by Jae
Temperatures had dropped after sunset, but with that earlier image of Jill driving carefree, Crash just couldn’t resist. “Down, if you don’t mind.”
Jill pressed a button, which made the Beetle’s soft-top fold back into the rear of the car. Then she guided the car down the narrow dirt path.
Crash watched the confident way Jill gripped the steering wheel. She remembered how those hands had mapped her body with the same confidence. “Nice.”
“Thanks. Having a convertible is the one Hollywood-style luxury I allow myself, even if it’s not exactly a sports car.”
“I wasn’t talking about the car. I meant your driving.”
“Oh. Thanks. Well, I spend a lot of time at the cottage, so I know every bend and every stone in the dirt path.”
It was the perfect opening to find out more about Jill and her friendship with Grace. Admittedly, Crash was curious. She wanted to ask if Jill and Grace had ever been a couple or slept together, but this might be her only opportunity to talk to Jill alone, away from the set, so she didn’t want to waste it talking about Grace.
Okay. Buck up. It’s now or never. She searched for the right words that wouldn’t make Jill clam up immediately. Should she come right out and ask for a date? But that hadn’t gone down so well before. Maybe she should ask her to see a movie with her, spend some time together, just as friends, and then…
Before she could decide on the best strategy, Jill glanced over and said, “I’m sorry my friends put us in an awkward situation by trying to set us up. They weren’t exactly subtle about it, were they?”
“No need to apologize,” Crash said. She opened her mouth to add more, but Jill was faster, as if she sensed what Crash had been about to say and didn’t want to give her the chance to voice her thoughts.
“You know how it is. Whenever a woman is newly in love, she’s suddenly on a mission to help all of her friends find their soul mates too.”
Crash gave a noncommittal hum.
“Your friends aren’t like that?” Jill asked.
“God, no. Most of my friends are stuntmen. Not exactly the settling-down types. I wasn’t for the last two years either. After my last girlfriend cheated on me, I had enough of relationships for a while.”
Jill reached out with her right hand as if she wanted to put it on Crash’s leg but then pulled it back at the last moment. “I’m sorry that happened to you. She didn’t deserve you.”
“Yeah. But now…” Crash took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “I think I’m ready for something new. It doesn’t need to be a white-picket-fence kind of commitment, but I want more than a one-night stand. And I want it with you.”
A pained-sounding groan escaped Jill. “Crash…”
“Please, hear me out,” Crash said, afraid of what Jill would say if she let her speak. “Maybe your friends are right. We could be good together. I think you can feel it too. Maybe we should give dating a shot.” Her heart in her throat, she glanced over at Jill.
“We said that it would be just a purely physical one-time thing, with no expectations beyond that one night,” Jill said. She kept her face expressionless, but her voice vibrated with emotion, revealing that there was a lot going on inside of her.
“You were the one who said that,” Crash stated quietly.
“And you agreed to it.”
Crash sighed. “Yeah. I did. But now I have a hard time…” She trailed off, not wanting to make things any harder on them both by voicing her feelings, which Jill might not even return.
Jill whispered something, but her voice was so low that Crash couldn’t understand her.
Had that been a “me too,” or was that just wishful thinking? “What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
They reached a less curvy part of the road, and Jill drove faster, making the wind whip around them. Conveniently, it also made conversation impossible if they didn’t want to shout at each other. In the backseat, Tramp stuck his nose outside, obviously enjoying the way the wind ruffled his thick fur.
Crash leaned against the passenger’s side door and turned a little in the passenger seat so she could watch her. “Jill…”
Jill kept her gaze on the road, pretending she hadn’t heard her over the wind.
The very last traces of sunset reflected off Jill’s copper hair, making it glow as it trailed on the wind. The dim lights from the dashboard illuminated her features.
Crash wanted so much to reach out and brush a wind-whipped strand of hair out of her face, but she knew it wouldn’t be welcome, so she shoved her hands beneath her thighs.
Jill slowed the car a little and, keeping her gaze on the road, leaned toward Crash.
Crash’s heartbeat sped up. What is she…?
Their shoulders brushed as Jill opened the glove box and rummaged through it.
Warmth flowed through Crash’s body, chasing off the slight chill from the night air.
Finally, Jill found what she was looking for—a hair band, apparently—and retreated back to her side of the car, leaving Crash’s shoulder feeling cold. Jill tried to pull her hair back into a ponytail with one hand and grunted in frustration when she couldn’t manage.
“Let me,” Crash said.
“I can manage.”
“I know you can, but you don’t have to.” Not waiting for a reply, Crash reached over and took the hair band from her. She really just meant to help Jill tie her hair back, but when her fingers sifted through the smooth strands and brushed the soft skin of her neck, all thoughts of hair bands went right out the window.
Crash lifted Jill’s hair with one hand, but instead of gathering it into a ponytail, she traced the curve of her nape with her slightly callused fingertips.
The touch sent a shiver through Jill’s body, all the way down to the tip of her toes. But more than that, the tender gesture made her heart clench. She nearly swerved into the left lane. “Jesus, Crash, stop it before we have an accident.”
