by Dawn Atkins
“I love it when you get impatient. When I saw you in that uniform, I thought I was hallucinating,” Ross said. “Where did you get it?”
She sat up and leaned back so she could see his face. “I borrowed it from a Desert Airline agent.”
“Did she know what you had in mind?”
“I said it was a practical joke.”
“That was no joke.” He winked at her affectionately. Very Ross.
And just like that, Angel disappeared, leaving Kara straddling Ross with no underwear on.
Quickly she slid off his lap and into the aisle. Ross zipped up while she pulled up her panties and straightened her suit. Then she resumed her Angel role. “We know you have a choice when you fly, Mike. Thank you for choosing Desert Air. Enjoy your stay in the Phoenix area, or wherever your ultimate destination may be.”
“You’ve spoiled me forever for coach,” he said, climbing into the aisle. “From now on, it’s first-class or stay at home.”
“I’m so glad,” she said.
He patted her bottom as he passed her and headed down the stairs. She watched him head off across the hangar. From the top step, she took a deep breath of the spring air, enjoying the strings of yellow and blue runway lights with their glowing halos. A departing plane roared overhead, making everything seem to vibrate. The airport had always been an exciting place to her, but now it would never be the same.
It wasn’t until Ross turned and blew her a kiss from the door to the terminal that she realized they hadn’t talked about what this meant. Were they done? Was it over? It should be, but oh, how she longed for more.
5
BRIGHT AND EARLY Monday morning, Kara put the plastic airline wings on Ross’s drafting table with “Fly united—Angela” on a note—pleased at how coolly casual it sounded. She’d managed to put the fantasy in its place. She had turned to scoot out of his work area before Ross arrived and ran smack into his chest. “Oops!” She backed up, the heat of his body staying on her palms and forearms.
“Kara,” he said, grinning. He caught sight of her memento and picked it up. “Fly united, huh? Good advice.” His eyes heated. “I thought about you in that uniform all weekend long.”
“Did you?” She’d sounded too eager, but it was a relief to know she wasn’t insane to keep reliving their “flight.”
“Oh, yeah. Any chance S&S will get Amtrak as a client? I’d love to try that in a train.”
“Don’t think so,” she said, fighting to stay flip, even as her pulse raced. “Now I always thought it would be really hot to do it in a taxi.”
“A taxi, huh?” He lifted a brow, impressed. “As a matter of fact, I do know a guy with a cab.” But now he didn’t seem to be kidding.
She raised her hand in a T. “Time out,” she said. “I was joking. I think we should leave well enough alone.”
“Oh. Sure,” he said, but disappointment flickered across his face. “It’s getting weird?”
She nodded.
“I can fix that,” he said, and snatched his dolphin water pistol off a shelf and shot a stream of water at her. “Take that.”
“You rat,” she said, looking around the room for another play weapon. By the time she’d found his Nerf machine gun, he was far down the hall. “Don’t miss the meeting at ten!” she shouted after him. She sighed, deeply relieved to be just friends again.
But he knew a cabdriver…
“ROSS? HELLO?” Ross’s date, Amy from LG Graphics, waved her hand in front of his face. “Did you hear what I just asked you?”
“Sorry. Sure. What?” The truth was he’d noticed a woman in a beige suit who reminded him of Kara in her stewardess outfit and he’d had a flashback of her rocking above him while his hands held her breasts under her jacket. That had been six days ago and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“I asked you if you always knew you wanted to be a graphic artist,” Amy repeated with the indulgent smile women tended to give him—why did they forgive him so easily?
She had every reason to be irritated with him. It was their first date and he was fantasizing about another woman. Not like him at all. He was great on first dates. Second and third ones, too. After that it got dicey. But he never pretended differently and he chose women who liked it that way.
“Not always,” he answered her, trying to get in the mood to play. “I liked art. Kind of fell into design. I enjoy it, so I stayed with it. For now, anyway. How about you?”
