Chapter 50

Within fifteen minutes, we were out of the restaurant and on the road. Night had fallen, and Jake navigated the nearly empty highway while I kept him company from the passenger's seat.

He was driving a different car than the one he'd used to pick me up from Maddie's. Probably, that car was still in the shop. This one was shiny and black with a grey interior and kick-ass sound system.

With the music on low, I glanced toward the rear of the car, where we'd stashed the shopping bags. "I still can't believe you didn't get yourself anything," I said.

He gave me a sideways glance. "But I did," he said. "Remember?"

I looked down at my new outfit. "Oh come on," I said. "This?"

"Yeah, that." He turned his head to give me a long, appreciative look. When he returned his gaze to the road, the hint of a smile played across his lips.

This time, when we neared Jake's building, he passed the front turnaround and circled around to the side, entering a concrete parking garage under the building. He pulled into a numbered spot and popped the trunk.

A couple moments later, he was pulling shopping bags out of the trunk.

Standing beside him, I said, "Here, let me carry some."

"Not a chance," he said, grabbing the last bag and holding it out of my reach.

I laughed. "You do realize you're spoiling me something awful?"

"Good," he said. "Now come on." He flicked his head toward a wide metal doorway with an exit sign hanging just above it.

Together, we walked toward it, chatting about nothing in particular. Probably, I was talking too much, because honestly, I was almost afraid I'd jump him right here in the parking garage.

I gave him a long, sideways look. He was my real-life fantasy, dark and sexy, and slightly dangerous, in spite of his expensive clothes and designer watch. My lips parted, and my breathing grew shallow. Abruptly, I stopped talking.

We were quiet a little while until Jake broke the silence by saying, "I've got a question."

"Yeah? What?"

"Just how much practice do you think I need?"

"Huh?"

"In the restaurant," he said, "you said I needed practice."

I felt myself smile. "I didn't say you needed practice. I just said you could practice, you know, if you wanted to."

Next to me, Jake made no response as we entered the building and walked toward the elevators.

I cleared my throat. "But you don't have to," I said, "I mean if you're tired or something."

His voice held the hint of teasing. "So you're tired?"

"No," I blurted out. "Definitely not."

He gave me a wicked grin. "No?"

With an effort, I tried to sound slightly less desperate. "I mean, well, I'm a night owl, so I'm up for whatever."

"Good," he said. "Want a tour of my office?"

"What?" Unsure what had just happened, I gave a little shake of my head. "You mean your home-office? In your penthouse?"

"No," he said. "My regular office."

"You have an office?" I said. "Why?"

"Why not?" he said. "I've got stuff. And people. They've got to go someplace, right?"

Trying to concentrate on more than the mouthwatering idea of getting him naked, I made myself ask, "What kind of stuff?"

"Computer stuff mostly," he said. "Servers, software, work stations, a small graphics studio, that sort of thing."

I almost had to laugh. "I can't believe I'm actually talking about computers with you."

"You know much about computers?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Me neither," he said. "Thus, the people."

"And now," I said, "I can't believe you just said 'thus'."

"Just seeing if you're paying attention."

Oh, I was paying attention, alright. Just not to anything business-related. But that did remind me of something. "Speaking of computers," I said, "who hacked into my email account? You never did tell me."

"You can thank Trey for that."

"Somehow, I can't see myself thanking him."

Jake gave a low laugh. "Give it time. You want the tour or not?"

We'd just made it to the elevators. What I really wanted was him. Like now.

I wanted us to be naked. I wanted to reach out with my fingers and trace the contours of his muscles and tattoos. And then I wanted a whole lot more. But Jake had been such a great sport about shopping that there was no way I'd be saying no to a tour, if that's what he really wanted to be doing. Plus, I was genuinely interested.

"That sounds great," I said. "I can't wait." I glanced back toward the parking garage. "So where's your office? Are we heading back to the car?"

"Nah." Still holding the bags, Jake leaned forward and pressed the elevator up-button with his elbow. "It's here in the building."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'll show you."

In front of us, the nearest elevator door slid open, and we stepped forward. Inside, Jake used his elbow again to press the button for the floor just below his penthouse. Once the elevator started moving, we stood side-by-side, facing the elevator doors while I tried not to fling myself at him.

I snuck a quick glance in his direction. He looked relaxed, casual even. I tried to look relaxed and casual too, as opposed to the sex-starved idiot I was on the inside.

In front of us, the numbers on the control panel changed with every floor and then stopped at the floor he'd pressed. When the elevator doors opened, Jake motioned for me to go first.

Breathlessly, I stepped out of the elevator and looked around. The place didn't look like any office I'd ever seen. Mostly, it was all windows and wide open spaces, with marble floors and clusters of nicely arranged furniture positioned here and there.

The lights were still off, but there was more than enough light to get the basic feel of the place. I looked around. The window-blinds were open, and lights from the city streamed in from all sides. "It's beautiful," I said. "But not exactly what I was expecting."

Next to me, Jake set down the bags. "I know the feeling," he said.

I looked over at him. "But you've been here lots of times, right?"

He met my gaze. "I wasn't talking about the office."

A soft breath escaped my lips. "Oh."

He moved closer, and his casual demeanor vanished. "Want to know why I brought you here?" he asked.

My breath caught. "Sure."

His gaze travelled the length of me. "Want me to tell you? Or show you?"

How did a girl answer such a thing, especially when he was looking at me like that? Cast in shadows, his angular face showed no hint of that boyish streak that I'd seen in the store.

I gazed up at him. "You could do both," I said, "if you wanted."