by Jamie Craig
"A blur?" Gideon cocked a brow. "I don't believe you."
Emma laughed. "Why would he lie about something like that?"
"Because Jesse never likes to do anything halfway," came Gideon's amused response. "He just wants us to think he was the biggest clubber ever."
"Maybe he was." She turned to Jess, taking a step closer. Her breasts just barely brushed his arm. "Are you sure you can't come tonight? We need to prove Gideon wrong."
Jesse was very tempted to take her up on her offer. The thought of her on the dance floor made him throb. But Ethan shuffled his feet at the door and cleared his throat, bringing Jesse back to reality. But there were other ways to prove Gideon wrong.
"You don't believe me? I have proof."
Gideon leaned against the jamb. "This ought to be interesting."
"Don't move," Jesse ordered before turning to the stairs. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He had never mentioned his clubbing days to Gideon because they were hardly the bright point of his life. And the pictures that remained of those days were private, and probably more than a little silly. Was it some misplaced sense of pride? Was he trying to impress the woman he had already decided would never be more than a friend?
Maybe he just felt like showing off.
He found a half-dozen photos stashed away in an old picture album that he kept in the closet. Each one featured him and one or two other young men--the faces changed from photo to photo, and he had been fucking most of them. Which might have been one reason why he never showed them to Gideon before. His own youth surprised him, and he was half-naked in all of them, his leather pants hanging low on his hips. His eyes and lips were heavily accented with make-up.
He returned to the office and presented them to Gideon. "That's all that still survives."
"No way he gets to see and I don't," Emma announced.
She bounded around the desk to slip past Jesse, into the narrow space left in the doorway at Gideon's side. Her face was bright with expectation, but as her dark eyes settled on the pictures in Gideon's hand, they widened, her smile fading into something more lax. When Gideon slid the top to the bottom of the stack, her full mouth made an o shape, and stayed like that for the duration of the slide show.
She took them from Gideon when he'd gone through all six, flipping through them again more slowly, deliberately, as if she didn't want to miss a single detail.
When she started a third rotation through the pictures, Jesse reached for them and gently pried them from her fingers, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He pulled the top drawer of his desk open and slipped them inside. "I suppose Gideon could argue that those pictures were posed and don't really prove anything at all," he joked lamely.
"They prove you look hot in eyeliner," Emma offered.
Jesse smiled self-consciously. It was the same smile he always offered when Gideon complimented him. "That's what they used to tell me."
"They also prove you don't have nearly enough leather in your wardrobe." As Gideon shifted his weight, Jesse noticed his definite bulge. "I'm going to have to fix that."
"Yes, I'm sure he looks great in eyeliner and leather," Ethan said from the door. "Emma, didn't you want to get dinner before we went to the club?"
Emma jerked at Ethan's voice, and a flush of satisfaction coursed through Jesse when he realized she'd momentarily forgotten about Ethan's presence. It dissipated quickly, however, when she hurried to his side, slipping into his arm before glancing back at Jess and Gideon in apology.
"Call me about when you want me to help you with this grave robber thing," she said.
Jesse nodded. "I will. Have fun tonight."
She waved and the door clicked behind them. His gaze remained on the empty space she left behind, as though he could conjure her back if he concentrated hard enough. The room seemed empty without her in it. Until he looked over his shoulder and noticed Gideon was watching him--staring at him.
"Well, that was a brilliant move, Einstein," Gideon said dryly.
"What?"
"Getting the girl all worked up and then letting her just walk out of here. I'll bet Ethan thanks you in the morning."
Jesse frowned. "I didn't."
"And you didn't have to pry those photos--those fucking hot photos--out of her greedy little hands, either, right?"
Jesse sat down heavily. "Was she flirting with me, too?"
"She asked you to go out with them. Twice. You do the math."
The math said he might have to admit that Gideon was right. "Was she really worked up? I mean, could you tell she was...aroused?"
