Egomaniac

“Look how long her legs are.”

Screw biology; this boy was definitely my son. Beck was staring at a flight attendant with the longest stems I’d ever seen. She reached up to tuck some luggage in the overhead compartment above the seat in front of us and caught Beckett leaning into the aisle and staring.

“What’s your name?” She smiled down at him.

“Beckett Archer Jagger.”

He’d said it so proudly, I didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t normal to recite your first, middle, and last name to strangers. The flight attendant snapped the overheard bin closed and knelt down next to him.

“Well, hello, Beckett Archer Jagger. I’m Danielle Marie Warren, and you’re adorable. How old are you, sweetie?”

“I’m six-and-three-quarters.”

“Six-and-three-quarters, huh? Well, I’m thirty-one-and-a-half.” She winked at me and continued talking to Beck. “Only I usually round down from thirty-one-and-a-half—to twenty-seven. Can I get you something to drink, six-and-three-quarter-year-old Beckett Archer Jagger? Maybe some juice?”

He nodded. Then added, “You have legs like a giraffe.”

“Beck,” I scolded.

The flight attendant laughed. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten that before. When I was your age, the kids used to make fun of me for having long legs.” She pointed to her name badge, which read Danny. “My name is Danielle, but everyone calls me Danny for short. And when I was in elementary school, the boys used to call me Danny Long Legs. You know…” She wiggled her fingers. “…like the long-legged spider bugs? Daddy long legs.”

Beckett chuckled. “My mom has a nickname for my dad.”

“She does? I bet it’s something better than Daddy Long Legs.”

I interrupted. “Not sure we want to repeat any of the nicknames Mommy uses for Daddy these days.” I looked at the flight attendant and explained, “Divorced.”

She smiled and winked. “Well, how about I get you some juice before we take off? And something special for Daddy, too?”

A few minutes later, she came back carrying apple juice in a plastic cup with a lid and straw and a glass with two fingers of clear liquid over ice.

Passing them to us, she said, “We’re going to be delayed a bit waiting for some weather to pass. Hope you didn’t have plans for tonight.” She looked at Beck and teased, “You don’t have a date or anything, do you?”

He scrunched up his face like she’d just told him he had to eat all of his broccoli and beets. Let’s keep it that way for a long time, son. I haven’t even figured out women yet. I’m far from ready to give you any advice.

While neither Beckett nor I had any plans for tonight, Danny Long Legs’s comment had me wondering what plans Emerie had decided on for tonight. After our conversation this morning, she hadn’t mentioned anything else. It might have been because the only talking we had time to do this afternoon was me whispering into her ear while she was bent over her desk with her skirt pushed up twenty minutes before I had to leave. Come on my cock was a hell of a lot better than any more discussions about Professor Putz.

But now it was eating at me. Was she sitting at home next to that douchebag she’d been pining over for more than three years? The asshole might act more refined than I did, but when it came down to it, we were both men, and Emerie was a beautiful woman. I’d seen the way he acted when he suspected something might be going on between the two of us. He became territorial—not jealous. Which told me a hell of a lot about how he thought. People are jealous when they want something someone else has. They’re territorial when they’re protecting something they already have. That fucker knew he’d had her all along.

My gut told me he was avoiding getting involved with Emerie because he wanted to have a good time—fuck his way through the faculty and his students, avoiding any real relationships. And how, exactly, did I know this about the guy when I’d only met him a few times? Because I knew the face of that type of man. I’d looked him in the mirror every day for the last two years since my goddamned divorce.

Beck had taken out his drawing pad and was drawing a giraffe. I laughed, thinking how often I doodled while on the phone. Nurture won over nature more often than not. I could totally see myself drawing a giraffe right now if that pencil had been in my hand. Although my giraffe would probably have had tits, because since I hit the age of ten, all of my doodles had pretty much incorporated tits in some way.

