The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(77)

His brow furrows. “I’ll get Alan to pick something up.”

“No.” I frown. “I want to go to the grocery store.”

His hands roam up and down my body as if he doesn’t know where to start. “Take the limo.”

I screw up my face. “I’m not going to the grocery store in a limo.”

He grabs my hand and places it over the huge erection in his suit pants, and I grab it as his eyes flicker in arousal. “I need you,” he breathes as he bites my bottom lip.

“Oh God, me too.” I pull out of his grip as I pant. “I have to get back to work.”

God . . . it would be so easy to stay here and fuck the boss instead.

“I’ll have Alan deliver the car to you. You use it from now on.”

“The car?” I frown. He has a car?

“Just use it as your own.” His hands grind me onto his body. He’s completely preoccupied with arousal.

“I only need it to do groceries just today. Don’t bother Alan. I can get it from your apartment.”

“Our apartment.” He bites my neck as he really begins to eat me. Goose bumps scatter all over my body.

“Huh?”

“You’ll be moving in with me.”

“What?” I pull out of his arms as my arousal fog temporarily lifts. “What did you say?”

His dark eyes dance with delight. “If I’m doing this, I’m fucking doing this.”

I stare at him. What the hell?

“I don’t do things by half, Emily. If you’re with me, you’re with me.”

“Jameson,” I whisper. “Have you gone crazy?”

“I have meetings scheduled back to back all day, or I would be bending you over my desk right now.” He turns me around and slaps me on the behind. “Now get back to work before I do it.”

I pant as I stare at the door. A visual of me lying across his desk with my legs open swirls through my head. How am I supposed to string two thoughts together after he says that?

“Yes, sir.” I begin to walk to the door.

“Oh, and Emily,” he calls in his commanding voice.

I turn.

“I will be announcing today that we are in a relationship.”

I frown as I stare at him. Confusion swirls around in my head. “Why?”

“Because I hate speculation.” He pauses as his eyes hold mine. “And I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

I stare at him. Huh?

His.

I have no words . . . rendered completely speechless. “Oh.” I stare at him. “Okay?” I turn and walk toward the foyer. “Goodbye,” I mutter, distracted.

Either Jameson Miles has gone completely crazy, or I am in a parallel universe.

Two hours later, I sit and stare at my computer. I was too freaked out to talk about this morning’s Twilight Zone encounter in Jameson’s office when I returned. It’s taken me this long to get my head around what he said.

I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s obviously jet lagged to holy hell and is suffering some kind of delusion. My phone dances across my desk, and my favorite letter appears.

J.

I smile as I answer. “Hello, Mr. Miles.”

“How’s my girl?” his sexy voice purrs down the line.

“Are you feeling all right?” I frown.

“I’m feeling great. Why?”

“You just seem very . . .” I pause as I think of the right word. “Odd.”

He laughs his deep velvety laugh, and I feel it all the way to my bones. “I don’t feel odd.”

“You’re acting odd.”

“I’m just calling to tell you that we have a dinner tomorrow night.”

“What dinner?”

“The Media Awards,” he replies calmly.

“The Media Awards,” I repeat.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

I look around at my two work friends, who are completely oblivious to the crazy shit that’s coming out of my running partner’s mouth. “Where is it?”

“Here in New York. My entire family will be there. You’ll get to meet everyone.”

My eyes widen in horror. “Well, what’s the dress code?”

“Black tie.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. “I don’t have any evening dresses here,” I stammer. I don’t have any at home either, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“That’s okay. I’ll have some things delivered home tonight, and you can pick what you want to wear.”

I scratch my head in confusion. “I’ll just come to the next one,” I say. “I’ll wait at home in bed for you. The Media Awards aren’t really my jam.”

“Emily,” he says calmly.

“Yes.”

“You are coming with me.”

“Jay,” I whisper as I feel nerves rise in my throat.

“I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be a little late as I have a conference call. Alan is going to meet you out the side entrance at five with the keys to the car and the apartment.”

“Okay.” I puff air into my cheeks. “See you then.”

I hang up and put my head into my hands.