Falling For My Boss's Brother

Jessey flung open her bedroom door and rushed into the neighboring bathroom. He lathered herself with soap as quickly as she could and scrubbed her skin to remove all evidence of the previous evening's occurrences. She tried to erase the memory of his fingers being inside of her, his kisses on hers, and his arms pulling her tight, but she couldn't.

It occurred to her that she had really apologized to him. She had sincerely apologized as she walked out the door. Her pain was pierced with righteous wrath. What was the significance of her apology? It was not her fault that this occurred. He was the reason she found herself in such a difficult predicament. If he had any morals, regardless of how dangerously beautiful she was, he would have ended her unsuccessful effort at wooing him the instant she slipped into his bed.

Jessey emerged from the shower. There was only one thing that could make her feel even slightly better right now.

She dashed into the spare bedroom she'd converted into a studio and grabbed a canvas from the back of the closet. She made a deliberate effort to relax before taking up her easel and painting the background with wide, sweeping strokes, laying the framework for the ultimate picture that would emerge from it.

Jessey took a few quiet, deep breaths before turning her whole concentration to the painting assignment at hand. There was nothing at first save her gestures of dipping her brush, moving it over the canvas, and blending the colors together.

As the painting developed, the picture eventually changed into a man's nude chest. It featured a terrific chest, big shoulders, and a tight waist, giving it a nice overall aspect. However, it was not a swimmer's physique like the one seen in the stock photo; there was too much weight in the muscles for that sort of lean strength to be developed.

She blinked her eyes closed. What made that chest seem to be seen before?

She screamed as she threw her brush across the room. This is really absurd. Jessey went for one of the spare sheets she had stashed in her closet to cover the carpet. She draped it over the painting in a methodical and concise way, then turned, exited the room, and softly closed the door behind her.

The following day would be a fresh start, and she'd deal with it then.

Despite her motivational speech, the memories continued to swarm on the rim of her consciousness.

Jessey shredded her napkin methodically, without looking up once. She could take her gaze away from the befuddled brunette at the other end of the table.

"You slept with..." Roxanne cast a brief check around and said. "You slept with Dodge?" Wow.

Jessey resumed shredding the strips into equally sized squares where she had left off. "No."

"I feared you'd gone insane."

Jessey blinked away tears as she gazed into Roxanne's green eyes. They were significantly more fascinating to her than her usual blue ones. And, yes, she was plainly postponing the inevitable. To summarize, "I didn't sleep with Dodge... well, almost. But whatever I went into bed with wasn't Dodge.

But it wasn't her fault that everything went wrong. Her position on the matter remained unshakable. There was no way she could have known Dodge hadn't touched her and started the fire.

As insightful as that was, she couldn't help but be irritated that her wicked body reacted to the mere mention of his face.

Despite her perfect tan, Roxanne seemed horribly pallid. "Honey, I think you should restart and give it another go."

"After Dodge stated that this weekend would be a good opportunity to work on a new design, I decided it was time to get started."

"I even went out and bought undergarments," she claimed.

"We're making terrific headway..."

"It would be better if her humiliation was revealed. Jessey drank her coffee and almost puked from the heat. Okay, so it's possible it wasn't her best idea. Saturday night wasn't either. I enticed him. I'm not sure, maybe something else. It didn't matter in the end since we were sharing a bed. Dodge? I thought it was him. It had been a fantastic experience. Simply amazing. She felt a tightness in her thighs as she remembered the feeling she experienced when Dodge-but it wasn't Dodge. I was almost in bed with a complete stranger, and that jerk almost let me."

Roxanne's eyes blinked when this occurred. Is that a foul word you just spoke, or am I seeing things?

Jessey, on the other hand, was too focused with her problems to notice that she had been profane. What approach would she use to face Dodge? What if he said anything about it? Oh my God. Today was going to be a double hockey stick day. What if he found out ahead of time and fired her as a result? She was obsessed with art galleries. It was critical that she did not lose it. "That's for sure, I'm dying with embarrassment. Isn't that an option? It had to be, since it's happening right now.

"You're overacting," she pointed out. If not Dodge, with whom did you sleep? She also frowned. "And just how did you manage to do that without realizing he was the wrong guy?" I ask.

The room was pitch dark due to a lack of light.

"Uh huh. A light switch is an extremely handy piece of equipment. It's enjoyable to try it out."

That method just "made more sense." Saying that aloud made it seem stupid, but it was true. If Dodge was going to reject her, she didn't want to see his face or let him see her almost naked.

When Jessey leapt back, she sat back down and covered her mouth with her hand.

But not right now. She could still feel his weight on her even now. So, what kind of man would let a stranger into his bed? He could have avoided it if he had stopped her.