While during my entire childhood everything had reminded me of tits, the last week everything reminded me of Emerie. An advertisement for bright red lipstick at the airport. Emerie’s bright red lips wrapped around my cock. The flight attendant mentioning that our plans might be ruined by the weather delay. Emerie’s plans—was she snuggled on the couch with the putz? My son drawing a giraffe. If I drew a giraffe, it would have tits. Emerie’s tits are incredible. All the roads in my mind had been rerouted to one destination lately.

I knocked back half of the drink in one gulp and dug my phone from my pocket.

Drew: What did you wind up doing tonight?

Then I waited for the buzz to tell me Emerie had responded. And waited.

I was turning into a pussy. This was the third time I’d checked my cell phone this morning. Nothing. Twelve hours had passed.

After making chocolate chip pancakes that were more chip than cake, I’d asked Beck what he wanted to do. His answer was always the same: ice skating. The boy was obsessed with hockey. So I bundled the little monster up in three layers, tied the laces of our skates together, and flung a pair over each shoulder before we took off.

We made it to the lobby, and I told Beck I needed to make a quick pit stop in my office. Having still not heard from Emerie, I was starting to wonder if maybe I should worry instead of getting pissed off at what she could have been doing.

Inside my office suite, faint music was playing. It was an instrumental of some sort, and my heart sped up knowing Emerie was just down the hall. I wasn’t sure if it was excitement or anger, but I heard the blood swishing through my ears as I got to her office.

The door was half open, but she didn’t seem to have heard me come in, so I knocked, not wanting to scare her. Considering she jumped onto her chair, I’d say I didn’t succeed.

Instinct had me raising my hands in surrender to her. Again. “It’s just me.”

“You scared the shit out of me.”

With that, Beck, who had been standing behind me, popped out from behind my legs.

Emerie covered her mouth. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. My language.”

Beck answered for me. “My dad says a lot worse.”

I smiled and mussed his hair, but I needed to remember to have a conversation with him later about spilling my secrets.

Emerie climbed off her chair, walked over, and leaned down, offering her hand. “You must be Beck.”

“Beckett Archer Jagger.”

Emerie’s lip quirked, and she glanced up at me. I shrugged.

“Well, nice to meet you, Beckett Archer Jagger. I’m Emerie Rose.”

“Is Rose your middle name or your last?”

Emerie smiled and laughed. It was the same question I’d asked when we first met. “It’s my last name. I don’t have a middle name.”

Beckett seemed to ponder that for a minute, so I cut in.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. Beck and I are going ice skating. Was just worried when you didn’t respond to my text last night.” I locked eyes with Emerie.

She turned around and walked to her desk, lifting her broken cell phone and dangling it between her thumb and pointer. “Dropped it last night. I just picked up a new one, and I’m trying to figure out if there’s a way to restore my contacts from the cloud. I don’t know anyone’s numbers anymore.”

I let out a breath. She wasn’t blowing me off. It really had been eating at me. Probably a fuck of a lot more than it should’ve been.

Normally, if I was interested in a woman and she didn’t respond…next. Plenty of fish in the sea. Only with Emerie, not only had it made me anxious that she hadn’t texted back, the thought of browsing my phonebook for another number didn’t appeal to me at all.

“You want help with that? I break a phone every month.”

She eyed the skates on my shoulders. “I don’t want to keep you guys when you’re on the way out for some fun.”

“Beck doesn’t mind. Right, buddy?”

My son was so easygoing. He shrugged. “Nope. Can I go draw at your desk, Dad?”

“Of course. Bottom right-hand drawer.”

Beck took off running. He loved to sit at my big desk and draw. He could do it for hours.

I walked to the other side of Emerie’s desk.

“He’s adorable,” she said.

“Thank you. He’s a good kid.” I pulled out her chair. “Sit. I’ll show you how to load your new phone.”

Of course, I could have sat down and done it for her in two seconds, but I preferred to lean over her shoulder and have her trapped between the desk and my body. I intentionally spoke low and let my breath tickle her neck.

