CHAPTER THREE

The weekend passed very quickly in a hazy blur. Lana had dragged me downtown to a bar for some much-needed relaxation after a stressful week at her department and the looming reality of my new job. Still, every spare moment, my mind faltered, circling continuously back to Jack. What was it about him that I couldn’t just resist?

His piercing blue eyes?

That impossibly handsome face?

The searing warmth of his touch? Or the way he made me quiver all over when we were in close proximity.

I was by and large slipping into a reverie about Jack in every fleeting moment. I was losing myself in want, and that wasn’t the plan. This job meant the world to me, the last thing I needed was to ruin it with an insatiable desire I had no right to feel. My first day at the confectionery was tranquil almost unreal. The grandeur of the factory was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, its interior nothing short of breath taking. I worked here now? At McCullen Confectionery? It felt incredible. I could never thank Lana or Mr Betton enough. Mr Betton was a financial magnate, an entrepreneur, and the CEO for Betton Conglomerate. His influence was boundless, his connections and networks amassed like trophies over decades of expertise. Turning him down for any favours whatsoever was unheard of and practically obscene – something that should never be done. When he called in a favour, you answered without questions or interrogations.

The day was mainly used for basic introductions and acquainting myself with the varying departments. McCullen Confectionery rose with a quiet confidence; dark glass, clean lines, and steel-grey panels framing wide windows that caught the light and gleamed. The smooth white curve of the glass-clad building softened the sharp edges, with a modern architectural theme. The imposing building didn’t demand attention. It commanded it.

The supervisor, Millicent, was a striking blonde in her mid-thirties with pouty lips and an air of authority. She oversaw the brief training, her sharp demeanour and precise explanations making her both intimidating and impressive. We toured the entire facility—a walk so long it felt like traversing a city. My awe was palpable. Millicent was the backbone of this place as rumoured, and it was quite obvious –her command of the production line was flawless, and for a moment, I aspired to be just like her.

Until lunch.

“Is this seat taken?” A voice stabbed at my back

I shook my head. “No, you can sit.”

“How are you liking it so far?” The voice said, circling beside me.

“Enormous,” I said honestly. “And a dream come true.”

“Right?” He grinned. “William. William Knight.”

“Robin.”

“No surname?” He winked at me as he sat, his face flashing with a loopy grin.

“Clay.”

“Beautiful name.” He leaned closer towards me. “You know, I heard the biggest news today.”

 Despite myself, a sweet smile washed across my face, trying my best to look to sound intrigued. “What’s that?”

“Millicent and the big boss are an item.”

“The big boss?” As far as I was concerned, there were a ton of big bosses in this behemoth. Could he be more specific?

My eyebrows knitted together, a crease forming between them, urging him to let the big news out already.

“Mr McCullen.”

Something splintered inside my chest.

“Oh.”

That was all I could manage.

What had I expected? A man like Jack; successful, over confident and attractive… single?

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, at least for me. My heart quietly fracturing in my chest. I resolved to forget everything Jack McCullen and focus on my career…that would never not end in tears.

The weekly reports would end eventually. They had to. I would make sure of it.

To survive, I’d have to keep our encounters brief, minimal contact and professional distance.

Friday came sooner than I had anticipated. Lana was already at a bar waiting for me, by the content of the recent text that declared on my phone and I couldn’t keep her waiting. She’d made it her mission to sleuth around for new bars and explore only the best together every Friday, I liked the distraction. Though I was positively certain this ruse of an idea wouldn’t last for long. Lana was far too busy with her position as the laboratory assistant at the biology department at Oxford to be playing detective.

The journey from McCullen Confectionery Factory to McCullen Heights was exhausting on foot. I paused for a moment, letting my eyes roam over the building’s exterior. It was just as imposing as the factory its self. They both exuded the same character – majestic, commanding and alluring and I couldn’t suppress the flicker of admiration spreading across my face.

I glanced past the mountain of stairs and stepped into the elevator instead. Gosh, those stairs were as for cardio as a treadmill. My heart pounded rapidly against my chest in anticipation as I strode to his office. Get in, deliver and leave, get in, deliver and leave, get in, deliver and leave. I repeated the mantra like a catholic prayer, and boy did I need it. If I was to stay sane with him and not combust, I required every muscle and prayer. God help me.