The question was the first thing to draw Gideon from his office doorway, coming to the desk to perch on the corner. "Jess, I've been telling you this for days now. Yes, she was excited. It started when you offered to take her dancing yourself, but the second she saw those pictures..." He shook his head. "You never listen to me."
"Oh, my God, and we let her go out with Ethan."
"And you know he's going to take advantage of the situation."
Jesse grimaced. "I can't stand the thought of him touching her."
"Then don't let him." Gideon rested his foot on the chair between Jesse's legs, nudging his aching balls with his toe. "Let's get dressed and go to White."
Jesse looked at him through his lashes. "You do realize I won't be wearing a collar there, right? And I don't own any leather pants any more."
"Trust me. You don't need to get glammed up to get Emma's attention. You walk in there, you ask her to dance, there is no way in hell she is saying no." Grabbing Jesse's hand, he pulled him to his feet, standing at the same time. He grasped his hips, rubbing their hard cocks together with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Do you think you'll be hard like this when you dance with her?"
"Oh, yes." Jesse sighed. There would be no hiding his arousal from her then. The thought sent a hot jolt straight to his groin. He had gone out of his way to hide any sign that he thought of her sexually for the past several months, but knowing he was going to be honest left him relieved. And very excited. "Will you dance with us, too?"
"I think I'd rather watch this first time." Gideon leaned in and licked along Jesse's jaw, ending at his ear. "I'll save my dance for when we get her home tonight."
Jesse shivered. All of his fantasies were so close, almost within his grasp. Could he be just a few hours away from everything he wanted? "I do love it when you watch." He turned his head and kissed Gideon's neck. "Come on, let's get dressed before I change my mind."
Chapter 8
* * *
It was better once they got to the club. Her guilty response for ignoring Ethan at the office was to erect twice the walls, deliberately shifting her attention to him as soon as they were on the stairs. She smiled, and she chattered, and she looped her arm through his, and though Ethan never said a word about her shameful behavior regarding Jesse's pictures, it took most of dinner for him to seem like the same easygoing, charming man he normally was.
Emma supposed part of it was her fault. She shouldn't have asked to stop by the office first to talk to Jesse about Derek's phone call on their date night. Which, in hindsight, she really hadn't done. She'd walked in, there hadn't been a speck of awkwardness between her and Jesse in spite of the fact that they hadn't spoken since their fight, and she'd been so relieved that things were normal again that she'd been all about Jesse. Everything else had taken a back seat to that, including Ethan and the case. It wasn't fair to him.
It especially wasn't fair that she'd practically drooled over Jesse's photos. There had been the briefest of glimmers when she'd first seen them that she feared some of her feelings about Jesse would leak through the barriers she kept so carefully constructed around Ethan, but it was her more blatant behavior that had probably given more away. So she'd tucked her tail and ran at the first opportunity, trying to make it up to Ethan as best she could. By the time they reached White, things were back to normal.
But she couldn't stop thinking about those damn pictures.
To say they were hot was an understatement. Jesse posed in them with a youthful swagger, leather-clad hip cocked to nudge against the male partners at his side, his scarlet mouth a succulent pout for the camera. Kohl-lined eyes bored into the viewer's, and there was a hint of raw hunger in the innocence that lurked in their blue depths. It was those, as much as the lean, muscled torso, that made her chest tighten, her fingers itch to reach through the paper and stroke the sweat-slick skin. They made her remember what bodypainting him had been like, how he'd felt under her fingertips that day at the museum when the three of them had been in search of inspiration. They made her relive the only time she'd had the nerve to kiss him, and even after a three-course dinner, she could still taste him on her lips.
White was a needed distraction. Ethan had been talking about bringing her here all week, and the moment she stepped inside, she was grateful for his insistence. She was even more grateful that he'd suggested buying the red dress. Against the monochromatic décor, it made her pulse with life.
