Craving Jess

by Catherine Berlin

  But hadn't she said she'd see him tonight? He set his jaw, grinding his teeth together. He would just take a walk around the cul de sac and check her house from the front. He could always say he was out for a jog if she saw him. Then he wouldn't look like a worrywart.

  He snagged the key to her house from the top of the refrigerator and headed outside. The walk around the street to Jess's house took only minutes, but saved him the embarrassment of vaulting over the fence to save her from imaginary danger. He had to keep his cool. He chuckled. Maybe she'd gone to the store on a last-minute errand.

  At ten-thirty. And left no lights on. He quickened his pace.

  Two houses from Jess's, he noted her car in the drive. He ran to the hood and laid a hand on the metal. It felt cool. She was definitely home.

  He wasted no time letting himself in through the front door with his key. “Jess? You home?” He flipped on her foyer light and moved into the hall that led to her kitchen. “Jess? It's Damon."

  The silence in her house struck him as eerie. He realized he'd never been in her home without the radio or TV serving as background music.

  Damon found her purse on the counter. It didn't look rifled through. Nothing looked any more out of place than usual. Maybe she'd just come home tired and gone to bed.

  He turned on the small light over her stove. Jess didn't like the dark. She wouldn't have left the lights off. Something, or someone must have happened to her.

  Steeling himself for a fight, he raced up the stairs.

  * * * *

  "What the hell is he doing?"

  Jess jammed her hands onto nearly bare hips, shaking her head in disgust.

  Damon had come home thirty minutes earlier, only to leave on some stupid nighttime jog. Then, instead of running through the neighborhood, he went to her house and started turning on lights.

  She sat in the overstuffed chair near his bed and pulled her knees to her chest. What a stupid idea this had been.

  Right after work she'd dragged Laurie to a store that sold special occasion lingerie. She'd wanted something long and silky, but Laurie and the saleswoman talked her into garters and a bustier. She'd ended up with four bags of underthings she couldn't wear on a daily basis.

  After arriving home and disguising the lingerie in a giant plastic leaf bag so as not to alarm their nosy neighbors, she ran like a shot to Damon's house to get inside before him.

  Her first idea had been to greet him from inside his ungodly large bathtub. She'd filled the thing with scented water and bubbles, placed lit candles around the edges, and climbed in to wait.

  She'd found herself wishing she'd brought a clock and a book. Once her skin turned wrinkly and the water tepid, she grudgingly removed herself from the bath and rubbed the stiffness from her muscles with the two large fluffy towels she'd placed nearby.

  So much for seduction number one.

  By eight o'clock she'd strapped herself into the garters and bustier, topped them with a black lace cover-up. Her four-inch strappy heels kept getting stuck in the carpet. She managed to rescue all but two of the candles from the bathroom and situated them around the bedroom.

  Laurie and the saleswoman had convinced her she was gorgeous and irresistible. The further away she got from that moment, the less she believed it. She'd planned the evening perfectly and already her plan had gone awry.

  She adjusted the garters in the mirror. “This is better,” she'd said to herself. “Damon will be home any minute and his eyes are going to pop right out of his head."

  But that had been hours ago, and she was sure the back of her hair had gone all bed-heady by now. And Damon hadn't even ventured upstairs. Instead he'd fled the building and gone to her house.

  She tossed her hands in the air. By the time she changed out of this outfit and walked across the yard, he'd be gone and it would all be for nothing. An evening wasted.

  With a long sigh, she sat on his bed again and slid her legs over the comforter. She pulled his pillow toward her. Men. She inhaled his scent from the pillowcase and snuggled in. She'd just have to wait for him.

  * * * *

  Damon eased through Jess's bedroom door and sprang into the room. He felt like an idiot. There was nothing but a perfectly made bed covered in shopping bags. No Jess.

  He crossed to her window and bent the blinds, looking across at his own house. What in the world? Had he let fireflies into his bedroom?

