After some awkward one-handed maneuvering, she managed to get the paint and supplies loaded into her car. She detoured a little on the drive home, finding out of the way places she’d probably seen once or twice before and always meant to go back to. She was turning down a street she was sure would lead her back to her route home when she spotted the small storefront.
Krav Maga stood out, in bold black letters, followed by a phone number. Curious, she pulled over and got out. A brochure pasted in the window boasted the benefits of practicing Krav Maga, and the more she read, the more she itched to yank open the door and demand a session. She’d known it was an intense, street-fighting style martial art. From the way the brochure made it sound, it would be well suited for her needs.
The self-defense classes she’d taken years ago were fogged by distance. Brushing up was one more way to feel safe.
She tried the door, only to find it was locked. It was just as well. She had a car full of paint to unload, and she needed to put some more ice on her hand. It was as swollen as it had been that morning. She entered the number for the training center into her phone and walked back to her car.
Her smile was grim as she eased away from the curb. Sam wasn’t going to knock her down again.
Chapter Twelve
“I was going to get to it, you know.” Jeremy sauntered into Sara’s office and boosted a hip on the edge of her desk, stretching out a hand to flick through her pens.
No eye rolling. Eye rolling bad. She drew in a breath, let it out slowly, and chose her words with care. “If you’ve got too much on your plate, you need to let me know. I can pick up some of it.” It was a variation of what she’d said to Larry the first time. As much as she wanted to rip into Jeremy for his incompetence, he’d probably just go complaining to Larry, and that was the last thing she wanted. She stretched her lips in a faint smile. “Mr. Tanner’s happy, and that’s what’s important.” Or happier. She wasn’t sure how much longer they’d be able to hold onto his business, what with Jeremy mucking up the proceedings.
Jeremy shrugged, and she bit back a curse. “What did you do to your hand?” He bent forward so his nose was inches away from her still swollen knuckles. She made a noncommittal noise and edged her hand away. Somehow “I was picturing the wall as your face” didn’t seem appropriate at the moment. “Wow. You really messed it up, didn’t you?”
He’d eased forward again, impinging on her personal space. “It’s not so bad.” She could use it today, which was more than she could say for yesterday. Work today had proven slow and difficult, and she was anticipating a late night date with her office computer.
She made the mistake of glancing up, and Jeremy’s face was close to hers, his pale blue eyes alight with something she didn’t want to think about. “Please move,” she said mildly, belying her rapidly building heart rate. He was much, much too close. “Jeremy—”
“Oh, c’mon. I owe you one, for covering for me with Tanner,” he murmured. Her stomach clenched in disgust. Jeremy had never hit on her before, or at least, never overtly. She’d caught him checking out her tits or her ass on occasion, and he’d sometimes wink or give her a sly smile. It annoyed her and occasionally infuriated her when combined with his latest gaffe, but she’d never been uncomfortable around him until today.
“No, I’m pretty sure you don’t. He’s my client, too. I was only doing my job.” She was going to start shaking in a second. Or screaming. Too close. Too, too close. Her heart was about to pound right out of her chest.
“Sara, do you have the file on MacArthur?”
Jeremy snapped back as though he’d been punched. She wished he had. The image of a fist smashing into the side of his face was quite comforting.
Taylor leaned on the doorjamb, his face impassive. When he saw he had their attention, he straightened and walked into her office. “Well?”
She didn’t know who MacArthur was unless he was referring to a Genius grant, but she played along. “I think I’ve got it somewhere.” She pulled out her middle desk drawer and started rifling through the files.
“I’ll stop by later.” Jeremy stood so quickly he sent some loose papers skittering to the floor. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Taylor bend over and scoop up the papers as Jeremy backed away. She sat up as Taylor followed him to the door and shut it behind him.
“Taylor. Open the door.”
“No.” He strode across the room and yanked her out of her chair, claiming her mouth.
