Playing With Fire (Sweet Redemption)

by Francis, Rose

  He only didn’t want to cause a scene and embarrass Janet in yet another way.

  Still, she had to be out of her mind if she thought he was going to just “stay out of her personal business.”

  She didn’t know it yet, but she was his personal business, and there was no staying out of that.

  It had also taken everything in him not to continue seducing Janet once they were closed up in her office, to the point that he finally knew what it was like to touch the skin underneath her pricy clothes.

  He couldn’t help kissing her, and the way she kissed him back made him want more right away.

  Her lips were soft, delicious in how pliable and welcoming they were. And the way she welcomed him into her warm mouth only made him think about what it would feel like when she welcomed him elsewhere, and he knew it was only a matter of when.

  Focus Rick, he chastised himself, shaking off the thoughts that haunted him several times a day—images of what her naked body would look like, fantasies of how and where he would finally take her.

  He left Janet’s office hard, and he had to fight himself the entire way to his own office to stay on course, to stop himself from going back to her office and finishing what they had started.

  But he knew he couldn’t move too fast—he needed to wrap her carefully and tightly into his web; she needed to have no defenses left.

  What also worried him was that he had to be careful for himself.

  He had fallen hard only once when he was nineteen, and was devastated when it didn’t work out and the relationship fell apart three years later. He had never allowed himself to fall like that again, but in Janet’s case, he accepted that he had no choice; she had the power to bring him to that point again, to bring him to his knees.

  He was riveted by everything she was—the way she moved, the way she looked—and now the scent and feel of her had rooted itself in his brain and other organs.

  The image of her in the flesh almost hypnotized him, and he cared to look at nothing else when she was around.

  Her beauty entranced him, but beyond that, working with her the past few days showed him other parts of her that impressed him.

  He realized she had a good head on her shoulders generally, was smart, and good with numbers.

  She clearly knew what she was doing as they began outlining the goals and direction for their assignment, and she was also confident in her ability, and it never came across as arrogant. She spoke with authority backed up by knowledge and experience.

  She was such a firm woman behind those soft eyes, and he wanted her, every part of her, and now found himself resenting his promise to his uncle since it made him delay what he felt would have been natural.

  But he found his senses, and realized delay was good since it meant he could delay his infatuation with her taking over him and becoming something more too quickly.

  Her effect on him was unexpected but it was only because she was unexpected—everything she was, everything they promised to be together.

  He needed to keep his head straight and in the game, keep his eye on the prize.

  Even though the prize had become her.

  He wasn’t sure if he had complete power over her yet, but he knew he was at least close.

  He had to wait until he was sure.

  ***

  Janet had lunch with Liz the next two days, but neglected to tell her about any of the recent major events. She wasn’t ready for Liz teasing her about almost being seduced in her own office, did not want to hear Liz turn herself into a hypocrite lecturing her about still entertaining David.

  Still, she was bursting to bounce the events off of someone, and although she planned to spill her guts about the latest over the weekend, Liz had weekend plans with Jason.

  Janet also didn’t hear from either David or Eric over the weekend, and thought about seeing a movie at the movie theater by herself on one of the days, but the thought made her irrepressibly sad.

  She decided to relax and catch up on some reading and a few Netflix movies and documentaries on her days off instead.

  On Monday, Eric burst into her office.

  “You can’t avoid me forever you know,” he said. “Emails only—not gonna cut it. Are you afraid of me or something?”

  You know I am, she thought, and was grateful it had stayed in her head instead of spilling from her mouth.

  “Why would I be afraid of you?”

  “The things I could do to you, believe me—you should be afraid.”

  Janet’s heart leapt to her throat.

  “E-excuse me?” she found herself stammering.

  “Oh sorry, that was supposed to stay in my head.” He smiled wickedly at her, and she knew he meant to say every word. “What I meant was that we should have a dinner date—to talk about work of course, and perhaps work out some of our kinks.”

  “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea. In fact, you know damned well it’s against company policy for...”

  “Come on, we’re partners, right? I think dinner dates are actually part of our job. Pretty sure it was in my job description.”

  “I-I just don’t see any reason we need to have evening meetings of such a sort,” she said, deliberately misunderstanding him as she felt her cheeks warming and her brain got stuck on the phrase about working out their kinks.

  She was still stammering and couldn’t stop it.

  When she glanced at him, his face showed amusement and he seemed so damned calm. It infuriated her to get so rattled and have him so aware of his power over her.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, not caring that he saw it. She needed to get a hold of herself.

  What would Liz say?

  Ha! Liz would be laughing her ass off if she could see this, she thought.

  “You’re not gonna make it,” Liz would most likely say. “No way on this earth are you gonna last another fifty-nine days around this guy. Not even thirty. Or twenty. Heck, you’d be lucky if you made it another two.”

  “So what do you say? Nothing too fancy so you don’t feel like it’s a date-date...” he continued.