“Sorry,” Crash said, but when Jill glanced over at her, Crash didn’t look as if she regretted a thing. She used both of her hands to wrap the hair band twice around a slightly messy ponytail.
“Thanks,” Jill said.
Crash gave a nod, and they spent the rest of the drive to Los Feliz in silence.
Jill double-parked and turned off the engine.
They sat in the quiet car for a minute. Crash seemed reluctant to get out. Truth be told, Jill didn’t want to let her go either, but what was there left to say? She couldn’t give her what she wanted.
Tramp stuck his nose through the gap between the seats, probably wondering what they were doing.
Yeah. What are you doing? Send her away once and for all. You already delayed it much longer than is good for either of you.
But Jill didn’t. She just sat and looked at Crash.
“Do you want to come up for a cup of coffee?” Crash finally asked.
Oh, no. Coming inside with Crash was a bad idea. “I never drink coffee this late in the day, or it’ll keep me up all night.”
“I have tea too,” Crash said with an inviting smile. “We could sit down and talk about it. About…us.”
Jill firmly shook her head. “I told you there is no us. No amount of talk will change that I have MS. That’s just a fact that we both have to accept.”
“I do, but why does it have to mean that you and I can’t even go out on a date?”
For a moment, Jill couldn’t think of a reason. Yeah, why? Why can’t we just date? a voice in her head whispered. She silenced it immediately. “Dating in a business like ours is difficult enough, but dating someone with MS… I can’t even predict how I’ll feel tomorrow morning, let alone next week or next month. That makes planning a date more than difficult.”
Crash grinned. “No problem. Difficult is my middle name.”
�
�You don’t have a middle name.”
Now completely serious, Crash looked at her. “Don’t you think I’d be willing to adjust if you don’t feel up to going out? So what if we watch a movie at home instead of going to a movie theater?”
“That’s just it. You shouldn’t have to adjust because of me. That’s what people in a relationship do, and that’s out of the question for me.”
“I don’t mind adj—”
“But I do. If you give and I take all the time, we would never be equal.”
Crash quirked an eyebrow at her, either unable or unwilling to understand. “Staying home to watch a movie would make us unequal?”
“Maybe not at first. But what if we go on more dates?”
Crash grinned. “That’s the idea. I hope you wouldn’t run away screaming after the first one.”
“So we would date…and sleep together?” Jill shook her head. “Do you know how easy it would be to slip into a relationship?” Much too easy with Crash.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Crash said. “For now, I’m proposing a date, not marriage.”
It was tempting, so tempting. “You can afford to live your life like that, but I can’t. I can’t just ignore what might happen down the road. What if at one point the MS affects my libido? Are you willing to give up sex? What if I have a relapse while you are auditioning for a job? Would you just walk away from a once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity?”
Crash swallowed. She looked toward her apartment complex as if she wished herself there.
Jill clenched her teeth. See? That was exactly why she had to clear this up once and for all. She didn’t want Crash to have to look for a way out in the future.
But instead of getting out, Crash turned back toward her. “I don’t pretend to have all the answers either. But why can’t we try to figure them out together?”
“Because it’s not what I want,” Jill said, making her voice firm. Maybe if she said it out loud often enough, she’d believe it herself. “I have my answers already.”
Crash ran both hands through her wind-blown hair. “I don’t think telling you again how stubborn you are would do any good, would it?”
A tiny smile darted across Jill’s face. “No.”
Crash nodded a few times, as if to herself, and then reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride. Guess I’ll see you on Monday, then.”
“Yes. See you Monday.”
Her hand still on the door, Crash looked back over her shoulder. Her searching gaze rested on Jill’s face for several seconds before she opened the door and climbed out. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
After another moment of hesitation, Crash shut the door and turned toward the house.
Sudden panic rose in Jill as she watched her walk away. She couldn’t date Crash or start a relationship with her, but she didn’t want to let her go either. Not like this. “Wait,” Jill called before she could talk herself out of it.
With a hopeful grin, Crash whirled, jogged back, and jumped into the passenger seat of the convertible without opening the door, making Tramp bark and strain against his harness. “You called?”
“Showoff,” Jill muttered but couldn’t suppress a smile.
“Did you call me back just to insult me?” Crash asked, a hint of humor lacing her voice. But there was also something else—hope.
A hope that Jill couldn’t fulfill, but neither did she want to let her go. “No, of course not. I…I just wanted… I wanted…” Oh, to hell with it. One thing she wanted was clear and uncomplicated, so she focused on that. She leaned across the middle console, grabbed a handful of Crash’s shirt, and pulled her closer. Then her lips were on Crash’s. She kissed her hard and hungry, letting the kiss say what she couldn’t and allowing herself to get lost in the rush of sensations. One of her hands stroked up Crash’s arm and came to rest on her shoulder, encountering firm muscles.
Crash moaned and clasped the back of Jill’s head to bring her even closer. Her fingers set off a full-body tingle as they slid into her hair and pulled out the hair band.
God. Good thing she was already sitting down. Amazing what Crash could do to her with a simple kiss.
Finally, when their positions became too uncomfortable, they broke the kiss.
