Page 84 of Most Likely to Deny Love

“Jack,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he set a relentless pace. “Oh god, Jack.”

“That’s it,” he urged, his voice strained with effort. “Say my name. I want to hear you when you come.”

The cool glass at my back, the heat of Jack’s body at my front, the incredible fullness of him moving inside me, was all too much. The tension built and built until it shattered, as I cried out his name.

Jack followed moments later, his rhythm faltering as he buried his face in my neck, groaning his release. For several long moments, we stayed like that, tangled together against the window, our breathing gradually slowing as we came down from the high.

When he finally lowered me to my feet, my legs were so wobbly I had to cling to him for support. He laughed softly, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, the words carrying a weight beyond their simple meaning.

And as we stumbled to the bed, limbs entwined and bodies still humming with satisfaction, I tried to ignore the way my heart flipped at Jack’s words.I’ve got you.No need to go reading too much into how that made me feel. Just a side effect of really good orgasms. It had to be.

JACK

Four days back from Paris, and I still couldn’t look at Mia without remembering the way she’d felt pressed against that hotel window, the sounds she’d made when I’d buried myself inside her while the Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance. Professional boundaries had become a fucking joke.

“Customer retention is up, acquisition costs are down, and we’ve successfully implemented the new archetype system across all client categories.” She delivered her report to the team in a clear, confident voice.

I had to force myself to focus on her words instead of the way her gray blazer hugged her curves.

Porter shifted in his seat, clearly preparing to make some comment about territory advantages or resource allocation, but before he could speak, Mia reached up and gathered her hair in hands, pulling it over her shoulder. The simple gesture exposed the elegant line of her neck, and I was instantly transported back to that hotel room, my mouth on that exact spot while she gasped my name.

Mia’s gaze flicked to mine and the moment our eyes met, a flush crept up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. She clearlyremembered the same moment I was thinking about. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for her water glass.

“Any questions about the Western numbers?” she asked, her voice slightly breathless.

Rebecca, who’d been taking notes with unusual intensity, looked up sharply. Her eyes darted between Mia and me with the predatory focus of a shark scenting blood.

“Actually, I do have a question,” Tiffany interjected.

Before Tiffany could ask her question, my phone buzzed against the table. It was a text from Nan.

We’d talked Monday night. I’d told her I was engaged and sent through the photo from the Eiffel Tower, and her joy had been infectious.

“Jack, she’s absolutely beautiful,” she’d gushed, her voice bright. “And that ring! Oh, sweetheart, you did so well. She looks at you like you hung the moon. When can I meet her?”

“She’ll be with me at Thanksgiving.”

I’d felt a stab of guilt at her genuine delight, but it had been quickly overshadowed by the knowledge that her delight was exactly the point of this whole charade. Easing her mind about me, so she could focus on getting better, was the name of the game.

But then she’d delivered the news that had made my blood run cold. “Your mother’s going to lose her mind when she sees that photo. And of course, you know she’s going to start asking about Mia’s family background. If your girl has any skeletons in her closet, your mother will drag them out and dance with them. I’ll do what I can to hold her back. Let’s just hope it’s enough.”

Spoke to your mother. Everything is sorted for Thanksgiving. But she’s pissed you haven’t called her, sweetheart. It might be best to get that over and done with, before it becomes a bigger issue than it needs to be. You know how she is.

I did know how she was and now I was second guessing my impulsive decision to ask Mia for a fake engagement. Exposing her to my family poison was far from fair. Maybe I should…

“Everything alright?” Mia’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. The meeting had apparently ended while I was staring at my phone, and the room was emptying out. Only Mia, Emily, and Rebecca remained.

“Fine,” I said, pocketing the phone. “Just family… stuff.”

Rebecca’s eyes sharpened at the word ‘family,’ but before she could pry, Emily’s phone buzzed loudly on the table. She glanced at it, then winced.

“Speak of the devil,” Emily muttered, holding up her phone. “My mom wants me to ‘pin you down’ about the dress fitting next Saturday. Apparently you haven’t responded to the group chat.”

Mia’s face went pale. “There was a group chat?”

“Yes, Mia. The group chat you muted after the thirty third message about centerpiece colors.”

---