Chapter 11: Jealousy & Emotional Crack

Morning sun slanted sharp through the kitchen blinds at 9:07 a.m., slicing across the marble counter where two half-empty coffee mugs still steamed. Jake stood barefoot in loose gray shorts, the faint red marks from yesterday’s silk scarves still visible on his wrists like faint reminders of how completely she had owned him. He poured fresh brew, the rich bitter aroma curling up, when Mia’s phone buzzed once against the stone.

The preview glowed bright: Hey gorgeous, still up for those drinks after the client meeting? You looked insane in that pencil skirt 😏 – Alex (design dept)

His stomach dropped like a stone through still water. The same counter he had bent her over just weeks ago, the same table where he had claimed her while the rules still pretended to matter. Alex. The name sat sour on his tongue. He pictured some polished coworker seeing her the way only he was allowed—laughing at her sharp wit, eyes lingering on the sway of her hips when she walked. The contract had screamed no jealousy talks, yet the thought of anyone else tasting even a fraction of what belonged to him ignited something raw and territorial in his chest.

Mia padded in humming, wearing nothing but his oversized hoodie, sleeves swallowing her hands, hem skimming the soft underside of her ass. Sleep still softened her features, cheeks pink from the long night of being edged and taken. She reached for her phone without noticing the shift in the air.

Jake’s hand closed over hers faster than thought. “Who the hell is Alex,” he said, voice low and edged with gravel, “and why does he think he gets to call you gorgeous?”

Her eyes widened, but the corner of her mouth twitched in that familiar challenge. “It’s just work, Jake. Harmless flirting. You know how the design team gets.”