“Does that mean…?” Crash whispered. She trailed her fingers down the side of Jill’s neck, but when they reached the edge of Jill’s shirt, she didn’t slide them farther down. She paused to wait for Jill’s reply.
Jill shook her head. “I had to give up a lot since I’ve been diagnosed. But I realized that sex isn’t something I want to give up.”
“You don’t have to.” Crash’s eyes smoldered with heat. One corner of her mouth quirked up into a grin. “I’m volunteering.” She bent her head to kiss Jill again.
Quickly, Jill stopped her with one hand pressed to Crash’s shoulder. If she was going to do this, she had to make one thing very clear. “But sex is all you’d volunteer for. The it’s-a-one-time-thing rule is the only one I’m willing to break.”
“So you still don’t want a commitment. No declarations of love. No promises of a happily-ever-after. No flowers, no dates, no endearments.” Crash rubbed that sexy dimple in her chin as if thinking about the offer, but Jill wasn’t sure what was going on in her head.
“Exactly. All I can offer you is something physical.”
“And friendship,” Crash supplied.
“That too. But if you’re the love-at-first-orgasm type, I’d rather not…”
“Then I’d already be head over heels,” Crash said. “Because you made me come pretty hard that night.”
“Three times,” Jill couldn’t help adding. Jeez, when had she reverted back to an adolescent who boasted about her sexual prowess?
“Showoff,” Crash said, just as Jill had earlier.
They grinned at each other, and some of the tension receded.
“Listen,” Jill said after a while. “I think we work really well together—on set and in the bedroom. But that’s all it can ever be. This…arrangement will last only as long as we’re shooting together. Once we wrap up the movie, I want us to be able to just walk away with no heartbreak. If you can’t do that…”
Crash’s smile looked a little forced, but she kept her tone light as she said, “Hey, I’m a stuntwoman. We learn to roll with the punches. If a strictly physical thing is all you can give me, I can live with it.”
Jill bit her lip. She didn’t want to flatter herself by asking Crash if she was sure. Instead, she kissed her again.
When the kiss ended, they were both breathless.
“I know you don’t drink coffee in the evening, but how about we find some other ways to keep you up all night?” Crash asked, her voice husky.
Jill nodded and blindly pressed the button that would put up the car’s soft-top, setting off another round of barking from Tramp.
They had to drive around the block twice before they spotted a parking space on the street, and then they walked back, giving Tramp the chance to sniff and water a few trees.
Jill’s excitement grew with every step, along with her nervousness. Calm down. You already slept with her once. No big deal. Just stop thinking and analyzing it to death.
Crash reached for her hand as if sensing Jill’s conflicting feelings. She indicated their entwined fingers with a nod of her head. “Is this okay? I mean…”
“It’s fine.” Jill squeezed Crash’s hand and let herself be pulled inside and up the stairs.
Crash unlocked the door to her studio apartment. “Come on in.” She kicked the door closed behind them with her heel and took a moment to set a bowl of water on the floor for Tramp.
With the dog distracted, she pressed Jill against the countertop in the kitchenette and kissed her.
The pressure of Crash’s breasts agai
nst her own nearly made Jill sink onto the kitchen tiles. “Mmh, I… God… I like your method of keeping me up much better than caffeine,” she gasped out between teasing nips and kisses. She slid her hands down Crash’s muscular back and to her trim hips. Oh, she felt so good.
Crash kissed a hot path up Jill’s neck and nipped at her earlobe while she moved her backward across the room. Her warm breath bathed Jill’s ear, making shivers of excitement rush through her, as Crash whispered into her ear, “Good thing I didn’t bother closing my sofa bed back up into a couch this morning.”
Just as Crash pulled the shirt over Jill’s head and guided her down onto the sofa bed, a cold muzzle, dripping with water, touched Jill’s bare skin. She let out a startled shriek. “Tramp! Cut it out! This isn’t playtime, dammit—at least not for you.”
Tramp barked at her in reply, his tail wagging wildly.
Crash collapsed onto the sofa bed next to her and let out a frustrated groan. After a second she started laughing.
Well, at least she was being a good sport about it. Jill sent her a grateful look.
Tramp tried to jump on the bed with them.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Tramp, off!” Jill pulled him back by his collar. “Is there anywhere we can make him more comfortable? Somewhere away from the bed.”
“How about the kitchen?” Crash suggested.
They got up and led an excited Tramp, who was jumping and yipping, apparently thinking playtime would continue, over to the kitchen area. A high breakfast counter with two bar stools separated the kitchen from the main room. Crash took a blanket out of her closet, and Jill got him settled in the kitchen, blocking him in with two of the bar stools. She stayed with him for a few minutes, calming him down with soothing scratches to his ears, then got up. “Stay,” she said firmly and pointed to his improvised dog bed. “Quiet.”
Tramp whined when they washed their hands at the sink and then walked away, leaving him behind.
“No, Tramp. Quiet,” Jill repeated.
He fell silent. A deep sigh drifted over as he settled down.
Jill and Crash looked at each other and exhaled at the same time.
Crash reached for her and pulled her back to the sofa bed. “Finally. The kid’s in bed,” she said with a grin. “Now, where were we?”