  An uneasy feeling crept over him. He fought back the foolishness that threatened to take over. He went downstairs, afraid to look at the ring where Jess kept his key. But he did, and it was gone.

  He'd never had a light-bulb moment before, but now he understood the term completely. And he felt like a dolt.

  Hoping she wasn't too furious with him for screwing up whatever she'd planned, he burst from her house and sprinted across the yards, taking the fence in a leap.

  * * * *

  His hands shook as he reached for the door leading to his bedroom. Damon closed his eyes and inhaled. He swung the door open in one smooth motion.

  The candle flames had begun to sputter in melted wax, but he could still see her sprawled across his bed, not wearing much of anything. He tugged his drapes closed and blew the candles out, keeping his gaze on Jess. She was so damned beautiful. His fingers brushed the touch-lamp, bringing faint light across the bed. Across the black lace and satin that barely covered Jess's body. Mercy.

  She'd set out to seduce him, and he'd screwed it up.

  He moved closer, his eyes tracing the line of the thin heel of her shoes to her delicate feet.

  Her feet moved. The pointed heel of her right shoe slid along the arch of her left foot. Damon glanced sharply at her face. Still and peaceful with an almost imperceptible twitch to the edge of her lips, unless he was imagining it.

  He stayed at the foot of the bed, hoping she wasn't really asleep and suspecting she was close to it. There'd been many times she'd fallen asleep on his couch while they watched movies. He loved it when that happened. She'd snuggle against his side and drape an arm around his waist. He'd sit, afraid to move, afraid to wake her, knowing he was being an idiot.

  She moved again. Her hand rose from her side, her thumb dragging slowly along her thigh, her hip, her waist. Jess's fingers splayed over her taught abdomen. The pads of her fingertips swirled circles on her glowing flesh. She sighed and smiled languidly.

  Damon, frozen to the spot, licked his lips.

  She brought her other hand to her face. The nail on her index finger traced her mouth. She captured the fingertip between her teeth.

  His heart beat loudly inside his chest and his blood surged. Trying to ignore the growing tightness in his groin, he kicked off his sneakers, peeled off his socks, and jerked his shirt over his head.

  He sat gently on the mattress and leaned back on his remaining pillow.

  Jess turned toward him then, fitting herself against his side. Her warm breath on her chest made him close his eyes and his fists. Holy—! How was he going to make it through the night? This was supposed to be about Jess. About making her realize her power as a woman, not about him getting off.

  He had made up his mind to stay awake all night if he had to, just to do the honorable thing, when her tongue darted out and flicked his nipple. Or at least, he thought it did.

  He tipped his chin and narrowed his eyes. The dent of a dimple on Jess's face told him she'd done exactly that. Vixen.

  Willing himself to remain as still as possible, he groaned as her hand eased over his stomach. Her weight shifted and she leaned over him, a sleepy smile raising one corner of her mouth. He reached for her, but she shook her head, the ends of her hair tickling his already-on-fire skin. His jeans suddenly felt three sizes too small.

  Jess traced patterns on his pecs, his abs, and over the light trail of hair that led down his torso. When her moistened lips and her warm little tongue followed, Damon wanted to throw her on her back and have his way with her. But something about the way her cheeks were
stained rosy red made him hold back. She needed to do this, for him, yeah, but mostly for herself.

  And who was he to stand in her way? Especially with all the blood in his body rushing downward.

  When she tugged at the button and started working on his zipper, he raised his hips and pushed his jeans lower. He'd have shoved them all the way off, but Jess moved over his legs, one knee between his, and pinned him to the spot.

  One hand landed on his right shoulder while the other rubbed the crease of his groin and the area at the base of his cock. Jess hovered over him, her mouth not even a half-inch above his. Damon didn't know what he wanted more, to possess her lips, or for her to stop teasing him and grab his cock.

  Just when he'd decided he could take no more without grabbing for her, she kissed him. At the same time, her lower hand took his cock and stroked it hard. The sweet pressure combined with his pent-up desire for her sent him over the edge way too fast.