The club was in a converted warehouse, with upper levels stripped out to leave a vaulted ceiling three stories high. Balconies rimmed the room in a continuous strip, overlooking the center dance floor ala the Guggenheim Museum, while the DJ was positioned in a hanging platform over the center of the room, the lights that danced across the writhing patrons mounted beneath him. A long bar was positioned along the far wall, the mirror behind it artificially doubling the space of the club even more, while chairs and tables were scattered around the periphery.
With his hand in the small of her back, Ethan guided her effortlessly around the edge of the dance floor, heading straight for the bar. More than once, Emma brushed against a warm body, casual contact that would have meant nothing to anyone else, and each time, felt only the physical sensations of clothing against her bare skin. There was no hum of excitement, no throb of fear, no shreds of anxiety to absorb. She walked through White as if she didn't have any empathic abilities at all. It was utterly liberating.
"Well?"
Ethan's mouth was at her ear, his arm around her waist as he leaned in to pose the question. He didn't need to elaborate. She knew what he meant.
"Not a single twinge," she replied with a smile.
His was just as wide, the approval shining in his dark blue eyes. "Good for you," he said. He tilted his head toward the bar. "The usual?"
Emma nodded and turned her back to the bar, letting Ethan handle getting the drinks while she looked over the crowd. She was getting stronger maintaining the walls. Even with such a large group, it took little effort to block out the white noise of their emotions. Soon enough, she would be able to do it without thinking, and all the credit for that would go to Ethan.
She smiled at him when he turned back with the two wine glasses. "Can we watch from the balcony for a little while first?" she asked.
"Your wish is my command," he said with an exaggerated bow of his head.
Handing one of the glasses to Emma, he took her free hand and led her away, staying in front of her to navigate until they reached the bottom of the slope. There, they walked side by side as they climbed, circling the building once until they found a spot over one end of the bar that gave them a perfect view of both the dance floor and the entrance. Emma leaned against the railing, letting the pounding music soak through her skin, as her fingers toyed with the stem of her glass.
She still had not taken a sip when she saw them. Newcomers always caught her eye, a fresh flurry of movement separate from the usual sea. On reflex, Emma glanced at the doorway, picking out the dark clothes of the two men who had just walked into the club with ease. A blink later, she realized these weren't strangers. They were Jesse and Gideon. Here. At White.
Gideon appeared his usual charismatic self, with leather pants molding over his hips and legs and a burgundy shirt left open at the collar. But it was Jesse that fixated Emma. He was just as tall as Gideon, but his leaner body made him more graceful, and his dark clothing only accentuated those long, luscious lines. Black silk shirt. Black jeans. The contrast to his skin highlighted the strong line of his jaw, and even from that distance, she saw the vibrant blue of his eyes.
She couldn't stop staring. Why were they here? She'd invited Jesse twice and he'd turned her down. What had changed his mind?
It dawned on her she didn't care what those answers were. They were here.
And she still couldn't look away.
"What are they doing here?" Ethan asked, following the line of her gaze.
Emma could only shrug, not taking her eyes from them for a second. They walked over to the bar, Jesse leaning over to order, and Gideon leaning against the counter as he scanned the crowd. Emma held her breath, a part of her wanting to shout over the music to catch his attention. When Jesse turned around, two drinks in hand, Gideon gripped his arm and pointed to the balcony.
Emma's eyes widened. He pointed right at her. Jesse looked up, and Emma couldn't be entirely sure at that distance, but she swore their eyes locked. Her breath stalled in her chest. Jesse was there, looking for her, looking at her, and at that moment, he seemed just as predatory as the vampire at his side.
They glided through the throng, toward the stairs. Each step they took was measured, and her lungs still refused to cooperate. Her hands were clammy, her skin slick, and she was forced to put down her glass, for fear of dropping it.
"Emma, did you know they were coming?" Ethan demand.
She looked at him in disbelief. "You were there," she said. "You heard Jess turn down my invitation. Twice. This is just as much a surprise to me as it is to you."
