“How the hell do you upload a video on accident?”

I chewed my lip so ferociously it started to hurt. “I, uh, I have no idea. I’d had a lot to drink that weekend. I think I might have shared it on accident. I’m so non-tech savvy that it’s a miracle I haven’t accidentally launched a nuclear missile by hitting the wrong button in the wrong app.”

He continued to watch me, that unwavering stare unsettling me. I tried not to fidget. Finally folding my hands in my lap, I stared at them instead of allowing myself to be distracted by Jordan’s underwear model good looks.

“Wow, Weiss. That’s, uh...I have no idea what the fuck I’m supposed to do with that information.” He looked down at the paperwork in his hands and then said, “Shit…I left my laptop upstairs. Go grab it for me.”

I opened my mouth and then shut it, confused and angry yet again. This man pushed my buttons constantly. He stared at me, as if expecting me to reply. I stood and made my way toward the stairs. “Which one is your room?” I asked.

He frowned, studying my heels. “Take off your shoes. You’re going to be here a while.”

“That’s okay. I prefer to keep them on,” I said between my teeth.

“First room on the left at the top of the stairs.”

I climbed the stairs and slipped into his room, flipping on the light. This room was the complete opposite of the rest of the house. His bedroom had a lot to say about him. There were pictures of him on the wall, posing with a surfboard as a teen with numerous ribbons and trophies. He had a line of books on a shelf above his desk, mostly related to the stock market and business but some econ theory books as well. I made a mental note of the ones I hadn’t read.

His bed was neatly made and surprisingly tame-looking. Not what I had been expecting from the playboy millionaire. No mirrors on the ceiling or flashy disco ball. No kinky bondage equipment. Maybe he had another room set aside for that. I almost snorted at the thought.

I wandered over to the desk where his laptop sat amidst neatly arranged and precisely labeled folders and binders going back at least five years. As I scooped up the laptop, I paused when I noticed the family photo sitting on the corner of the desk. There were five in the photo, including Jordan, in a picture that looked like it was taken at his college graduation from Caltech. His mom and dad stood on either side of him, his dad grim-faced and his mother smiling so wide that you could barely see her eyes. Two other people were in the photo, a teenage boy and a preteen girl with golden blond curls. I bent to get a closer look.

“Did you find it yet?”

I straightened with a jerk and threw a guilty look at the doorway. How long had I been up here? And more importantly, how long had he been standing there watching me snoop in his room?

He studied me with hooded eyes, and my face burned with a furious blush. We held each other’s gaze for a long moment before he broke it to glance over the room, as if making sure I hadn’t swiped something.

“Sorry. I got distracted,” I muttered.

Blank-faced, he held out his hand for the laptop and I brought it to him. He took it from me but did not move from the doorway, signaling for me to go ahead of him. Maybe it was because he didn’t trust me in his room alone for another moment.

I brushed by him, acutely aware of the heat of his body, the smell of the ocean on his skin. My chest briefly grazed his and I paused, glancing up at him. He swallowed visibly. I was barely able to breathe in the tension-thickened air. We were now inches from each other.

My heart drummed in my throat, but I didn’t know if it was from his nearness or my fear of his reaction to my snooping.

Slowly, I licked my dry lips. “I—I’m sorry about that. There—”

He stiffened. “Just go, Weiss. Downstairs, now,” he said in a voice like steel. I suppressed a yelp as I spun and tripped down the stairs like a panicked colt.

Chapter 6

Jordan

I leaned against the doorjamb and watched her go, scrubbing a hand over my face to break contact with her ass. Apparently, I had an unwavering fascination with the damn thing. And that slim waist…the way the graceful curve at the small of her back rose to the swells of her round ass in that sleek, black, form-hugging dress. God, she was a knockout. For the umpteenth time I questioned my sanity for keeping her here tonight.

I called out to let her know I needed a pit stop and I’d be right down, then set aside the laptop and strode with purpose into the ensuite bathroom. It always took forever to take a piss when my dick was hard. And fuck it, her brief brush up against me and the sultry licking of those pink, puffy lips was all it took.