by Kira Blakely
Her panties came off with a quick jerk. His mouth found her nipples. Hope’s head fell back, and her fingers dug into his scalp as she wriggled, trying to get a better perch on the slippery granite that topped the vanity.
Her feet banged against the outer doors of the cabinet as he let his fingers find her slippery and soaked lips and then her swollen and pulsing clit. He rubbed her clit hard, and she whimpered, her toes digging into the sides of his legs as she tried to get him closer, tried to pull him into her body.
His hand went to his pocket of his slacks. He found his wallet and then a condom.
He fumbled, and she took it and began to unfurl it as he continued to work her clit, manipulating it until she was shivering and shaking, and very close to coming.
He entered her just as she did begin to come. His fingers stayed on her clit. His powerful hips plunged back and forth as he fucked her hard, while her walls fluttered and opened around his thick and pounding staff.
Trying to be quiet was hard. Hope wanted to cry out, to shout her pleasure into the room, but his mouth was back on hers, and she was left breathless and dizzy by the force of his thrust and kisses as he pounded into her again and again.
It was so good. So damn good, and all she wanted was to feel him deep inside her all night long, but he was moving faster, his breath coming in and out of his mouth and into hers in a pattern that told her he was very close to coming, too.
He did. His body went rigid, and he ground his teeth together so hard she heard his molars squeaking. He shuddered a few times, and she felt his cock twitching as he shot a load of hot and creamy come into the condom.
They had to take a few minutes. Jackson braced himself on the counter, his palms flattened on either side of her hips, and his face buried in her chest. He finally backed away. He said, “I have to say that was the highlight of my night.”
Her desire crashed to the ground. Damn it, why had she done this?
Because he had turned her on so much, and it had been a while since she had had sex.
Hope hopped off the counter and frantically began to gather her clothes. His words had been like a stream of cold water, and she dressed hastily, not speaking as he flushed the condom and handed over her shoes.
She slid them on. They looked at each other. Jackson said, “I know I am supposed to say something right now, but you look either really pissed off or I am imagining you look pissed off and I don’t know how to react to that.”
“I am pissed off, but not at you.” She peered in the mirror and sighed at the mess her hair was in. She managed to rake her fingers through it until it attained some semblance of order. As she did so, she said, “I mean who does this kind of thing? For real. It’s a party for my best friend, and I just hooked up in the bathroom. It’s a pretty shady thing to do.”
Jackson said, “I don’t think it’s shady.”
“You’re a guy,” she retorted. Then she softened. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, well this is not really something I would do under normal circumstances.”
“I can see that.” His smile was kind. “Look, I won’t lie. I liked talking to you tonight, and this…well…I wish it had happened under different circumstances, but now that it has happened I can’t say that I am sorry about it.”
“Oh, I am not sorry, I just…” She just felt a little vulnerable. That often happened after sex. She loved sex, but sex that did not have intimacy attached to it – sex like she had just had – often left her feeling insecure and remorseful. “It was just a little unexpected.”
“I can agree with that.” He grabbed a can of freshener off the back of the toilet and gave the room a quick and discreet spray.
He asked, “Who should leave first?’
“Um…”
“I will.” He smiled. “I will let you know if the coast is clear.”
She gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He went out, and then he stuck his head back in and hissed, “Come on.”
She exited hastily. They found the door out, and then they found the door to the room where their jackets and Hope’s purse were. They got their things and made their escape. They ended up on the street, waiting for the valets to bring their cars.
Jackson shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “So, how about giving me your number?”
“Give you my number?” she parroted. She blinked a few times. Was he serious? He wanted to see her again?
“Or not. I could give you mine, if you would rather.’
She would rather forget the whole thing. The last thing she had time for right now was a guy. Her grant was running out, and she had to convince the board to give her more money or shut down the lab, and that would mean she would have to find a job and an apartment and everything else.
A man was a complication she did not have the time or the energy to deal with. She said, “I am so sorry, but I have a lot on my plate right now. A whole lot. I mean, like you would not believe how much. And I don’t date right now, because…well, because I just do not have time.”
“I see.”
She rushed on. “I mean, I do not want to lead you on or anything.”
“I can see that.” His tone was dry, and she could not tell if he was deflecting hurt or just speaking.
Before she could say anything else, their cars arrived. Deciding the better part of valor – and the easiest way to avoid a prolonged walk of shame – was retreat, Hope ran to her car, jumped in and drove off quickly.
3
HE HAD JUST OPENED his mouth to say, “You could call me whenever you have a free moment,” when Hope made a mad dash for her car, damn near breaking her neck to get into it.
Jackson gawked as she practically tossed the valet out of her way, tossed a bill at him, and hopped in the car before peeling out.
The valet who had been about to hand Jackson his keys said, “Dude, that was a major strike out. I mean, I can smell the flames from over here.”
“Yeah, I never had one run from me like that before.”