“My high school counselor steered me this way and I had a gift…” She went on talking about design and her company and he tried to listen. What was his problem? Amy was completely his type—great breasts, good mouth, funny and smart—see, Kara, no bimbo—but he couldn’t stop thinking about Kara-Katherine-Angel and what they’d done together. It had been mind-blowing, even for him, and he was no stranger to sex games.
With Kara it was different. Maybe because she was so innocent and wide-eyed about it, and working so hard—with dogged gusto. That’s how she was at work, too. Determined, driven, never-say-never. He shouldn’t be surprised she’d apply those traits to her sex life. He was just grateful to be on the scene. He looked at his fingers. What pleasure they’d given and received Friday night. God bless Bob for needing a ride to Sky Harbor.
“You seem a little preoccupied,” Amy said, her annoyance finally showing.
“I know. I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired.”
“While I’m in the ladies’ room, perk up, would you?” she said, standing. “Get a cup of coffee. Maybe espresso.”
He watched her go, curiously disinterested in the provocative sway of her hips. He kept seeing Kara’s self-conscious but firm strides. He loved the way she tried to hide how sensual she was.
What the hell was wrong with him? He had a perfect playmate in his sights and he was thinking about a fantasy that was over.
Did it have to be? Kara wanted it to be. But he had an idea that would be good for her control-queen tendencies. He’d love to show her more about the glory of giving herself over to physical pleasure. Another lesson, right?
But this was her game, not his, and she had to want it. Since Monday, when they’d joked about the plane flight and doing it on a train, she’d been elusive—actually congratulated him on this date with Amy and made him promise not to use a Spanish accent on her. Wasn’t that proof she could handle more? They were still friends. They’d pushed past the awkwardness at work with ease.
Watching Amy return from the john, he decided to at least see what Kara thought of his idea. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He’d take Amy home early, and he wasn’t going to give himself a bad time about it, either.
“GREAT IDEA, ROSS,” Saul Siegel said in the account meeting on Friday, sending a pointed look at Dan Lancer. Why didn’t you think of that, Mr. Big Shot Creative Department Manager?
“Absolutely,” Kara added, proud of his suggestion of giveaways at hardware stores for Emerson Faucets and Stoppers. “Mr. Emerson loves tangible stuff—key chains and little tape measures—something customers can hold.”
At the praise, Ross promptly shot Kara with a rubber band. The minute anyone took him seriously, he had to act like a kid. That annoyed her, but it was so Ross.
She fought a smile. Everything was normal since the mile-high club fantasy of last Friday. They had a firm grip on ground rule number one: friendship first. In fact, Ross had had a date last night with the woman from LG Graphics. When he’d mentioned it, Kara had gotten a twinge of jealousy—like the hint of a toothache—but handled it. Ross went through women like T-shirts. That was part of his charm and what made him safe for her sexual exploration. Which was over now. Except she couldn’t stop thinking about his alter egos—remembering Miguel’s tan fingers on her breast and how Mike had taken possession of her body on the plane…and especially how he’d tenderly held her during the aftershocks of the skull-rattling orgasm he’d given her.
“Sounds great,” Lancer said. He’d hardly been working since he’d decided to
take the job in L.A. Ross would be a great replacement, if he weren’t so committed to underachievement. Maybe she would say something to Ross. Again.
She watched him fold the meeting agenda into an elaborate paper airplane. Normally she would have kicked him under the table so he’d stop annoying Siegel. This time she could only stare at his nimble fingers, remembering how they’d slid up her thighs as if her body had called them there. Right there. Yes. Now there. Oh yes, and at just that speed—
“Kara? Hello?”
She ripped her gaze from Ross’s fingers to Saul, whose raised brow told her he’d asked her a question.
“The client’s concerned about the budget,” Tina said, jumping to her rescue. “But the marketing director wants to expand. Didn’t you tell me that, Kara?”
“Oh, uh, yes. Absolutely. Baylor Jones is our ally in this. I’ll cost out the option for him long-term.”