  “Sure,” she was horrified to hear leave her mouth.

  ***

  You are completely out of your mind, Janet thought as she got ready. You’re asking for it, you know. What are you doing?

  But there was no going back, no way she’d stand him up now—she had to follow through with the stupid agreement she’d made.

  Janet usually got home by six after leaving work just after five, so she had more than enough time to get ready for their eight o’ clock reservation, but she found herself unable to settle on what to wear.

  It wasn’t a date, but she wasn’t going looking like the same woman from the daytime either.

  She also didn’t want to end up looking too sexy or suggestive.

  Plus, the outfit she would have worn, Eric had already seen her in the night they met.

  As the clock ticked, she let her hair out of her bun and decided to flatten the waves and bumps since flattened hair was not as sexy as wavy hair. It would help her look modest, she figured.

  That she would wear a dress was a definite; what type was not.

  I’m such a skank, she thought as she looked through her wardrobe, her dresses all sexy one way or another, showing off skin and/or curves, short on the bottom or top.

  She finally decided on a red dress with a halter type top and a cinched waist, with a flowy bottom that hit her thigh mid-way.

  She figured jewelry on the conservative side would make up for the exposed legs.

  Why am I thinking so hard about this? she thought as she clipped in a hair accessory that made her hair fall mainly on one side, giving a clear view of her choice of earrings.

  She slipped on a pair of black Louboutins, unable to help herself; she had to indulge a little.

  She also made sure to wear a pair of matching lacy underwear.

  She hadn’t told Liz about the date even though she knew Liz probably cou
ld have helped her figure out her look. Still, she didn’t want Liz—or anyone—to know what she and Eric were up to just yet.

  She was just finishing up her makeup when her phone rang.

  Eric had arrived to pick her up.

  She considered taking along a briefcase instead of a purse as a reminder of the nature of their date but decided against it.

  When she finally got a good look at Eric, she wished she’d gone along with the briefcase.

  She thought she had an idea of what trouble she was in when she thought of him in a romantic setting in a suit, but it was nothing compared to actually seeing him when he arrived to pick her up.

  She had tried to get out of that too—tried to convince him it was best they just meet at the restaurant so it was even less like a date, but he would have none of it.

  “I know where you live and I’m showing up there,” he had said. “No need for you to waste gas and add to pollution and all that. And I’m doing this strictly for the Earth’s sake.”

  ***

  Eric watched Janet approach the car and was glad she probably couldn’t make out his face clearly from behind the windows in the approaching dark.

  He had insisted it wasn’t a date, but she had come dressed like it was, and he was glad because so had he.

  As she walked, her breasts bounced a little and her legs without her usual stockings were magnificent. Her dress playfully moved with her body, swishing about her thighs, and she looked somewhere between a skipping child and a woman who knew her feminine power.

  Her hair moved with the breeze.

  It was only the second time he’d seen her wear it down—she usually wore buns or some other kind of up-do at work looking beautifully sophisticated.

  He liked her look regardless of how she wore her hair or what she was dressed in—her work clothes simply reminded him he was supposed to behave, but he wanted her regardless.

  Still, tonight’s get-up wasn’t going to make it any easier for him to restrain himself.

  She smiled at him when she got in the car, and for some reason, her smile looked suggestive to him.

  He felt a stirring in his loins.

  Baseball. War. Weird Al Yankovich. Just keep thinking unsexy thoughts there buddy, he told himself.

  ***

  Janet decided to skip alcohol with the meal—she needed to have all her wits about her.

  She couldn’t get over how good Eric looked in his outfit.

  He looked amazing in suits, but tonight he wore black slacks and a deep blue dress shirt opened at the neck, unbuttoned and rolled up neatly above the wrists.

  The blue of his shirt was darker than his eyes in their usual state, but she’d seen them that shade before—in eyes filled with desire as he looked about to ravish her.

  This more casual look on him silently drove her mad—he looked sexier than ever, and she didn’t think that was possible unless he was shirtless.

  It was the peek of his chest, the peek of his arm under the rolled up sleeve. He looked like a partially unwrapped present, the hint ridiculously tantalizing, firing up her imagination.

  Janet suddenly understood the quiet tortures of her various outfits, and the outfits of women around the globe.

  She also realized her own choice of outfit was not as modest as she had thought.

  “Enjoying the view?” Eric asked, a slight smile playing at the edge of his lips.

  He took a sip of his drink, his eyes still on her, holding amusement.

  She remembered he was only drinking soda because of her—he was the driver and would abstain from alcohol for the night while responsible for getting her home safely.

  Janet smiled back at him.

  “Working with you the next few months is going to be something else,” she said, shaking her head in resignation.

  “It’ll be whatever you want it to be,” he replied.

  “That’s the problem,” she said, looking down.

  She was thankful he didn’t press.

  When she looked back up at him, she saw an inscrutable expression.

  He was looking at her intently but with none of the usual flirtation or sexual suggestion.