  Judging by the way she grinned into his kiss, it was what she intended. By the time he'd cleaned off with a few tissues from his bedside table, she'd drifted back towards sleep, remnants of a pleased smile on her face.

  * * * *

  The intermittent vibrating noise stirred Jess from a deep sleep. She raised one eyebrow without opening her eyes.

  Stupid phone.

  When she leaned back to reach her cell phone on the nightstand, she found her right side pinned by a warm weight.

  She stiffened. Oh, God.

  She opened her eyes. Damon slept on his stomach beside her, his right arm and shoulder holding her in place.

  Oh, God.

  Her phone vibrated again.

  Bright slices of sun streaked through the small space between Damon's thick drapes.

  "Crap.” Jess squeezed herself from beneath Damon and scrambled for her phone. She pressed the button to hear her voicemail.

  "Jess, where the heck are you? There's some kinda situation here.” Laurie sounded worried, and rather like she was talking without moving her lips. “I've seen three people leave with boxes full of personal items. Escorted out. Jackson's sent you seven e-mails since eight o'clock. Help! What do I do?"

  One stiletto hung from the ankle strap, the other was missing entirely. She had skin-dents from her garters. And the sexiest man she knew lay in the bed behind her.

  Damon shifted, rolling onto his back. Jess sighed. He was so freaking handsome. His dark hair stuck up in a dozen directions. She itched to run her fingers through it.

  Relaxed in sleep, his tanned skin called to her hands. She eased down next to him and dipped her head to his neck. He smelled amazing. Heat and strength and something more.

  She should really get home and change and hurry in to the office. She hadn't been late in two years. Laurie's message sounded urgent, but Jess was so warm and content.

  Her breasts accidentally brushed his arm and her nipples tightened instantly. She closed her eyes and lowered her mouth to the tender skin just behind his ear. What would Damon do if she woke him with kisses?

  The demanding rumble of her phone dancing across the nightstand made her jerk upward. With a last longing glance at Damon, she growled under her breath and forced herself out of the warm bed. She grabbed the phone and her jeans from the top of Damon's dresser, then yanked on the first t-shirt she could find in the semi-darkness. She abandoned her remaining stiletto and stepped into the jeans as she crept out of the bedroom.

  She shut the door quietly and put her hand to her chest. She wanted nothing more than to go back inside and pounce on Damon.

  This had better be as important as it sounded. If people were getting fired, she needed to make sure she wasn't on the chopping block. She needed a paycheck. Even one month off the payroll would be disastrous.

  * * * *

  He let her leave.

  That stupid phone of hers had woken him a half-hour before she ever heard it. He wondered if Jess had ever called in sick from work. This would have been a perfect day to spend hours in bed exploring each other. Hell, even first thing in the morning she was adorable.

  Damon sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He grimaced. A cold shower wasn't about to cure his raging erection, but he had to try. He'd thought about having her, seriously being able to be with Jess, for so long now, he could think of little else. Last night had only made it more urgent.

  He rubbed his arms. The feel of her skin had been burned onto his memory.

  Damon stood and stumbled into the bathroom, calculating random body mass indexes to keep his mind clear.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Craving Jess: Chapter 5

  The last person Jess wanted to witness her walking in late was Jackson. As a Creative Director, if he chose to, he could recommend she be fired.

  He held a cappuccino from Jacob's in his right hand and opened the door for her with his left, stepping into the building behind her. Heat emanated from him, whether from his beverage or from anger, she wasn't sure. She ducked her head and hoped he'd let her get away without comment.

  "Great day to be late, Jess. Get Laurie and meet me in my office in five."

  Her mouth popped open to ask what was going on, but Jackson strode away without giving her a chance. She tugged at the strap on her bag and walked to her office, wishing her heels didn't sound so loud on the hard floor of the corridor.

  When Jess entered, Laurie rose, grabbed Jess's bag and armload of files, and tossed them into the seat of the extra chair. She stared at Jess, showing both rows of her teeth as she waited for Jess to sit.