As I approached Mr. McCullen’s door, I knocked once and twisted the door knob with confidence. This time, with no hesitations.

“Good evening, Mr. McCullen. I have your report.” I said, holding the report out to him.

He looked up, gazing at me with those blue eyes piercing straight through me.

Get a grip, Robin. He’s unavailable.

“Oh. Right. Have a seat.”

He returned to his computer.

“Give me a minute, will you.”

I nodded, my thoughts spiralling with an image of him and Millicent together.

I frowned.

“Done,” he declared, closing his laptop and rubbing the nape of his neck.

“You can leave it on the desk.”

I did, and stood up almost immediately… too quickly to leave, striding across the room to the door.

He crossed the room, just in time and caught my arm before I could make it out.

“Leaving so soon?” he purred, his voice raspy and sensual.

“Yes. I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Wait. Don’t leave.”

He traced his bottom lip with his tongue, sending tiny shivers of molten heat spread through my entire body. I turned my face away from him, flushed and throbbing at the right places. GET A GRIP!

“Look at me.” He held my chin and tilted it up, forcing my eyes to meet his. “You’ve been on my mind all week. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Robin—but I intend to find out.”

His hoarse voice was laced with a seduction I wasn’t prepared for and I wanted to moan in response.

Oh God!

This was sinful. I spent every day scorning Mason for his betrayal, yet here I was, my mind twisting against me and craving for another woman’s man in ways that made me shudder and ache all at once.

I pulled away from his touch. I couldn’t do this.

“Mr McCullen—”

“Jack. Just... call me Jack.”

He said, taking slow, cautious steps towards me.

“Jack,” I said evenly, backing away. “I don't know what you think is happening here, but I'd like to work away from drama.”

He strode forward, closing the gap, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lip. He thought this was funny?

God.

“I’m not imagining this, Robin. I know you feel this too.” His fingers brushed my lips slowly and I shut my eyes in anticipation. I was dead “I’ve thought about touching you and kissing you all week.”

“Please stop.” I whispered, my heart throbbing in my chest, his intense gaze doing nothing to soften my wrecking body. I needed to LEAVEEE!

“You want this.”

I stood helplessly staring into his blue eyes, unable to look away as he hypnotised me. He leaned in, lifting me effortlessly from the ground until we were eye to eye –his gaze devouring me. I was a finished woman.

“You’re too beautiful, Robin” he murmured into my ears, brushing his lips gently over my earlobe. “I don’t know how I controlled myself for this long.” A rush of shiver broke across my skin, every nerve ending prickling and standing at attending. He had so much effect on me, I felt weak.

He brought his face closer, pressing his forehead against mine –then at once every reason to end this madness escaped. The world narrowed to the space between us, leaving me motionless and drunk. I instinctively lifted my hand to his face, tracing the lines of his jaw with my fingers.

Everything shattered.

He pressed his lips against mine in a slow pace, my mind going delirious with all sort of emotions piercing through me at different angles. His lips were warm, soft and pillowy against mine, allowing my tongue to slip gently into his mouth – feeling the soft tickle of his breath beneath my nose, his fingers carding through my long thick hair as we breathed each other in. His intoxicating fresh water and mint scent with a hint of oud infiltrated my senses. My breathing hitched, our bodies pressing together against the wall, heat building between us as our lips moved in a slow, hungry rhythm. His tongue rolled over mine, tasting our shared breath and feeling the thud of our heartbeats as he gently set me down on my feet, our hands fumbling to peel each other’s clothes away.

God, I have to stop this, he has a girlfriend… Oh God.

I ran my fingers slowly through his curls—so soft, so silky. Nothing about this felt wrong; we both wanted this, we both needed this, and I was going crazy with want. Yet...

I needed him.

Stop. He’s taken...

God. This wasn’t right. I was defying my own rule—never to get involved with a man who was already committed. Yet every sensible thought was thrown out the window, and I was hopelessly undone by the pull of him.

He cupped my cheek and kissed every inch of my face, consuming me piece by piece, leaving no part of me untouched, no space for reason to survive.

My mind screamed restraint, but my body was overcome with desire, trembling under the towering weight of this man. Intoxicating me with a want I couldn’t name, yet couldn’t resist.

“No—Jack,” I gasped, jerking away from him. Geeing myself up, I gingerly pulled my clothes back on, feeling ashamed— my thoughts far less composed.

