Rich People Problems

xxxii | bluestars

KIMBERLY

"DO YOU THINK turkeys want to slaughter us on Thanksgiving?" I asked innocently, standing in Jace's doorway while he was getting ready.

His hand paused on the third button on his shirt before his head swiveled to me with that look of disbelief. After a few seconds of processing, he shrugged. "If I was a turkey, I would want to."

I nodded. "Your responses have gotten better."

"I'm learning to expect the unexpected," he replied, tugging his suit jacket on.

"Your reaction time could be better." I walked closer, checking myself out in the mirror. "Is this too much for Thanksgiving with your mom?"

"I don't think there's an appropriate reaction time to being asked if turkeys think about mass murder, Kimberly," he snarked. "And you look... beautiful."

"I know."

He rolled his eyes, but I knew I was growing on him. In the last few weeks, the two of us have been fucking nonstop. The previous months of sexual frustration made me horny all the time, and Jace had no problem obliging, even though we spent most of our time at the office.

But one thing remained the same. During sex and in our everyday lives, I managed to make him speechless with my intrusive thoughts and insults.

Regardless, he'd opened up a lot more about his childhood and mom. I occasionally relented pieces of information about myself, but it was so miniscule, I could tell it frustrated him.

Call it trauma, but I couldn't find it in myself to be open like that.

"So, what's the plan today again?" I asked, retucking my cream sweater into my brown leather skirt.

"We're going to your parents house first, then driving to Philly to see Mom and Emre's family," he replied, tugging on my arm so I could stop messing with my hair. "Hurry up or we'll be late."

"One of these days, you'll realize how little those words mean to me," I smiled brightly, keeping my ground.

Shaking his head, he lowered himself and threw my body over his shoulder, my ass sticking up in the air. My instant reaction was to start slapping his back. But the man had muscles, annoyingly so. He didn't budge at all, resorting to spanking my butt once.

"Don't."

"Put me down, Jace," I warned, still thrashing. Again, he simply ignored me and continued to walk down the stairs. Before I knew it, he placed me onto the couch and gave me a stern stay put look.

"Where are your shoes?"

I pointed in the direction of my room and Jace immediately started walking. "Don't forget my hat too! I need it for my outfit!" I yelled out.

In two minutes, he was at the top of the stairs with my custom tan suede red-bottom boots that tied at the top and the wrong hat.

"That's the wrong hat!" I yelled again. I wanted the brown beret, but he was holding a tan plaid newsboy cap. They both worked, theoretically, but I had a vision.

"Shut up. It matches," he replied, making his way down the stairs.

I remained scowling as he got down on his knees before me and began working the thigh-high boots up. The skin touched by his large, warm fingers was set aflame, and just like that, I was in the mood again. It was dangerous how I didn't think it was possible to get enough of him.

I could tell by the soft caress of his fingers that Jace felt it too. His lips lightly touched the exposed skin of my thigh above the bow he just tied in a soft kiss. "You have the smoothest legs," he whispered, his breath warming my skin.