Insistent was the word that came to mind as she melted against him. His mouth was insistent, and she craved it, craved more, whimpering as his tongue invaded and swept through. Need spiked and flooded her veins. She wound her arms around his neck, meeting his demands with her own. Tongues dancing and sliding, all sultry heat and promise, she nipped into his top lip before tilting her head to give him access to her neck.
He circled her around, backing and lifting her so her butt was on the edge of the desk, skirt hitching around her hips. As tight as it was, she couldn’t get him as close as she wanted, and she growled in frustration, clawing at his back, fingers sliding off the stiff cloth of his shirt.
Her hands streaked up and latched onto his hair, dragging his mouth back up to hers. Fire raced through her and gathered low in her belly. It needed an outlet. His mouth branded hers, over and over, scorching her and egging her on.
Gasping, she jerked his head back, breaking the seal on their kiss. “Next time you decide to go all jealous alpha male on me, wait until we can both get naked. You can’t kiss me like that in the office.” She pushed at him, creating a few more inches of space so she could slide off the desk. Stalking over to the window, she pressed her forehead to it in an attempt to cool down.
“What makes you think I’m jealous?”
She scowled at the window. “Oh, I don’t know, the way you practically goose-stepped Jeremy out the door? Closing it behind him? Ten bucks says you locked it, too. And then you swoop in and kiss me senseless.” She turned her cheek to the glass, shivering at the jolt of coldness and shutting her eyes. That kiss. That kiss. If that was a preview of coming attractions, she was tempted to skip out on work and dive right into bed with him. She squeaked in pain when Taylor tugged on her injured hand. “You and your ninja stealth skills.”
He ignored her, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Swelling’s gone down. How was it yesterday?”
“Unpleasant. My fingers were like sausages.”
Rub, rub, rub. “Jealousy’s pointless.”
“Uh huh,” she said dryly. “Which completely explains why you tried to ravish me on my desk a moment ago.”
His thumb stilled. “Did I scare you?”
She shook her head. “Caught me by surprise, but you didn’t scare me.” He lifted her hand to his lips, and she sighed like some kind of love struck idiot. She wasn’t going to get anything done today. Thoughts of being productive and catching up on the day she’d missed scattered like dust. “You need to go, bud.” He raised a brow, turned her hand over, and kissed her palm. “I have work to catch up on.”
“Come home with me tonight.”
Her breath caught in her lungs. Yes. No. It was fast, too fast. It was exactly what she needed. She stared at him, mouth dry. She wanted him. He wanted her, and he’d been nothing but patient. She knew beyond a doubt that if she wanted to take this slowly, they would.
She was afraid if she continued to take things slowly, old doubts and fears would stop her from moving forward.
Another kiss on the inside of her wrist, his eyes never leaving hers. “For dinner,” he said quietly. “Just dinner. Maybe a movie, though I’m gonna have to insist on explosions.”
Her heart sank even as relief loosened the tight knot in her chest. Nothing would happen tonight beyond some bone-melting kisses.
Unless she made it clear she wanted more.
She nodded and swayed into him. He kissed her carefuly, softly, and she fo
ught against it, craving the heat. “I’m not going to break,” she whispered as she eased back.
He had her trapped against the window before she could draw breath. She arched off the cool glass and into him, his hands palming her ass. His kisses seared the skin of her neck. He dragged her under, again and again, drowning her in lust. The erection pressing into her belly had nerves dancing to life. “Stop stop stop.” Her fingers clamped down on his forearms, and she let out a hiss as pain shot through her swollen hand. The teasing was quickly slipping beyond her grasp. He’d have her begging in a few minutes. Her forehead came to rest on his chest, air coming in short pants. They were going to kill each other. For two people who hadn’t registered a mutual attraction a few months before, the chemistry between them was a bomb waiting to go off.
Cool air rushed over her front as he stepped back. “Dinner,” he repeated. “Anything else is up to you.”
* * *
Kaylin planted herself in front of Sara’s desk. “You owe me.”
