start panting soon.

But that is definitely not why he is here.

He’s here, in my cramped office wreaking havoc on my libido, because he needs a loan. To fund a security firm of all things.

Many of the people in this town are scared shitless of this man and for good reason. His dangerous reputation precedes him. I don’t know a single person who wants to be on his bad side and here he is planning to provide “protection” services.

Finally, I clear my throat and lean forward as I clasp my hands in the center of my desk. This causes his intense gaze to shift to the cleavage bared by my button-up silk blouse. Heat rushes through me as he boldly stares, not bothering to look away once he is caught.

I try not to think about it as I clear my throat yet again. This time my words don’t get jammed inside.

“Mr. Wilcox, I appreciate your preparation for this meeting,” I say, shuffling through the business plan he presented upon entering my office.

He eyes me steadily, his intense stare making me stammer.

“You’re… um, very thorough,” I remark as my eyes skim the pages, wondering how long it had taken him to put this all together.

“Yes, Ms. Chambers. I’m very thorough. In every aspect of my life.” A wicked gleam lights his gaze and he smirks, finally looking away from my breasts and back up at me. Then he winks.

All the moisture in my mouth evaporates in an instant, leaving my jaw slack as I ponder the innuendo lacing his words.

Be professional, Grace, I chant to myself.

“However, you don’t seem like the type of man who exactly needs a business loan from a small credit union like Citizens.” I state the obvious because the man is filthy rich.

The small-town rumor mill has me educated on the guy. I know he’s thirty-two and was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And my brief interview about his financial history had revealed that he acquired a large inheritance when his parents passed. Needless to say, his pockets aren’t exactly empty.

He showed up on a brand new luxury motorcycle to prove it.

“One thing I learned in my time as a SEAL is that everything isn’t what it seems, Grace. Can I call you Grace?” he asks belatedly.

My mind is too muddled to care. A military man. Wetness pours from my core as I fold my legs again.

“Anyway,” he continues leaning toward me. “I retired a couple years ago and I’ve been managing my money on my own ever since. I don’t tend to trust banks. But people get suspicious when you start paying cash for everything. Which is why I need you. I need to open a line of credit to establish trust and further expand my brand.”

Very thorough indeed. I bet he learned that as a SEAL as well.

I am nodding before I even knew what is happening. The man just told me he retired at the age of thirty. I’m envious and awed simultaneously.

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Wilcox. Citizens Credit Union is devoted to providing our members with quality service and care. Just give me a couple of days and I’ll see what I can do,” I promise, plucking a business card from my desk.

When he grabs the card, his calloused fingers graze mine and a jolt of electricity shoots through me. If he’s affected in the same way, his gorgeous face doesn’t betray a thing.

As I stand, the stickiness in my panties reminds me of just how slippery things have gotten down south. I will definitely need to change my panties as soon as he vacates the premises.

“Do you have any more questions for me, Mr. Wilcox?” I ask in a voice I hope isn’t too shaky. The last thing I need is for him to know just how horny he’s made me during this meeting.

“Jameson,” he says, reestablishing our eye contact.

“I’m sorry?” My words are barely a whisper as I take in his attire. He’s wearing all black. The dress shirt is unbuttoned at the collar and fitted to showcase his powerful biceps. The slacks fall over his long legs, the hem brushing the tops of expensive leather shoes.

“I want you to call me Jameson. If we’re going to work together, we should be familiar. Wouldn’t you agree, Grace?”

He finally stands, a fresh whiff of his heady scent assaulting my senses all over again. I would honestly agree to anything he said at the moment.

I gulp and nod as he stands there, patiently awaiting my reply.

“Please let me walk you out, Jameson.”

As we reach the credit union’s front lobby, Jameson turns to me with a disarming smile, his perfect white teeth on display.

“I’ll be seeing you, Grace.”

Although I know it’s strictly business on his end, I still relish in what sounds like a sinful promise.

I push out a loud breath as I finally re-enter my office. Closing the door, I walk on shaky legs back to my desk and nearly collapse against the corner of it.

Did the man know he was a walking wet dream?

Too frustrated to work, I journey back to the door and slide the lock in place.

With an urgency I can’t explain, I reach down and remove the sopping panties before taking a seat behind my mahogany desk. Reclining in my over-sized office chair, I lift one leg to rest my foot against the edge of the desk.

As moments from our meeting replay in my head, I decide in that instant that my lunch break will be postponed until my fingers attempt to strum away the tension at my aching center.

I sigh as my fingers make contact, my pointer and middle fingers slipping around the slick button that is my clitoris. My head lolls back enjoying the intoxicating sensations that ripple through my middle.

My fingers inch further south as I summon images of Jameson sitting across from me with that penetrating gaze and that cocky smile. Then I imagine those rough fingers teasing my sensitive nub and a moan escapes me at the erogenous thought.

I continue to rub circles around my clit while I dip a finger into the welcoming warmth of my hole. The penetration is a delightful addition that has me grinding my hips upwards as I imagine Jameson thrusting into me with enough momentum to shake me to my core.

And then I’m coming as I pant my client’s name, the wetness of my release coating my fingers as my shoulders relax and momentary satisfaction covers me.

*****

At five o’clock, I’m the first one out of the office. I’m anxious to get home and share my earlier encounter with my roommate, Stephania.

As I stride across the parking lot, I throw a furtive glance over each shoulder and grip the keychain containing my pepper spray. It is a routine I adopted once I fled my hometown and have to walk anywhere alone.

I unlock the front door and Stephania is in the kitchen, cooking as a mouthwatering aroma fills the small two-bedroom apartment we share.

Her bouncy, red curls are pulled away from her face when she looks up at me with a smile.

“Steph, you will not believe what happened to me today!” I squeal.

“You got a promotion?” she guesses, a hopeful expression on her face.

“No!” I laugh, leaning against the island.

Her lips quirk at my excitement but she doesn’t try to guess again.

“I met a walking sex dream and his name is Jameson Wilcox.”

Her eyes double in size at his name but she remains silent as I give her a detailed play by play.