Ethan didn't look convinced. In fact, he looked angry. He downed what was left of his drink in a gulp, and looked like he wanted to reach for hers. "Why did you invite him at all?"
The question seemed ludicrous. "Because he's my friend? And he works too hard. And I like to spend time with him. And why should I have to justify this to you? I thought you liked Jess."
"That's not the point, Emma. This was supposed to be a date. How would you feel if I invited other women on our date?"
Emma opened her mouth to answer, but she felt somebody behind her. Ethan's face darkened as he looked over her shoulder, and that was all the confirmation she needed. Warm fingers glided over her shoulders and rested lightly on her upper-arms. She stopped herself from stepping back to mold herself against his body, and he didn't invade her private space further. But it felt like he was touching her everywhere.
"What are you doing up here?" Jesse asked. "I thought you'd be down on the dance floor."
He wasn't even pretending to direct the question to both of them. Emma had had the glimpse into his feelings about Ethan that afternoon she'd inadvertently read him, but she didn't need to open herself up to him to feel his dislike now. Was that what this was about? Was he trying to wreck what she was building with Ethan simply because he didn't care for the man?
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Emma turned around, stepping back as she broke contact. It took a moment for her to respond, the vivid burn in his eyes rooting her for a few seconds, and it didn't help that Gideon loomed behind him, dark and seductive.
"I told you I needed a few drinks in me to build up my courage," she replied, gesturing toward her untouched wine. "But what are you doing here? I thought you guys had to work."
"Gideon agreed to let me out of my cage," Jesse said. "He's moved to occasional moments of kindness like that." When she didn't laugh at his joke, he added, "It's been a long time since we've had a bit of fun."
"You shouldn't be up here hanging out with us then." Finally tearing her eyes away from him, Emma leaned against the rail to stare out over the crowd. "You should be down there dancing."
"I don't want to dance alone," Jesse countered. "You think you need to be drunk to get out on the floor, I can't even tell you what it would take to get Gideon out there."
"I'm sure there are several other people here tonight who would love to dance with you," Ethan said.
"Aw, they're only strangers until you get to know them." Sliding his arm around Emma's waist, Ethan pulled her away from the edge and into his side. "Now if you'll excuse us, I'd like to take advantage of how beautiful my date is and show her off on the dance floor."
She felt both Jesse's and Gideon's gazes heavy on her as she and Ethan brushed past and walked down the sloped balcony to the ground level. Every step away eased some of the knots in her stomach, but when they reached the bottom, Emma glanced up and saw them still watching her. Her heart thudded. She might not know the reasons or the details, but she was sure of one thing.
Jess wasn't here for fun.
Jess was here for her.
The pulse of the music caught her as soon as they hit the dance floor, and Emma abandoned images of lean bodies and bright blue eyes for the escape Ethan was providing. He found a spot where the bass made the floor vibrate, and she immersed herself in the beat, closing her eyes as she undulated to the song. It was hot and feral, and more than once, she had to reach out and touch his shoulder to moor herself. Sweat rose to the surface of her skin, trickling between her breasts. Once, she flashed on one of the pictures of Jesse, how his chest had gleamed under the club lights, but Ethan's sudden hands on her hips stopped that thought before it could take off. From that point on, he never let her go.
The song shifted and the tempo picked up, became fevered. She opened her eyes, and realized that Jesse was no longer watching her from the balcony. He wasn't watching her at all. He was just feet away, and it looked as though he took Ethan's advice to find a new partner. His hair was already damp, his face shining with sweat, but he didn't look carefree. He looked serious, intense, until he caught her eye. And then he smiled at her. A jerk of his hips and a sharp swivel brought him closer to her on the floor, but he still wasn't within touching distance.
Though she was vaguely aware of Ethan's hands still holding her, Emma was more fixed on how Jesse moved to the throbbing music. How sinuous his arms were. How sure his hips. Every time he snapped his body in a new direction, her heart jumped until it felt like it was going to pound out of her chest.