She stifled a groan. “Why’s that?” She slid her mouse around, eyes on her monitor. Maybe if she looked busy Kaylin would leave.
“You and Taylor, of course. And don’t tell me there’s no ‘you and Taylor,’ because there so obviously is. You guys have been spending a lot of time together. A lot. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about it.” Kaylin actually sounded hurt, the emotion reflected on her face.
The easiest way to get rid of Kaylin, she’d discovered, was to give her what she wanted. Kaylin wasn’t a horrible person. She just wasn’t Sara’s type of person. She sat back in her chair as she studied the other woman.
“There isn’t a lot to tell. Ah, ah, don’t give me that look, it’s true.” Kaylin’s mouth snapped shut when she held up her hand. “Taylor and I have become friends over the last few months, yes. Beyond that, neither of us really know what’s going on, and we like it that way.”
Kaylin’s response was cut off by Jeremy looming in the doorway. His smile was this side of oily, and Sara suppressed the urge to gag. He took generic good looks and added a touch of “ick” to them, and the end result was a decent guy trying to be charming who came off as a frat boy date rapist.
Kaylin, on the other hand, was eating it up. With a spoon. “Hiiii, Jeremy!” Kaylin abandoned her post of half-sitting, half-leaning against Sara’s desk. The need to gag was replaced with the need to sigh in frustration, and she pushed that aside as well. She was getting visitor chairs. There was probably a form or something she had to complete to get them, but if people kept using her desk as a seat, she’d do as much paperwork as necessary to keep all those asses off it.
Jeremy’s smile dulled a bit as he returned Kaylin’s greeting, brightening once again when he refocused on Sara. She gave him her standard friendly smile and folded her hands in her lap. “Jeremy. What can I do for you?”
“I came back to see about that favor I owed you.” Crap. She’d really hoped Taylor’s presence had made him forget about it. Jeremy gestured to Kaylin. “Could you give us a minute?”
Kaylin’s smile fell so fast it was comical. “Sure,” she grumbled. With one last longing look at Jeremy, she slunk from the room. Thankfully, she left the door open.
“Jeremy, I told you. It was no big deal. You don’t owe me anything.” Please leave. Please, please leave. Her chest constricted as he came around the desk and eased up on the edge in front of her. Yeah, she definitely needed visitor chairs.
She rolled her chair back and stood, walking to the window. And damn him, he followed. “You’ve been working so hard lately. You should let me buy you a drink. Relax.”
“I’m fine.” Hopefully he didn’t notice the tremor in her voice. “Jeremy, I want you to stop. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
He reached out to touch her, and she batted his hand aside. The bastard continued undeterred, though he kept his hands to himself. “We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well, don’t you think?”
No, she didn’t think. “Jeremy, again, I would like you to leave.”
“Hey, relax. I’d like to get to know you outside of work. Is that so bad?” His eyes were wide and guileless, and this time when he lifted a hand, she stepped back, out of his reach.
“I’m not interested. I don’t want to mix business with personal.”
His face went hard. “Really? So why haven’t you told Taylor that?”
Why was everyone interested in her relationship, or non-relationship, with Taylor all of a sudden? “That’s none of your business. Besides, Taylor and I don’t share nearly as many clients as you and I do. I know I’ve made myself clear — I would like you to leave me alone. I need to get back to work, and you’re blocking my computer.” She moved to the door and stood next to it, waiting.
To her relief, Jeremy glared at her and stalked out of her office. Shutting the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath. Jeremy was going to continue to be a pain in her ass. The heavy feeling in her stomach couldn’t lie.
She took out her mp3 player and stuck the ear buds in her ears. If she had any hope of salvaging the workday, she needed to get to work. Turning up the volume, she shut her eyes as Lostprophets blasted her eardrums, sinking into the place where she could shut everything out. Nosy and annoying coworkers, angry clients, the uncertainty of job hunting, and the anticipation of Taylor naked and pinning her to the bed.