“Good.” Siegel seemed satisfied. “And I would appreciate it if you and Ross would play your games on your own time.”
She gulped. Saul meant rubber bands and paper airplanes. If he only knew…
Ross shot her an expressive wink and she flamed with blush.
Tina shook her head at her. You wild kids.
“Moving on,” Siegel said. “Plain Jane Bakery…”
Kara vowed to exercise more self-control. She wiggled in her seat, the movement giving her a twinge of arousal. Her senses had been heightened by the sex lessons. Smells seemed stronger, sounds louder, textures more intense. Cool air from the AC vent lifted the hairs of her arm like a lover’s fingertips. The leather chair was cool and smooth against her thighs, since she’d stopped wearing panty hose as a buffer. The fabric of her bra brushed and squeezed her nipples.
She looked at Ross, with his the-world-is-my-skate-park smile, and felt proud that she’d taken this chance. She’d done something completely out of character and it had worked fine. She’d learned from it. Love or marriage or settling down was the last thing on her mind.
The only problem was she kind of wished they could continue their game. She had a feeling that was a bad sign.
The meeting broke up and Tina caught her by the elbow. “I can’t believe you two sat there having sex with your eyes the whole time.”
“You think anyone noticed?”
“Uh, no. They thought the puddle of drool under your chin was condensation from your water glass.”
“No one would believe it, anyway. I hardly believe it myself.”
Tina gave her a motherly look. “Don’t forget who you are, Kara. One walk on the wild side does not a wild woman make.”
“And I should take advice from a woman who’d take apart her car to get a bartender into bed?”
“That’s me, not you. Speaking of that, can you skate early for the Upside?”
“Not early. I’m behind on the Emerson stuff.”
“That’s because you spent the week staring into space. Come on, girl.” Tina shook her gently by the shoulders. “Get it in perspective. You’ll make me think I’ve created a monster.”
BY THE TIME Kara eased into the cool dimness of the Upside for the happy-hour confab, Tina was already working her plan. Since Tom was an old-fashioned guy, she’d opted for an old-fashioned approach—naked jealousy. She was talking to a blond guy about three feet from where Tom stood behind the bar. Judging from the way Tom was glancing at her, then violently rinsing the same glass over and over, her plan was working.
Kara slid onto the stool directly in front of Tom—within eavesdropping range of Tina and her prey—and surveyed the drink selections in neon marker on the blackboard above Tom’s head.
“So, rock climbing, huh?” Tina was saying.
“Yeah. That’s my gig,” the blonde answered. He was very cute, but too young for Tina. “We’re hitting South Mountain on Saturday morning. Wanna come with? I could show you the moves.”
“I just bet you can,” Tina purred.
Tom rolled his eyes—he was listening in, too—his expression morose.
“How about a Silver Scorpion?” Kara said to him.
“Why does she do that?” Tom asked. “Overdo herself that way?”
Her first reaction was to bristle at the double standard. Men could have all the sex they wanted and it just made them more virile. Women who were direct about their needs were sluts. Then she saw how miserable Tom was and realized he was more interested in Tina than he wanted to admit.
“I thought bartenders were supposed to understand human nature. You have a ringside seat at the human circus.”
“Huh?”
“Tom,” she said patiently, “can’t you tell she’s trying to impress you?”
“She is?” He looked lost for a second, his hand frozen on the martini glass, a drip of water catching the light in a dazzling prism as it fell to the drain below.
She looked at Tina, resting her chin on her palm, pretending to be transfixed by Cliff Climber. She was completely bored with the guy, and kept glancing at Tom. “Yeah, she is.”
Color raced from Tom’s forehead to his face and neck and probably everywhere else in a terrific blush. Just darling. Maybe Tom would be good for Tina. He was a solid guy with a big heart. But what if Tina hurt him? She’d hate that.
“Let me get you that drink,” Tom said, coming to himself. “Kama Sutra, right?”
