*Isabella's POV*
As I got back to my hotel room, all the freaking effects of the night wore off, and I was left with pure frustration. I didn't understand Jacob, and it was pissing me off. He didn't seem like the guy who would want to take things slow, but I guess I was wrong. I had pretty much misjudged him, and it was annoying the hell out of me. From Elly to Jo-anne, maybe I was wrong about him, and that thought was really getting under my skin.
*The next day*
As I boarded his private jet, I was still feeling a bit cranky. We were midair on our way back to Raleigh, and Jacob was showing off his plane, boasting about how it cooler than Damien's. "See, mine is bigger and so much better," he said, grinning from ear to ear like a damn idiot. But I couldn't help but think of something else, something a bit more...inappropriate. I was trying to focus on the conversation, but my mind kept wandering back to the way he had kissed me the night before, and I was getting a little damn distracted.
"You're such a manchild," I said, rolling my eyes, and Jacob chuckled in response. He was sitting across from me, but before I could even process what was happening, he pulled me out of my seat and into his lap. I didn't even have time to protest, not that I would have wanted to. He held me in his lap, one hand around my waist and the other brushing back my hair as he planted kisses on my jaw and down my neck. I couldn't help but giggle at the sensation.
"Jacob, stop, that tickles," I said, trying to squirm away, but he just held me tighter. "Make me," he replied, his voice low and husky, with a hint of a damn smirk. I felt like I was melting into his touch, my body responding to his kisses like it had a mind of its own. I knew I should be pushing him away, telling him to stop, but the truth was, I didn't want him to. I wanted to feel this way, to be desired and wanted, and Jacob was making me feel all of those things and more.
"Hello," a female voice pulled us from the moment, and I jumped, feeling like I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't be. But Jacob pulled me back into his lap, his grip on my waist tightening slightly, as if to say, Don't worry, I've got you. I was still flustered, my face burning with embarrassment.What did this woman think of me, sitting on my boss's lap like this?
"I'm Miranda. What can I get for you." She asked politely. "Uhm..." I stuttered, trying to compose myself, but Jacob just smiled and took over. "Bring us Danish Rye on the rocks," he said, his voice confident and smooth. "Don't worry, sweetheart, filet mignon is coming as well. I'm not trying to make you drunk," he whispered in my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. I felt like I was melting into his touch, quickly forgetting to think of what this woman thought of me.
"Fancy food, sounds like a date" I retorted, trying to sound casual, but Jacob just chuckled and replied, "It can be," his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "Would you like it to be?" he added, planting a kiss on my neck, drawing closer to my collarbone. The kisses weren't ticklish anymore; they were now more intimate, igniting erogenous zones I didn't know I had.
As he kissed me, I felt like I was losing all sense of reason. The kisses were no longer just a playful tease; they were now a sensual exploration of my skin. I was getting lost in the sensation, and I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if we took this further.
"What?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper, as Jacob pulled back to look at me. "This lunch," he said, his eyes locked on mine. "Do you want it to be our first date?" He asked, his voice low and husky, and I felt like I was being pulled into a vortex of desire.
"Uhm...uh," I stuttered, unsure of how to respond. I was torn between my desire for him and my conscious. But before I could say anything, Jacob pulled me into for a kiss. This time, it was fast, yet gentle, and intense.
"I was right to call you sweetheart," he said, his voice low and husky. "I couldn't get enough of you." And as he kissed me again, I knew that I couldn't argue with that. He couldn't kiss me all day, and I'd still want more. It was like I was under his spell, and I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I gave in to my desires.
As we sat there, lost in the intensity of our kiss, the sudden sound of Miranda's voice broke through the silence, making us pull away from each other. "Your food is here," she said, her tone professional, but I couldn't help but feel like I'd been caught red-handed. Fuck, not again. This was the second time today I'd been caught in a compromising position, and I hated feeling like this. It was like I was on display, with everyone watching my every move, waiting for me to slip up.
As Miranda put our food in front of us, I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. "Bon Appetit," she said, her voice cheerful, but I just felt like crawling under a rock. Fuck, what must she think of me? That I'm a fucking slut or something? One of those secretaries who spreads their legs whenever their boss tells them to? The thought made my skin crawl, and I felt a wave of shame wash over me.
And as I sat there, feeling like I was on display, I couldn't help but think about how much I wanted to be with Jacob. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. I wanted to be the one he turned to,the one he confined in, the one he wants more than anything.