The valet made a face and shrugged. Jackson handed him a fifty and took his keys. He got in the car and started home, thinking hard.
Jackson knew that hooking up with Hope was a mistake. That was one woman who could run circles around him in every way.
She came from a wealthy family, that was the first thing. She was terrifyingly intelligent – which just made her even hotter as far as he was concerned – and she was totally absorbed by her job. That was the biggest reason not to get mixed up with her.
Hope was married to her job. That was no joke. She was dead serious about her work, and she was not willing to let it take a back seat to anything.
He had known how much he wanted her from the moment that he had seen her, but what he had not counted on was how much he would want her after that steaming clinch in the bathroom.
He had been stupid enough to think that he could hit it and quit it, but Hope was unlike any woman he had known in his life. Hope was the kind of woman who would walk all over the heart he had always taken such pains to protect.
Of course he was careful with his heart. He’d grown up in a rough part of town with two parents who hated each other as much as they loved to party. The only reasons they had ever had to stay together were drugs and him. They blamed him for their being a couple, of course.
He didn’t need a relationship to make him miserable, and that much was certain. He’d busted his ass to make his own mark on the world and now that he had, he was enjoying that newfound freedom that money brought and using that money to really support his first love and dreams.
He was a gamer geek. Despite his masculine body and love of high-octane activities, he was never happier when he was playing or creating video games.
And Hope had made it very clear that she thought he was wasting his time, intellect, and talent on video games.
Never mind that it was the business to be in if you wanted to make money. She actually seemed to d
islike the thought of making a lot of money.
She had run away so fast it was like she was afraid of him, too!
As Jackson drove home, he made himself one promise: he was not going to even think about tonight. Or Hope.
He did not need that kind of drama in his life, and he had zero need for a woman who had just behaved like he had offered her a dose of poison instead of his phone number, either.
He had a feeling that that was going to prove to be something easier said than done.
4
“ARE YOU OKAY?” CLARA ASKED.
Hope smiled at her half-sister. The two of them had always been as different as night and day. Clara was a hedge fund manager, one of the few women in the field her age, and she was beyond driven. Hope was also driven, but where Hope’s ambition lay in helping others, Clara’s lay in becoming rich and successful.
They were even opposite in looks. Clara had long, curly, auburn hair that hung around a pale face and sharp, green eyes. Both Hope and Clara looked like their fathers, and nothing like their shared mother.
“Yeah, why?” Hope said.
Clara poked a fork into the pile of salad greens and chopped chicken breast on her plate. “Because you ordered pork carnitas and a side of fries. That’s some serious comfort food there.”
Hope plunked a fry into ketchup and then popped it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, and said, “I had a bad week at work.”
“Oh?” Clara sipped at her mineral water, her eyes searching Hope’s face over the rim of the glass. “How so?”
Damn. She’d just said that because it was the first thing that had come to her mind. The truth was that the steamy tryst with Jackson had done something to her, something she could not explain.
Jackson was the last guy she needed around, and yet she found herself thinking about him a lot and wishing he was not such a player. He’d made it really clear he was not willing or ready for anything serious, and she damn sure wasn’t, so why was she wishing she had gotten his number and maybe texted him or something?
“Hello? Earth to Hope.”
Hope blinked. “Sorry. I was just gathering my thoughts. It’s work, you know. All the usual things. I need to find a way to really impress the research grant boards, but I don’t have a lot to offer them, and I am getting worried about my funding.”
Clara’s smooth forehead crimped. “You still aren’t willing to try for investment funding?”
“No.” The suggestion, as always, made Hope cringe. Investment funding was not the route she wanted to go, because if she did, then her research would belong to whatever pharmaceutical company she had bartered her soul to, and there was no guarantee they would make any treatment she managed to come up with affordable to most the world.
“You know Dad would tell you to do just that.” Clare set her fork down and leaned across the table. “Honestly, Hope, I get it. I mean, how could I not? But I think if you are ever going to make any progress, you are going to have to go the investor route. Right now, you’re barely making a living, and your research is being stunted by tiny budgets and red tape.”
Stung and angry, Hope said, “I’m doing ok.”
She looked down at the delicious citrus and garlic-flavored pork stuffed into warm tortillas. The truth was that she could barely afford that lunch, and she had a car payment coming due, too. She had to have a grant not just for her research but to continue to stay on the campus where her research was carried out. There was simply no way could she afford rent – not with the way rent prices in the city had skyrocketed over the years.
In other words, she was a failure.
Their monthly family dinner, which was coming up fast, would be hell. Robert, her stepfather, and Clara’s father would spend half the evening bragging about his latest successes and a big part of the rest of the meal bragging about Clara’s success. Then, he would begin deriding, in a totally passive-aggressive way, the work that Hope did. He was all for her joining up with a big pharma company’s ranks and making big bucks no matter how against her principles that was.
Hope had never felt comfortable or even particularly wanted by her stepfather or her mother, who still held a grudge against Hope’s father for leaving them, but she and Clara had managed to have a relationship despite all the ways their parents pit them against each other.