“No. Silver Scorpion. You’re losing your touch.” Tom never forgot a drink order. In fact, he was so good she often just asked him what she looked like she needed. Not tonight, though. He was too flummoxed over Tina to know club soda from tonic.
Kara was halfway through her drink—a concoction of crème de menthe and lighter fluid so nasty she vowed to cross it off her repeater list and trust Tom, even when his drink radar seemed wonky—and Tina had moved on to a computer salesman who was a taxidermist in his spare time, when Ross walked in the door.
She actually sensed him first, and looked up only to confirm her prickling awareness that he’d entered the same room she was in. Her heart thudded and she put her drink down so hard some of the poisonous liquid spilled onto the bar, probably etching it.
She’d been hoping Ross wouldn’t join them tonight. In the romantic light of the Upside, she was afraid she’d confuse him with one of his sexy alter egos. It wouldn’t take much, after the airline flight, to send her lunging across the barstool for more. And she was pretty sure that was a bad idea.
Ross didn’t take his usual meandering route to the bar, either. Admiring women looked his way, but he headed straight for Kara, catching her gaze and holding it, as if he saw only her. That meant too much to her, so she zipped her eyes away and pretended to wipe up the drink she’d spilled.
“Hello,” he said softly, leaning in.
“Hi. Gotta hit the ladies’ room.” She jumped off her stool so fast she lost her balance. Ross caught her by the elbow. “Easy there. Don’t run away.” His hazel eyes searched her face, dug deep. “We’re friends, remember? Ross and Kara, the tickle twins? I shoot rubber bands at you in meetings and you tell me I can’t be Peter Pan all my life.”
“Yeah,” she said, relief rushing through her. “I remember. Thanks.” She had the urge to brush that lock of loose hair from his forehead, but something told her not to.
“Go to the bathroom,” he said, patting her playfully on the butt. “I plan on making you laugh and I don’t want you peeing yourself.”
“I have complete control over my bladder, Funny Man.” Her bladder, yes, but the rest of her was another matter.
Ross was watching for her, Kara saw as she returned to him. She found the words How about another date? on the tip of her tongue, so she changed the subject as soon as she sat down. “I think Siegel wants you for Lancer’s job.”
The light in Ross’s eyes went out. She was both relieved and sad. “Are you nuts?” he said.
“You heard him. And he gave Lancer that look.”
“The look was Quit tanking, Lancer. I’m having to listen to lazy-ass Gabriel
.”
“What do you have against success anyway?”
“Who says that’s success?”
“Taking a promotion when you’re good is not a copout.”
“I’m not like you, Kara. I don’t work for approval or to get ahead. It has to be fun. When it stops being fun, I leave.”
For some reason, his attitude bothered her more than usual. She had the urge to push him. For his own good, of course. “But you’re the best person for the job. Bob’s a complete flake. And Julie…well, Julie’s young and moody. And Ray’s too abrasive. No one else is experienced enough. And if they bring in someone from the outside there’s a learning curve. You’ve got great rapport with our clients. This is exactly what you need.”
“What you need is another drink,” Ross said, waving at Tom. “Another one of these.” He pointed at her glass. “Double it.”
“Just a single and skip the lighter fluid,” she said to Tom, then continued with Ross. “I just don’t want to see you lose out because of a false view of yourself.”
“Thanks, sis, but I’m fine.”
“Okay,” she said, defeated but pleased she’d steered the conversation away from anything remotely sexual. Proof positive she had her head on straight about Ross. Tom brought their drinks and she’d just taken a swallow when Ross said, “So, how about a fantasy date tomorrow night?”
She choked. Flaming crème de menthe shot up her nose.
Ross slapped her back while she coughed. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she said hoarsely as the liquid carved new sinus cavities in her head. “What did you say?” She’d heard him, of course. She just needed a second to cope with the desire that poured through the rest of her body, competing with the heat from the misdirected liquor.
“I was hoping you’d be free. I mean, in case someone stopped by…say at seven?” He spoke slowly.
