The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Chapter 40

“Something wrong?” he asks while studying my face. I put my head down and head into the kitchen, switching on the kettle, avoiding him. Willing my burning face to cool down; I know I’m probably blushing like mad.

“No.” I answer over brightly and focus on getting the mugs ready.

“You’re acting weird, shorty … What gives?” he’s frowning. Noticing it from the corner of my eye, I carry on with what I’m doing; the blood has rushed to my face even more so now and I am mildly freaking out. Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’m just making coffee.” I shrug, trying to appear normal.

Jesus, Jake, leave me be. Stay back.

“Look at me then,” he commands. I tense and glance up, pasting a fake smile on my lips. Raising eyebrows before returning to what I’m doing, the heat radiating all over me and return quickly to looking at anything but him but that is so hard to do in a space this small.

“Okay … What did I do?” he crosses his arms menacingly, his biceps bulging, the stubborn Carrero look plastered all over him. I think I may faint.

“Nothing.” I laugh nervously. I drop the spoon and spill coffee granules everywhere with fumbling hands.

Shit.

“Spill, Anderson … I’ll torture it out of you. You know I will.” He walks toward me with a look that means business and I cave weakly. If I let him get too close, I may self-combust. I may actually pass out right in front of him.

I need to calm my hormones down.

“We kissed,” I squeak as he gets dangerously close to touching me. Then I hide behind my loose hair as shame envelopes me tenfold. I can’t tell him that I practically molested him in his sleep. That we were dry humping and I know what he feels like turned on and pushed up against me.

“I’ve been known to do more than kiss in my sleep.” He laughs. No hint of shock at all. “They call it ‘Sexsomnia’. It happens very rarely. It’s like a form of sleepwalking.” He shrugs it off, obviously in acceptance of this quirk of his.

Only Jake would have a manly sex related sleeping disorder. Well, that explains a lot!

He comes to stand beside me, and I try not to shrink.

“Are you mad at me?” his breath warms my neck, indicating how close he is. I tense and move away to get more coffee from the cupboard, glad of the reason to move away. He has no idea that internally my body is acting like a pubescent teen after her first sexual experience.

“No … it was …you were asleep.” I have no idea what to say.

Do I admit that I was the one who started it? That I liked it.

My heart’s pounding through my chest, his proximity making breathing difficult suddenly, in a way I have never reacted to him.

“Well, that’s not fair … You get to have a memory, but I have none … I demand a re-enactment.” There’s humor in his voice as his hand catches my shirt from behind, pulling me back against him softly, his mouth by my ear. “How about a replay, Anderson? Literally make my dreams come true.”

I swat him away, pulling myself free, my skin burning and shame swamping me. I should have known he would react this way. Casanova Carrero! He makes a joke about everything, so why not this?

I can’t help myself. I giggle, relieving some of the tension at his playfulness, the usual flirty Jake while still trying to twist free from the body I’m a little too sensitive to.

“Go away.” I scald lightly as he tries to capture me again, this time holding my wrists in front of me so I can’t get away from him. My body held taught, his mouth by my ear, he has my back pressed to his abdomen.

God!

“I want a second take so I can at least say I remember that time I made out with you in my sleep.” His husky voice sends tremors through my stomach. I wriggle free and he lets me go, grinning wildly. He tilts his head boyishly. “At least this time you’re smiling about it, Bella.”

I turn to look at him knowing my face is probably puce from top to bottom, met with the relaxed easy look on his face. I shake my head and tilt it to the side to match his. His mentioning the kitchen kiss in such a blasé way makes me feel calmer. I wish I had his ability to brush things like this off so easily. Make it all out to be nothing except forgettable misdemeanors. I guess when you’ve had more bedroom romps than hot meals, it’s easy. This really is nothing to him at all.

“I can’t be mad about things you do while unconscious.” I lie, fully mindful that this is all on me. A secret I’ll never tell him. He stops for a moment taking in my face, his smile slipping as something registers in his mind and my insides somersault.

“You said “We” kissed? Not that I kissed you … So, you kissed me back?” he moves forward, closing the gap between us, his face now serious. All humor gone. I gulp and hesitate, unsure how to answer.

Crap. Fuck. Shit.

I look down at what I’m doing, inhaling sharply, thoughts scrambling in panic at how to answer him now. My mouth dries up.

Please don’t, Jake! Don’t go there.

“Morning.” Sophie’s tired voice comes out from behind Jake’s all-consuming stance, and she wanders into view dressed in a fluffy onesie with rabbit ears on the hood. Her presence makes me sag with relief. I have never been so happy to have a third person show up in my life and save me from Jake’s burning gaze.

“What time is it?” she yawns loudly, and I grab the opportunity to dive away from Jake toward the toaster as his attention is diverted.

“Just after six” Jake answers, turned toward her. I catch his eye as he turns back, a moment passes between us. I know that look; it’s his “we’ll come back to that” look, before he fully turns his attention to Sophie.

“Why you up this early?” he goes on. I blow out as a knot of apprehension rises inside of me, knowing that I haven’t dodged the bullet fully.

“Nightmares,” she says softly, and we connect visually, kindred in so many ways. I throw her an understanding smile and she gives one back acknowledging it. Jake seems to notice the look, but says nothing, just a hint of narrowed eyes and thoughtful lip chewing before it fleets away. His sharp, keen focus never misses a beat.

“So, we’re all up at the crack of dawn it seems.” I inject over brightly. I finish making three mugs of coffee and slide two towards them on the counter.

“Looks that way,” Sophie sighs as they both lift their mugs.

“Are you going to see your mom today before you go?” she asks innocently but I throw her a warning look that equates to “not in front of Jake”.

“No. Sophie. I said everything I had to say to her yesterday … I wish you would reconsider coming with me today,” I plead. I don’t like the thought of leaving her here alone at such a young age.

“Your mom’s going to be discharged in a day or two, Emma, I’ll be okay.” She looks determined. Jake looks to me, then her, confusion on his face. I hadn’t yet told him of Sophie’s plan to stay here another week.

“She’s following us in seven days.” I point out to him and see the twitch in the corner of his eye briefly; he doesn’t like this idea but knows it’s not his place to say anything. His jaw tenses, he gets up, and leaves the room for a few minutes. I know him too well; he’s walking off, so he doesn’t say exactly what he’s thinking.

“Sophie … Yesterday a man called Ray Vanquis came here. I know he’s the one who did this. He was very aggressive; he may come back.” I tell her, scared to divulge the full story in case it makes her afraid. Maybe I should, so that she’ll come with us today after all. She swallows hard, her eyes shifting to the window, she looks nervous.

“Your mom told me not to tell you it was him,” she replies softly, and I nod, indicating I already guessed that.

“He won’t come here until she gets out,” she adds hastily. I want to point out that he already did, but her expression hushes me. For a moment she looks so young and uncertain that my throat catches with emotion. I can’t leave her here alone. The thought of him coming back when she’s here by herself makes me tense up. I hadn’t thought about this fact. I realize she’s staring at me and I assume my expression is betraying me.

“I don’t want to go until you come too, Sophie.” I sound uptight. Suddenly unsure about what to do. Insides tying me up in knots.