  Licking her lips nervously, Jess smoothed her long skirt beneath her thighs and scooted into her desk chair, her gaze never leaving Laurie's face. “How bad is it?” She hated that her voice came out in a whisper, but the whole atmosphere at work seemed to be one of silent panic.

  "The front-line team got canned."

  "All of them?” Jess's jaw dropped. She leaned forward, her dread a ball of raw dough in her belly. The front-line team held the honor, or curse in some opinions, of getting the big-money accounts. They produced consistently and worked more hours than any other team in the building.

  "They blew two accounts in one month. Mr. Rosetti is furious. He called in all the C.D.'s for a meeting first thing this morning. Everyone's been scrambling since then.” Laurie ran a hand through her already tousled blond hair.

  "Jackson wants us in his office.” Jess closed her mouth and picked up a pen, clicking it repeatedly.

  "Do you think we're getting let go too?"

  "Geez, I hope not.” She made a quick mental calculation. “That would mean twelve people have a six hour jump on us in the job market.” Jess bit the inside of her cheek. “Let's go get it over with. Whatever's been decided, it's too late to change it now.” She grabbed a legal pad and a pencil and followed Laurie out of the office and down the hall toward the stairs.

  As she climbed, Jess prayed that she'd get to keep her job. She might not like the way Jackson had treated her on their date, but he was damn good at his job. She'd learned a lot working under him the past couple years. In addition, she just plain couldn't afford to lose her paycheck.

  Outside Jackson's door, she took a calming breath. With a nod to Laurie, she pushed the door and approached the square table on the right side of Jackson's outer office, his “war room,” as he called it.

  Her pad of paper flapped onto the surface of the table and Jackson appeared in the other doorway. He avoided eye contact with the women. They shared a worried glance.

  "Have a seat. Please."

  Jess and Laurie sat. Jackson did not. Jess ran her thumb and forefinger down the length of her nose, squeezing the bridge and hoping for the best. She saw Laurie's hands pressed tightly together in her lap and placed her own on the table.

  The pause stretched out. Just when she'd decided to speak, Jackson dragged a flip chart over and started scribbling on the front page. When he'd finished, he turned to them, his body blocking their view of what he'd written.


  "You still have jobs. For now. But when Mayton's team got the boot, they hadn't yet finished working on a new account. So it got tossed to you."

  Jess touched her chest. “Us?” Her tongue went dry.

  "Consider it a trial by fire. You and Laurie have until Friday to come up with a set of possible slogans for a new ad campaign for National Gym. If you and your designers can finesse this one, you've got a shot at being the new front-line team.” Jackson's words sounded encouraging, but his face stayed haggard and more lined than she remembered. He'd obviously gotten no sleep last night. Jess wondered how long he'd known this was coming.

  "If you screw this up, you're out. Rosetti is cleaning house and he wants to keep only the best. Every team has a challenge. Of the nine teams left, he's only keeping five."

  Jess cringed. Those weren't good odds. Maybe she should cut her losses and start looking for another job before more people were searching.

  "There is a prize to be had.” Finally, Jackson dropped into a chair. “The five teams that stay will get bonuses and a raise.” He looked at Laurie, and Jess could have sworn his eyes softened. “And freelancers on those teams will be offered contract status."

  Laurie's shoulders relaxed. “What's the project?"

  Jackson grinned, then twisted around and pointed to the flip chart. “It's a potential million dollar account. National Gym opened two facilities in town four months ago. They're happy with the membership numbers, but they want to diversify their clientele. Each team has a specific target customer. Yours is the woman who doesn't join a gym. Not necessarily because she's in shape, but because she doesn't see any reason to join. You need to give her a reason."

  Jess held in a snort. Put a Damon in every gym. That'd bring them in.

  * * * *

  At exactly five minutes past three, Jess Walters walked into The Body Zone. Second time she'd ever been in his gym. Both times within the past week. Damon crossed his arms and watched her from behind the rack of free weights.