“You click this folder.” I put my hand over hers on the mouse and clicked. “Then this. And then use the drop-down up here and hit restore.”

Watching her skin prickle with goosebumps, I leaned my head closer to her ear. “You cold?”

“No. I’m good.”

I smiled to myself as I clicked through a few more screens. Then her new phone, which was already plugged into her laptop, lit up and began to restore from the cloud.

“Wow. I’ve been trying to figure that out for an hour now.”

“How’d you break it anyway?”

“If I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh.”

“But I can still make fun of you?”

“No. You can’t do that either.”

I stood. “Then what’s the fun in hearing the story?”

Emerie laughed. “How was your trip to Atlanta, jackass?”

“Flight was delayed a few hours for weather. But it was fine. At least Alexa didn’t give me a hard time.”

Emerie had just given me a perfect opening. I hated that I needed to know, but screw it, I did. I attempted to at least sound casual. “How was your dinner last night?”

Emerie’s brows drew down; then she realized what I was asking. “Oh. I just ordered in Chinese by myself.”

“No dinner with Putz?”

She bit her lower lip and shook her head. I stepped closer.

“Why not?”

“It just…didn’t feel like the right thing to do.”

We’d agreed we were going to be exclusive sexually, and I’d even pretty much told her I thought we had more than just great chemistry, but I couldn’t very well tell her she couldn’t have dinner with a guy friend. Don’t get me wrong, that’s exactly what I wanted to tell her—although since the thought scared even me, I figured I should keep that shit to myself.

Instead of revealing my inner pussy, I walked to her door. My eyes never left hers as I yelled to my son. “All good, Beck?”

“Yeah!” he yelled back.

“Okay. I’ll just be a few minutes, buddy.”

Then I quietly shut the door. “Come here?”

“What are you doing?”

“Come here.”

Emerie did as I asked, coming to stand within my reach. “What?”

“I thought about you the entire plane ride home.”

She swallowed. “Yeah?”

“And in the shower this morning. Had to blast the water ice cold to get my cock under control because every time I shut my eyes, I saw your ass bent over my desk.”

Her eyes widened. “Your son is right in the next office.”

“I know. That’s why you’re not bent over that desk right now, and I’m going to settle for a little taste.”

She licked her lips, and deciding Beck could come look for me at any second, I was done wasting time. I cupped the back of her neck and used it to pull her close as I took her mouth in a rough kiss. My other arm hooked around her waist, and she whimpered as I tugged her body flush against mine. She smelled so damn good. A sweet fragrance mixed with her naturally sexy feminine scent was intoxicating. It took every bit of restraint I had not to turn her around and push her up against the door. When I grabbed a handful of her ass and she moaned into my mouth, I almost lost that restraint.

My dick was throbbing by the time I released her mouth. I was just about to go in for more, when I heard my son calling.

“Fuck,” I grumbled, leaning my forehead against Emerie’s. “I’m going to have to hide my hard-on so he doesn’t ask questions I’m not ready to answer.”

Luckily, I was wearing dark jeans and was able to adjust myself before going to Beck.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“Can we get hot chocolate before we go skating?”

“You just had chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. Don’t you think that’s enough chocolate for the morning?”

My son was smart. “But it’s gonna be cold outside, and it’ll keep me warm on the inside.”

Emerie came to stand next to me. She smiled. “He has a good point.”

“Are you going to come skating with us?” Beck asked.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t know how to ice skate.”

“My dad can teach you. He’s good at everything.”

Nice, kid.

Emerie looked to me for help.

I shrugged. “Kid’s got a point. I am good at everything.”

She rolled her eyes, then spoke to Beck. “You and your dad don’t need me slowing you down.”

“We’ve never gone ice skating with anyone else. I can show you my moves.”

Emerie turned to me with one brow lifted. “He’s got moves, huh? Just like his father.”

I lowered my voice. “Come. Let him show you his moves, and I’ll show you mine later.”