There are worse things than never having the woman you want. Having her? Finding out she isn’t who you thought she was? Losing her? The secrets have reached the end of their tether. It is a fire that’s burned out, leaving only ice in its wake.

There will be no invitation to his room. I feel both disappointment and relief.

“Good night, Mr. Rochester.”

CHAPTER TEN

Beau Rochester

I return to my room smelling of sex.

Jane’s arousal dampens my fingertips.

I’m hard as iron beneath flannel. There’s no way I’m going to sleep like this. Instead I hit the shower in my room, turning the water hot. Cold water would be one option. The restrained option. The stop-lusting-after-your-nanny option. Instead I turn the knob all the way to the right. Water burns my shoulders and my chest. It runs in rivulets down my abs, down my legs.

I grasp my cock in a tight fist, eyes closed, imagining Jane’s dark eyes. Her sweet pussy. Her slender legs, revealed in that hallway.

She should have been afraid of me. I held her slender neck in my hand. God, she should have run away from me. Called the agency and told them what I did. Sued me for sexual harassment. Instead she lifted that pointed little chin and asked me to touch her.

One thing, she said. You can do one thing to me.

The list of things I want to do to her lithe body is long and inventive, but if I can only do one thing then I wanted to kiss her. Simple. Innocent, even. Though there was nothing innocent about the way I claimed her mouth or the way she responded to me.

Two things. I touched her sweet breasts. Teardrop shaped, those breasts. Sloping into a wide curve. Nipples a little darker than I expected. Darker than her lips. She loved when I pinched them. I think my nanny likes it a little bit rough.

I’m still waiting for the third thing, she said, her voice pure sex. I reached into those velvet folds, inside that slick channel. I fucked her with my fingers, and now, in the shower, I use the same hand to fuck myself. I pretend it’s her sweet pussy that I’m rutting against. One arm leans against the cool tile. The other jacks my cock. I close my eyes and rock my hips, pretending I’d lifted her in that hallway. I could have fucked her. She would have let me. Her bare pussy would feel so warm and wet. It would be a heaven I don’t deserve.

Climax builds from the base of my spine. It runs through my body like electricity, heating me more than the steaming water. I grunt through the final thrusts, my breath catching.

“Jane, Jane, Jane.” It’s a chant and a prayer.