Page 47 of All Fall Down

I slide my hand around my glass and lift it so that my engagement ring sparkles in the afternoon sunlight. “Oh honey, I already own it.”

When I stepoff the escalators to the lobby, I’m met with half of the hotel’s security team. So much for keeping a low profile. Maddox shrugs through the crowd of suits. We both know that when Jameson wants to make a scene he’s going to.

“Miss Southerly, I’ve been asked to escort you upstairs.” It’s hard to take the man speaking to me seriously given that he’s wearing sunglasses inside the building, but I do my best.

Following him toward the bank of elevators that lead to the business offices, I spot Jameson waiting for me. His tie is still knotted tightly at his throat and his suit is pressed. I’m used to seeing him later in the day when he’s ditched the veneer of respectability. The man standing in front of me is far too respectable and it’s having an undeniable effect on me.

He takes me by the hand, thanking the guard.

“I thought you were staying home,” he whispers. “I have to admit that I was rather enjoying visualizing you naked in bed, waiting for me.”

“Are you disappointed to see me?” I ask, brushing a chaste kiss over his lips.

“Never,” he promises, rubbing the stubble peppering his jaw. Without thinking, I reach up and run a finger along it.

“You need to shave,” I murmur.

“I shaved this morning.” His mouth closes over mine before I can continue to critique his appearance. Despite the tension coiling through my limbs, I melt against him. When we finally break apart, I gasp for breath. “Just think of it as friction, Duchess.”

“I like it,” I simper.

He doesn’t mistake the double meaning and without a word, he grabs my hand and strides toward the elevator.

“Are you on a break?” I call, trying to fish my phone out of my bag with my free hand.

“No.” He continues forward and to my surprise, he bypasses the private elevator and steps into one crowded with people. Jameson shifts behind me to make room for another passenger, giving him the opportunity to grab my hips and pull me against him. His dick presses against my butt and my breath hitches. Just imagining what’s about to happen, tightens my stomach and when we step off the elevator a few floors later. I glance around.

“Where are the hotel rooms?” I ask in confusion, staring at a corridor of meeting rooms and banquet halls.

“If I take you near a bed, I won’t get back to work today, and”—he checks his phone— “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” I taunt him, letting my hips sway a bit as I walk.

“Not until you answer a question.” He grabs me around the waist and holds me. Meanwhile I’ve stopped breathing. Jameson didn’t spot me by chance in the hotel lobby. He’d sought me out.

Leading me into a meeting room, he picks me up and sets me on the edge of a table. “What are you doing here?”

“How did you know I was here?” I hate the idea of lying to him, so I counter with a question of my own.

“We were overseeing the implementation of a new security system.” He smiles tightly. I don’t need him to explain why it’s necessary. Jameson has been gradually increasing security around his hotel, his family, and to my annoyance, his girlfriend, since his dad was killed. “Were you hoping to see me?”

He steps between my legs, angling his face to nuzzle my neck. I hook my arms around his neck, my fingers lingering in his mess of auburn hair. “I’m always hoping to see you, but I had lunch with Monroe.”

I’m leaving a few important details out, but I’m not certain he’s going to be thrilled about this party. I need to butter him up first.

“Monroe?” he repeats.

“She wants me to feel like part of the family.” I prop my index finger over his lips when he tries to speak. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping her close without letting her get too close.”

“Smart girl,” he breathes. Jameson is content with my answer or he’s lost his patience. Either way, he’s distracted from his interrogation. His hands creep under my shirt to massage my breasts while he kisses my collarbone. Within a few seconds, I’m practically vibrating under his touch.

“You were saying something about friction, Duchess?” he whispers against my skin before brushing his cheek across my neck. My body answers for me, erupting in goosebumps. Jameson chuckles under his breath. He rocks against me and I clutch his tie, lowering my back to the table. I don’t bother to ask if he’s locked the door, even after he’s stripped me from the waist down. One of the perks of being with the owner of a resort is that no one is calling security if they stumble in. Plus, the idea of getting caught sends a throb traveling between my legs.

Jameson’s jaw trails along the soft inner skin of my thigh, sending a ripple of pleasure that bubbles out of me in giggles.

“Are you ticklish?” He lingers in the spot until I’m laughing and panting, torn between giddiness and anticipation. Finally, his head pops into view, a smug grin plastered on his face. “You sound like a squeak toy.”

I glare at him, too weak from his physical teasing to come up with a retort. My lack of response only encourages him to laugh, too. Hooking his arms around my legs, he drags me to the edge of the table. “Don’t worry, Duchess. I’m not done playing with my toy yet.”