Layover (Open Skies #1) - Becca Jameson Page 0,23

navy bedding, and the gorgeous hardwood floors, she quickly removed all her clothes and hoisted herself up onto his bed, getting into the position he’d requested.

She was really doing this. Decisively. This wasn’t like their “one-night stand.” She was now consciously and intentionally submitting to the only man who’d ever made her heart beat as fast as it was right now.

Chapter 8

Jason took his time cleaning the kitchen. There wasn’t really anything else to do. He was stalling to give Libby a few moments alone. He knew she was rattled. She would need to gather her thoughts and have some time to undress.

He also knew she would follow his orders.

This evening had not gone quite as he’d expected. Not even close. He had fully intended to spend time getting to know her on a more personal level because he did honestly like her, but he hadn’t expected to demand exclusivity. That had snuck up on him. It was crazy enough that he wanted Libby to spend the night in his bed. He had no idea where his possessive instinct came from. He was heading into dangerous territory. The last woman he trusted with his heart stomped on it and made a fool out of him. He swore he would never let something like that happen to him again. He would not.

Were there red flags flying? Yes. But he wasn’t as naïve as he’d been three years ago. He was also smarter and more hardened. He just needed to be careful. Keep his eyes open.

Libby is not Veronica, he reminded himself, shaking the unwelcome thoughts from his mind.

He was still reeling at the idea that Libby’s parents, her mom in particular, seemed to have as much control over her as they did. She was twenty-eight years old. A grown woman. Educated. Intelligent. Outspoken. Strong. The whole package. How was she still under her mother’s thumb?

Part of him was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t seen him as more than a hot fuck. How ironic. I finally meet a woman who makes me look twice, and she pulls a one-eighty on me and wants nothing but sex?

He smiled as he wiped off the counter. Serves me right. How many times have I been in the opposite situation?

Truth be told, although he hadn’t contacted her for the last six months since their night together, she’d been on his mind. She’d featured in many of his dreams. He’d begun to think he’d exaggerated their night together, blown it out of proportion. And then he’d seen her last night, and instantly he’d been reminded that what he’d experienced had been real.

He’d actually been a little bitter that she’d left without a word that morning. Irrationally, since he’d been known to do the same thing on occasion, and who the hell was he that the tables couldn’t be turned on him? It humbled him.

He understood. It made sense that she would assume their night had been a one-off. He’d thought the same thing at first, too. It was easier for her to sneak out and avoid the awkward morning after. He got that. It was the reason he hadn’t called her.

But now. Jesus. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, trying to rein in his reactions to her. There was no doubt he understood her better, and nothing she’d said had made him back off. In fact, if anything, he viewed her as even more of a challenge.

Your mother doesn’t let you date white guys?

He smirked in his mind. We’ll just see about that.

He couldn’t believe he’d given her an ultimatum, halfway through their first real date. Their one-night stand couldn’t count because they hadn’t exchanged enough words to know anything about each other. What they had learned, however, was far more important in his book. They had chemistry like no one he’d ever been with.

Nevertheless, he was surprised by his insistence that she not date anyone else. The words had flown out of his mouth before he could stop them. On top of that, he had no regrets. He probably shouldn’t feel this possessive, but he did. He didn’t own the woman after one night of fucking and a half-date.

Except he did. At least for now. He did own her.

And he was about to show her what it meant to be owned by him.

After a last quick glance around the kitchen, he took a deep breath and padded toward his bedroom.

The moment he rounded the corner, his breath hitched.