Clara said, “I’m sorry. I’m starting to sound like Dad.”
Yeah, no shit. Hope managed to smile. Clara was two years younger, and she had rocketed to the top like a Roman candle going off. Her success came with a gorgeous and expensive park-view apartment, a fancy car, and a high six-figure salary. She was the child that Hope had never been able to be. That was not Clara’s fault. If anything, it was self-defense against the constant demands for perfection and achievement that the two of them had been raised with.
Hope said, “It’s ok. So, how was your week?”
“Good as always.” Clara pushed away her half-eaten salad with an air of finality that reminded Hope so strongly of their mother she had to look away. Having even an ounce of extra body fat was the sign of a person with no self-control. In sheer defiance, she ducked a few more fries into the ketchup, ate them, and then chomped into a carnita while Clara fiddled with her water glass.
The awkward conversation was not unusual for them, and Hope found herself wondering why the two of them kept up this traditional weekly lunch. They never had much to say to each other, and there was no way in hell she would ever tell Clara about Jackson.
Clara said, “Listen, I’ll get lunch, ok?”
“Ok. I won’t even argue you on that one.” She wouldn’t. The place had been Clara’s idea, and it was trendy and glittery, and very expensive, too. The food was good but not worth the enormous price tags attached. The tiny order of fries – which she had probably somehow desecrated by using ketchup on them – alone had been ten bucks. Coupled with the high-end carnitas, her share of the bill would have been enough to guarantee she had to eat ramen for the next week.
“Good. I’d hate to wrestle you for the bill and embarrass us both.” Clara chuckled. “I really need to get back to running again, but my schedule’s so crazy, I usually end up just using my treadmill at home while I’m in the midst of conference calls. You still running?”
Hope said, “Yeah, I run to work and back home every day. It’s easier for me to do that than try to drive across the campus, and it gives me exercise, too.”
In fact, that was just what she could use right then. The heavy and mismatched meal was sitting squarely in her belly, and her mood could use a lift. Besides, running cleared her mind, and right now she could really use that.
Clara paid the bill, and they wandered out to the sidewalk. The valet rushed to bring their cars. Clara’s was a fancy new sports car. Hope’s was an older sedan in need of a good washing. As she surveyed the two cars, Hope grimaced. The car and her life were both a mess.
She drove back to her small apartment and parked. Inside, she dropped the keys on the counter and went to her bedroom to change. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail, put on shorts, a sport bra, and running shoes and socks. She stretched a few minutes then headed out.
She had hoped that the exercise would make her feel better, but all her woes dogged her fast footsteps.
Jackson stayed in her head with every passing mile. No man had ever done that before. She couldn’t figure out why either. He was so wrong for her!
She turned around, coming back around the campus in a long loop. She was sweaty and flushed, her sports bra sticking to her body when she finally slowed to a fast walk that she gradually brought down to a slower pace to regulate her breathing.
Her heartbeat picked up the pace once more though as soon as she saw Jackson standing near the stairs of her building. He wore tight jeans and a t-shirt, both of which accented his long and strong body. He’d hooked a thumb through a belt loop and was leaning back with one foot up in a sexy and casual pose that made little rivulets of fluid run from her inner fold
s.
His hand, lying so close to his groin, and that thick and heated flesh just beyond the denim drew her eye as she drew closer. She searched for words as he straightened and let his eyes run over her body and face with an appreciation she could not mistake.
Her body was awash with a whole new type of heat, and she had to take a few long breaths before she could approach him and speak.
5
GOOD GOD.
That was the only thing that Jackson could think as Hope walked toward him. Sweat glowed along her taut skin, and her chest rose and fell in an entirely enchanting way. A few tendrils of her hair had fallen from the ponytail she wore, and the running shorts did a damn good job of showing off her lean hips and flat thighs.
“What are you doing here?’
Her question didn’t exactly read as welcoming, but it was not hostile either. He’d take it. He said, “I had an idea I thought you might like to hear.”
Hope dragged the toe of one running shoe across the pavement, her white teeth biting into her bottom lip in a gesture so sexy he had to shift a bit so that the rapidly growing bulge in his jeans would be less noticeable.
She asked, “An idea?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it was something that you said at the party.”
Her face held a cautious expression. “Maybe you had better explain that sentence.”
He chuckled. “You said you needed a new program that could sift through the results faster so that you could get your staff actually working. They could be doing research if they were not sifting through results, right? So why not give them something that will do that work for them while they work on more important stuff?”
“I did say all of that and it is true, but I was just sort of brainstorming an idea.”
“But why not make that idea into a reality? I know it would have to be encrypted and so on. It would be sensitive info after all. It could be securely encrypted, and the results could be drawn into several channels, and algorithms could be created that could forecast what those results could or might mean, like a predictor of what will happen if, say, X happens here or Y happens there. The board would likely love that.”
