Of course, I wanted to kiss him! I'd only been fantasizing about kissing him again for the last three fucking years! My sexless life had been quite satisfied with nights of closing my eyes and imagining it was Jesse when I got myself off. At one point, Haley had tried to talk me into naming my vibrator after him. I'd lost count of the number of wet dreams I'd had about him for at least four months after that night, and I was beginning to think I'd lost my mind, becoming so enthralled with a man I didn't know.

There were so many times that I'd wished we'd been going to the same city instead of bidding each other farewell in Chicago. I imagined that we could've gotten a hotel room together and made an entire night of the one-night stand we'd both craved. Instead, my last memories of him were departing the plane together, making awkward small talk in the terminal about how the New Year was going to be great, and parting ways at the end of the corridor to find our connecting flights. I had glanced over my shoulder a time or two, only to find that he was also looking back. That gradually disappearing image of him stealing a last look at me had stayed with me over the years. It was such a small, seemingly unimportant detail since he hadn't decided to chase after me like the typical rom-com lead would, but it had meant something to me. It still did.

I was still craving limitless intimacy with Jesse even three years later, and it was mind boggling to me that anyone could have such a long lasting effect on another person.

Instead of giving him a proper answer, I skirted around his question. "I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Reese."

He teased me with that damn sexy smirk again and I was reminded of the many times when I'd thought about dropping to my knees in front of him and giving him the best blowjob he'd ever had. I had no doubt he was concealing something very impressive in those black slacks.

"Yes." He said it so effortlessly, like he'd thought about it a million times, too. "I absolutely want to kiss you, Vanessa."

He stepped forward and his hands found my waist again, pulling my body flush against his. The air evaporated from my lungs and I held onto him like my legs were going to fail me.

"I want to do so much more than that," he whispered, his lips a mere inch from mine. "Tell me you feel the same way."

I didn't miss the teensiest quiver in his voice as he said it, like he knew the answer but he was afraid I'd tell him no anyway.

"I thought I was easy to read," I tried to joke, but my voice came out so miniscule, like I was stuck in a trance.

The corners of his mouth curved upward, but he didn't say anything. He was waiting for the greenlight like a gentleman.

How could I say no to this man after longing for more of him for years? I wanted – needed – this so badly, and I could feel that he did, too. Had he thought of me as often as I had thought about him over the years? Had he gotten off to fantasies about me, too? God, I hoped so.

"I've wanted to kiss you again for three fucking years," I admitted breathlessly, and then Jesse pressed his lips to mine in the most earthshattering kiss.

The whole gamut of feelings enveloped me. There were sparks, fireworks, and atomic bombs. My heart felt like it was trying to beat right out of my chest. My knees went weak and my head got fuzzy. I felt dizzy, but in a good way, if that could even make sense. It was exactly the way I'd felt when we'd kissed on the plane, except this time, it was a thousand times more intense. It was like Mount Saint Helens was erupting a fiery blast through each one of my nerve endings.

Jesse walked me backwards until we reached the couch in his office and he tilted me back, expertly managing to not break our kiss as he laid me down on the cushions and positioned himself above me.

Out of a habit that I hadn't known until that moment still existed, I reached for the buttons on his gray shirt and began to undo them with shaky hands. By the time I'd worked my fingers about halfway down the garment, I came to my senses.

"Jesse." I pressed my palms against his chest and pushed him back. "Jesse, stop."

He hovered over me, confused for a moment before moving away and sitting down beside my feet. He was out of breath, panting, and his hair was disheveled from my fingers running through it. The top half of his shirt lay open and I had to stop myself from staring at his chest.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked with concern in his eyes.

I shook my head and forced myself to look away. If I locked eyes with him for too long, I'd end up climbing onto his lap.

"You didn't do anything, Jesse," I swallowed and sat up, smoothing the wrinkles out of my clothes. "I just can't do this."

"Let me guess. 'It's not you, it's me?'" His words were biting and I could tell he felt like I'd lead him on only to push him away. "You're giving me mixed signals here, Vanessa. What's going through your head?"

I didn't want to say it out loud because it probably meant the end of whatever was potentially happening between us, but I knew it was for the best. I was sure of that much.

"Jesse, I'm your employee, your assistant. We can't do this." I tried to sound reasonable, like a responsible person.

I didn't have the slightest clue if he'd been thinking of extending whatever this was between us passed tonight, or if he'd simply planned on a for real one-night stand – the one we both wished had happened years ago. Regardless, neither could happen. It wasn't appropriate, given our relationship to one another. And acting on feelings like that could only lead to more complicated emotions. Not to mention, there was that pesky detail about how I didn't want to commit to anyone or get my heart broken again; and whether he meant to be or not, I knew Jesse was a heartbreaker.