“You’re not leaving, Robin,” he said, his hands inching to hold my waist. “Not now.”

 “I can’t do this.”

I withdrew, my legs buckling uncontrollably beneath me, betraying every shred of control that remained. My purse and phone sat forgotten on his swivel chair.

 Shit.

I fled—leaving my purse, my phone, and my dignity behind.

I couldn’t go back. I won’t be able to stop myself.

I was such a shameless tart.

I slammed into Lana’s car, yanked the door shut, and fired up the ignition. My hands shook violently on the stirring wheel, my chest feeling like it was being ripped apart, and the world tilted as I sped away. I looked and felt dreadful. My lips were swollen and checks flushed, how did I get here?

The memory of him clawed at my skin, searing through me, was impossible to escape. Every brush of his hands, every press of his lips, every controlled motion of him was all ingrained into my memory, pulsing through my veins, making restraint feel like a bad joke. I tried to focus on the road, but my body remembered what my mind refused to accept.

Holy shit… what just happened?

*******

I pulled into the bar’s parking lot and finally freed myself from the insufferable seatbelt that hugged tightly around my body. Stepping out beneath the harsh glow of the oversized exterior light, my silhouette stretched long across the concrete slab, forcing me to pause. I needed a minute—to breathe, to gather my thoughts, to process what the hell had just happened.

I must have lost my mind.

I exhaled sharply and headed inside.

Lana wouldn’t be hard to find and she wasn’t. I spotted her slouched against the bar counter, her fingers curled around what looked like either a martini or a Bloody Mary.

“Hey,” she said, leaning in to kiss my cheeks. “It took you long enough. I’ve been blowing up your phone. I got worried.”

“Is that so?” I replied, eyeing her drink pointedly.

“I needed company,” she said unapologetically. “You know how I get when I worry. What kept you so long? I thought you were just handing in a report and meeting me here.”

“We kissed,” I blurted, moving past her to place an order at the bar.

“I’m sorry…what?” Lana stuttered in disbelief, judgement flashing across her face, as she swirled to face me.

“You kissed him, Robin?” she asked, incredulous. “I thought you said he was seeing someone.”

 “Well…he kissed me first. And I… I couldn’t resist.” My voice faltered. “I feel disgusted with myself.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Lana said gently, her tone softening. “I know you’re still hurt and confused after what that dimwit did. But don’t make another mistake by falling for someone who’s already taken.”

She tucked a wisp of hair behind my ear, grounding me the way she always did.

Lana had been my constant long before Mason…long before Jack McCullen complicated my life, long before loss taught me how quickly everything could fracture and change in seconds.

“I’m over Mason,” I insisted. “I swear. I just… I don’t know what happened. One minute I was handing in the report he’d requested, the next minute I was up against the wall. I couldn’t focus. I panicked and dashed out as soon as I could.”

My eyes burned as the tears started to pinched on them, threatening to pour over in defiance of my control.

“Nope,” she said firmly. “We’re not doing that.”

“What?”

“Wallow in self-pity and gloom.”

She brushed away a tear slipping down my cheek.

“Am I that gullible, Lana?” I asked, my voice breaking as the emotional floodgate burst open.

“No, baby,” she said. “You just attract cheats and unavailable men.”

She twisted her face into grimace, making me laugh.

“You’re intelligent, confident, strong and devastatingly alluring Robin. Gullible is not one of your flaws.”

I nodded, wiping my face with my index finger.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s get drunk.”

She pulled me toward our table, and I followed, smiling. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

******

An hour and a half later on endless gulps of margaritas and Bloody Marys, than Lana’s family chauffeur, Mike, gently hauled us to our feet. Lana never failed to warn him whenever our adventures involved alcohol, because on nights like this, a steady hand was paramount. He was the one who collected the mess and ensured we made it home with our dignities only slightly bruised. It had always been this way—since college. However, I was always the responsible one. The voice of reason, the one who never tipped over the line …but tonight, that voice had gone silent, drowned beneath several quaffs of Bloody Marys. I let myself sink into the drunken stupor because I needed to. Because Jack was still lodged far too deeply under my skin, and I was desperate to shake him loose.

This wasn’t recklessness. It was primal.

And yet, even in my haze, I knew it for what it was...

Pure insanity.