Rock Star Billionaire

Riley would not be the one to pay the price for my mother's pain.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jack

When I got home from work, I pulled on my running gear and went out to clear my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about Leah's lips on mine, and how badly I'd wanted to do more than just kiss her. I'd been chastising myself for not taking advantage of her forwardness, but there was something in me that knew better than to do that.

The question was why had I held back?

I'd never been shy about sex with anyone, Sloan notwithstanding, but she was a whole different matter. I'd always enjoyed sex anywhere and everywhere I'd wanted it, so not following my desire this afternoon — especially after Sloan had gotten me worked up — was confusing. As I ran, I told myself that the reason I'd held back was because I didn't know what Leah wanted and I didn't want to risk any kind of accusations of impropriety.

"I want out of this damn business," I exhaled as I ran. "I don't need to get tied up in a problematic office romance."

Satisfied with my rationalization, I turned and headed back towards home. On the way back, I tried to come up with a way to keep Sloan at a distance. I didn't mind serving her needs every now and again, but it was going to become problematic if she started pushing the boundaries. I could draw all the boundaries I wanted, but when it came down to it, she was still an attractive woman who turned me on, and even I had limits. I came up with a solution that I thought would work, and as I ran up the front drive, I felt satisfied that I'd solved the two most pressing issues.

As I rounded the drive, I saw Sloan's car parked in front of the house and groaned inwardly. I'd been looking forward to meeting up with Brittany, one of the attractive young women who'd accompanied me to the Mediterranean, at a club in Brooklyn. I figured it would kill two birds with one stone by getting me out of the house for a night of fun and relaxation, and, hopefully, release some sexual tension. This threw a wrench in the plan.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out as I entered the sitting room, still sweaty from my run.

"Well, hello, darling," my mother smiled. "Look who stopped by to visit!"

"I see. What are you doing here, Sloan?" I repeated as I stared pointedly at her.

"Is that any way to greet your business partner?" she asked as she turned and looked up at me. With her back to my mother, she gave me the once over with her hungry roving eyes then licked her lips as she stared at my crotch. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to control the response she was looking to generate, so I moved back toward the hall.

"I'm going to go shower," I said.

"Will you join us for dinner, Jack?" my mother asked. "Sloan is staying and the cook made your favorite!"

I rolled my eyes, but didn't respond. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, yet, but by the time I'd showered and changed, I knew there was no way in hell I was going to leave Sloan alone with my mother.

All through dinner, Sloan made subtle comments about what a great partnership we had and how well we worked together.

"You two do make a lovely coupled, dear," my mother said, smiling across the table at me. "Yo

ur father would have absolutely approved."

"I see," I said, looking down at the poached salmon and steamed asparagus on my plate. My mother was right, it was my favorite, but tonight I didn't feel much like eating. "Well, you know how much his approval means to me."

"Don't be rude, dear," my mother scolded as she held up her wine glass for a refill. "We have a guest."

"Sloan isn't a guest, she's like family, Mother," I said sticking a fork into the fish as I decided to eat, hungry or not. "Besides, she knows what a miserable bastard Pop was. Don't you, Sloan? Mother drinks to cover it all up, but we know the truth."

"Jack, there's no need to be rude," Sloan said quietly as she ate her dinner.

The rest of the meal was passed with uncomfortable small talk as my mother proceeded to drink herself into a state of numbness yet again. I watched as Sloan carried the conversation as best she could, and once the dishes were cleared, I excused myself. Sloan followed me to the front hallway.

"Why do you have to be so miserable to your mother?" she whispered. "Don't you think she's suffered enough?"

"Why are we all pretending that my father was a wonderful man who left nothing but happy memories for us all?" I shot back. "I'm sick of the lies. Can't you see how miserable she is? It's been that way for years."

"You're just mad because you're pent up," she said, sliding her hand between my thighs and feeling me instantly respond.

"Stop it, Sloan," I growled. "This is unacceptable."

"This is?" she asked as she rubbed my crotch and felt me harden at her touch. "Are you sure?"

"Sloan …" I warned. "Knock it off!"