"I don't care about any of that right now, Vanessa," he told me and reached out to gently grasp my hand, causing a zing of electricity to shoot up my forearm.

"You said this was against company policy," I reminded him.

"I'm the C.E.O. I can break the rules whenever I want."

It wasn't a douche-y statement. It was matter of fact. I was learning pretty fast that Jesse Reese was a tough negotiator, and some crazy part of me actually hoped he would win this argument.

"Touché." I shrugged. "But I have my own set of rules for myself that I'd rather not break."

Rules like don't have a one-night stand with anyone. Period. Because no matter who it was or how it happened or ended, I would find some ridiculous way to get even the tiniest bit attached, and then I would be hurt when the night was over and the man was gone. Or, on the other hand, if it was Jesse, I wouldn't be able to avoid him unless I quit my job – something I wasn't willing to do – and then the attachment would grow, and being around him every single day would be a miserable fate to battle.

"Care to enlighten me?" Jesse asked, resting an arm against the top of the couch.

"Rules like 'don't fuck my boss'," I clarified.

Okay, maybe fucking was a little farfetched. Jesse probably hadn't intended for our escapade to go that far. Surely, he would've stopped me once my hands had reached his belt... Right...?

There was that damn smirk again. Something about it made me want to leap across the couch and rip the rest of the buttons off his shirt while I straddled him and made out with him like my life depended on it. On the other hand, I also wanted to slap the cocky grin right off his gorgeous face.

A flicker of deviousness danced in his eyes as he studied me. "What's wrong with fucking your boss, Miss Hamilton?"

For a moment, my mouth went dry and I couldn't give him an answer. But once I broke eye contact, my brain seemed to start functioning again.

"Well, for one, we'd be sneaking around and trying to keep a secret relationship from everyone, assuming this would go beyond one night. And we've all seen how well that shit ends in the movies. Everyone always ends up finding out. And quite frankly, I don't want anyone thinking I'm the type of slutty assistant who would sleep with her boss to climb the business ladder."

Jesse seemed bothered by my last sentence and he moved closer to me with concern in his hypnotizing eyes. "I don't think that about you at all..."

"Other people might see it differently," I stressed. "I'm trying to build a good reputation."

A reputation completely contradictory to the one I'd sported back in Dallas...

Depressing memories infiltrated my mind then. Memories like the way I had been treated by employees of Brad's father's company who knew who I was and despised me simply because they knew I had been promised a cushy job alongside Brad without having to work my way up like the rest of them. And then there were the assholes I worked with at the accounting firm who didn't even have the common decency to talk bad about me behind my back. No, there had been numerous occasions when my coworkers had been chatting away just feet from my cubicle about how it sickened them that I was going to leave the firm for a job I didn't deserve at the tech company. According to them, I'd only scored the position because I spent too much time with my legs wrapped around the C.E.O.'s son's waist.

What a reputation I had garnered. The exact one I refused to have pinned on my name again. And while I wanted to believe that my new coworkers at Advantage weren't the kind of people who would turn on me the way my coworkers at the firm had, the fact remained that I had been friends with the majority of my former coworkers who had resigned to hating my guts. There was no guarantee that the same scenario wouldn't happen all over again if anyone at Advantage were to find out about Jesse and me. That's why there couldn't be a Jesse and me.

"Your reputation isn't at stake here. I won't let it be."

I looked at him incredulously. "What? Are you telling me you're going to find some magical way to prevent anyone from finding out about us if we were to go through with this? You can't promise that, Jesse. That's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is feeling what we just felt for each other a few minutes ago and pushing it aside like it doesn't exist. You can't tell me you didn't relish in every second of those kisses, and you damn sure can't tell me you don't want more than making out with me."

I didn't like the feeling of being put in my place. I hated when I was arguing with someone who was right. But I was right, too, damnit! How the fuck were we supposed to reach a resolution when we were both correct?

I then took the opportunity to explain to Jesse the story of my bad reputation in Texas. If nothing else I had said made sense to him, maybe that would be the explanation he needed to admit defeat in our back and forth banter. I chose not to tell him about The Bradley Chronicles, though. There was no need to open that can of worms.

When I was finished with my depressing spiel of shitty memories, I finally met his gaze, having stared a burning hole through the floor the entire time I'd been speaking. I was surprised to find him looking so... sorry? Sad? I wasn't sure what to call it. But the understanding in his eyes was enough to tell me I didn't need to say anything more. He'd conceded.

"Goodnight, Jesse," I said quietly, and left him sitting alone on the couch as I padded out of the room and back to my office, a strong feeling of remorse clinging to my body.