  If she wasn’t seeing things, his expression held tenderness.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He broke eye contact.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Well, nothing I can say just yet.”

  And his words for some reason sent hope surging through her. She wondered what he meant, what he was hinting at. She had the feeling she would like it—no, be thrilled with it—and she wished he would just spill it.

  He was still looking away.

  She was surprised—she had never seen him not so bold.

  “Come on, you can’t just say that and stop,” she said.

  “I can, and just did Janet. Don’t press. Everything...” He stopped, taking in then letting out a breath. Then he shrugged. “Eventually,” was all he said, confusing her.

  Just then, the waiter arrived with their orders.

  As they settled in to eat their wildly different meals—her salmon and asparagus, his steak and potatoes—he paused in his chowing down and looked at her.

  “So. Tell me about yourself.”

  She finished a slice of asparagus.

  “All right. I’m in my late twenties, my birthday is in a few weeks on September twenty-sixth, and when my mom was pregnant with me, my parents had hoped I was a boy. Obviously, I showed up instead.”

  “I’m pretty happy about that,” Eric said, grinning at her.

  She gave him a look and he apologized. “Sorry, go on.”

  “His name was going to be Roland.”

  “They must’ve really wanted him.”

  Janet looked down.

  “Yeah.”

  Then she looked back up at him.

  “My mom was happy with me though, I never doubted that.”

  She looked away again. She was grateful he didn’t ask any followup questions about her mom—the pain of losing her was still raw.

  “Now what about you?” she asked brightly, needing to shift the focus.

  “Me? Well, I want to make love to you,” he said.

  Janet spat out the sip of peach iced tea she’d just taken and watched a launched drip hang off of Eric’s nose.

  She would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so struck by his words, and wasn’t sure if she had even heard correctly.

  “I’m sorry?” she said as he wiped off his face and brushed at his shirt with the dinner napkin.

  “You heard me,” he said, still busy with his task.

  “I’m just not sure I heard you properly...”

  He looked directly at her.

  “You did. Lucky for you, I’m willing to take it slow.”

  Janet’s heart felt like it would thump out of her chest.

  Anger, she thought. Think angry thoughts.

  “You mean to tell me that you keep coming at me to selfishly satisfy your lust? You know I can report you to HR for sexual harassment.”

  “But you won’t because you like it. You can’t fool me Janet—fool yourself all you want.”

  Janet was genuinely angry now, but because he was right.

  He was toying with her, as if she were some stupid pet, walking a treadmill to try to catch some treat on a string.

  How dare he play her for a fool? For some silly, indulgent fool?

  “Are you surprised that I’m not intimidated by the great Leonard Cooper’s daughter like most men probably are?”

  Janet all of a sudden felt close to storming out and hailing a cab.

  “Fine, I’ll play fair,” he said suddenly. “I’m early thirties, originally from the state of Washington, and I’ve been looking for a girl like you my entire life.”

  Janet’s anger instantly vanished, replaced by heat of another kind. She was touched, his tender words piercing her more than even his desire had.

  She was stunned speechless while her heart melted, and looking up at hi
m only made it all worse—he looked like he meant it.

  “I’ve said too much,” he said. “Just know that you’re safe with me Janet. I need you to remember that.”

  What was he talking about?

  “Why should I believe you? Anything you say? This is probably all part of your seduction plan,” she said poking at the remaining salmon with her fork.

  His hand reached across and grabbed hers swiftly, and his face held an odd expression she’d seen before, but he said nothing as he held her gaze.

  He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.

  “How much have I held back so far Janet? Compared to what I could’ve held back?”

  Janet conceded. It was true—even when his words were few or nonexistent, the looks he gave her and his facial expressions said plenty, and he never really seemed to bother to hide any of it.

  “I never imagined you’d be so...forthright,” she said quietly.

  His eyes arrested hers suddenly—widened, and looking particularly intelligent.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, almost suspiciously.

  Janet ran her words over again in her mind and realized she hadn’t given herself away.

  She’d been thinking about the version of him she’d created when she was thirteen.

  She remembered his physical appearance, and the way he handled her in her fantasies—always gentle and loving and he matched both in reality. But she hadn’t created much of a personality for him back then, certainly not one that included him telling her what was on his mind boldly; she hadn’t dreamed he would be so straightforward.

  His own candidness was starting to make her want to be more honest and upfront.

  She smiled and looked down, knowing she couldn’t say what she’d planned if she was looking at him, those analytical blue eyes studying her.

  He made her feel like she was under a microscope sometimes.

  “Listen, I made this pledge,” she began, “to myself. I’ve had a bad run with men—you met the latest one—and I promised myself...” She stopped, chuckling, realizing how silly it all sounded out loud. “I promised myself to go at least three months without...you know.”

  She could feel him smiling, and she could see it clearly in her mind’s eye—a crooked smile laced with light ridicule.

  He was silent, and it made her look up.