She was going to have sex again. Maybe today. Maybe in a few weeks. She was going to have sex with Taylor. She hoped she didn’t screw it up by freaking out on him.
Sex with Sam, toward the end, had always been quiet, tender, gentle, as though he could use the act to clear away the outbursts and tantrums. Like he wanted to reassure her he loved her and would never in a million years cause her pain. If sex was going to be like that, she’d rather use her hand.
She wanted everything; hard and fast, sweet and slow. She wanted the tenderness and the laughter and the feeling of being so wrapped up in someone she couldn’t tell where she left off and he began. She wanted all the trust and the emotion the act symbolized, the intimacy of it.
The weeks spent getting to know Taylor had given her a solid foundation to build on. She was learning to trust him. She knew they’d get there. It was just a matter of when.
It took another song full of angsty aggression for her to clear her mind enough to focus. She pulled up her proposal template and set to work, her flow hampered by her sore hand.
The figures slid into place, rounded out by the pitch, her plan for the client and how to make the product work for them and allow them to grow. A familiar ache took up residence between her shoulders. She didn’t let it stop her.
Hours stretched out, and she jumped when her phone rattled across her desktop. Snatching it up before it could go on ringing, she glanced at the screen as she pulled the ear bud from her ear. Another blocked number. “Hello?”
Nothing.
She frowned, jerking the bud from her other ear. “Hello?”
No white noise, no heavy breathing. Only a heavy blanket of silence. She checked the phone screen. The call hadn’t dropped. Someone was definitely on the other end. As she brought the phone back to her ear, said hello for the third time, there was a rustling and a click, and when she pulled the phone away the call had ended.
Sam couldn’t contact her without violating parole and the order. Would he do something like this, risk his freedom, all to call her and not say a word?
She set the phone aside. It was an excellent reminder she needed to speak with the local police about the protection order. She entered a note into her phone to call them in the morning and see if she could locate her copy of the order after she got home tonight.
Her hand aching, she shut down her computer for the day and tossed her phone and mp3 player into her bag. Taylor had promised her dinner. So she’d have dinner with him and see how the evening developed.
Taylor was putting on his coat when she stepped into his office. He smiled as he came toward her. “Yo
u ready?”
She nodded. Needing to touch him, she held out her uninjured hand, hoping he’d take it. He did. He laced their fingers together and they hurried out the door and down the hall to the elevator.
Heart thundering, she watched the doors close. If she wanted anything tonight beyond what he’d offered, she’d have to ask for it. She just needed to decide if she wanted anything more.
Chapter Thirteen
Weeks of getting to know Sara clued Taylor in to the gradual change in her as they got closer to his apartment. She was nervous. Maybe a little afraid, but definitely nervous. Asking her to his place for dinner might not have been such a great idea. He’d meant it, though. He wanted to make her dinner. Nothing else was going to happen unless she wanted it, and he was starting to wonder if he should draw a line, leave it at dinner.
There was no doubt they’d end up in bed. He could wait as long as it took.
He led her through the parking lot of his building to the lobby, taking her hand for the simple pleasure of it. It was small, yet fit his perfectly. He bypassed the elevator for the stairs, trying to keep temptation at bay by climbing them beside her instead of allowing her to go in front of him. No need to torture himself by staring at her ass.
Her sweet, perfect ass.
Her hand tightened on his as they entered the hallway, walking down until they were at his door. Squeezing it once, he let them inside.
She took in the living room as she shrugged out of her coat, then faced him, her nerves still evident, but mixed with something else. A couple of something elses. Desire. Determination. She stepped into him and slid her hands up his chest, tipping her head back. “Taylor?”
He splayed his hands across her back, the warm silk of her hair tickling his skin. “Yeah?”
She dropped her gaze to his mouth, flicked it back up to his eyes. “I don’t want to go slow.”
Jesus. He’d known it would happen. He honestly didn’t believe it would be tonight, not even after the kisses they’d shared in her office. He glided a hand up to cup the back of her head. “Sara—”
Hidden Scars Page 10
