by Nina Croft
She waited ten minutes until the painkillers kicked in. Outside her room, all was silent, though light filtered around the edges of the curtains and the clock on the bedside table told her it was morning.
When the throbbing in her head sufficiently subsided, she crawled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. What she saw in the mirror wasn’t pretty. No, she reckoned she’d been safe from Jake last night. He was far too fastidious to have touched anyone looking this bad.
Mascara smudged halfway down her cheeks. Her multicolored hair stuck up in all directions. She splashed water on her face, scrubbed the makeup off with a tissue, then found a new toothbrush and brushed her teeth. That was the best she could do.
She opened the bathroom door to find that her room had been invaded. Jake sat on the edge of the bed, wearing black drawstring trousers and nothing else. Stubble shadowed his cheeks, but otherwise, he appeared vital and alert. And half-naked. Heat pooled in her belly.
She ignored the sensation and stepped into the room. She must have done enough now to prove to him that she wasn’t girlfriend, or God forbid, wife, material.
Besides, the scent of coffee drifted across from the steaming mug on the bedside table. She needed that coffee.
A slight smile curved his lips as he saw her.
She pointed at her head. “Just got out of bed hair,” she mumbled.
“I like it.” He studied her. “You have a headache?”
She nodded, then winced.
“Serves you right.”
She ignored his comment. “It’s fading.” She waved toward the bottle of pills. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“And thank you for looking after me.” She chewed on her lip. “I didn’t throw up on you, did I?”
His lips quirked. “No.”
“Good.” She picked up the coffee, breathed in deeply, and then took a sip. Wonderful. “You know, contrary to recent appearances, I don’t often drink.”
“I know.” He scrutinized her again so her toes curled into the soft carpet. “Sit down.” He patted the bed beside him.
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“Make your headache go away. Relax. Trust me.”
She placed the mug on the table and sank down beside him. She wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but she did trust him, and she didn’t want to stand any longer.
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her slightly so her back was to him, then he slid his fingers into the tangle of her hair and massaged her scalp. It felt so good the breath oozed out of her lungs on a huge sigh.
“Tell me,” Jake said. “Did you get drunk last night to stop me from seducing you?”
“Yes.” Kim felt rather than heard the rumble of his laughter. “Well, it was you who taught me to use the weapons I had at hand. And it did work.”
He kneaded the back of her skull with his strong fingers. “It nearly didn’t. Have you ever tried to get a semiconscious woman out of a pair of tight leather pants? It was touch and go for a while there. I was hard all night.”
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “But, Jake, I’m so not your type. I dress wrong. I behave wrong. I get drunk and act silly.” She knew she sounded desperate when he chuckled again.
“Sweetheart, you’ll always be my type, whatever you wear, whatever you do.”
“Oh.”
He leaned closer and his warmth radiated over her. He stopped his massage and stroked her hair, looping it behind her ear, and then the whisper of his breath shivered over her skin. “I watched you talking last night, and all I could think of was your mouth around my dick.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry. I’d reciprocate—I want to taste you, kiss you, everywhere.”
This was so not fair. His words were having a disastrous effect of her; she was suddenly super-conscious of her sex, hot and heavy and wanting. And he was only talking about it.
He shifted slightly, and she felt his mouth caress her ear, his teeth graze her lobe, then the tip of his tongue delve inside, and she almost swooned. He murmured again in that low, husky whisper that sent a tingle through her. “I watched your ass wiggling in those tight pants, and I wanted to bend you over the nearest convenient object, strip them off, and fuck you from behind.”
She had a sudden visual and shook her head to dispel the image from her mind. Unfortunately, she wasn’t successful.
“I don’t wiggle.” Her voice sounded breathless. She needed to move, to get away, but was leaning into Jake instead. So close, she smelled the scent of his soap, the underlying warm, masculine smell she knew so well. He slipped her shirt down, baring one shoulder, and touched his lips to the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She was so caught up in him nibbling her skin that she hardly noticed when he moved his hands around to pluck open the buttons of her shirt.
Actually, she was deluding herself. She noticed everything. All her senses were on high alert.
She wanted to get away from him. Really, she did. Though maybe should was the better word. She should move. Really, she should. He was kissing her neck now, sending little darts of pleasure shooting down her body. She glanced down as he cupped her bare breasts in his hands. How had she allowed that to happen? Her nipples tingled and hardened against his palms, then he squeezed, and somehow her breasts were attached to her groin, because she felt it there. She was melting from the inside, moisture oozing from her body. If she didn’t move off the bed soon, all that would be left was a sticky mess.
Move.
“How’s the headache?” he asked.
Headache? Her brain latched onto the word. Wasn’t a headache supposed to be the perfect excuse? “Bad. Very, very bad.”
He chuckled. “You need to lie down.”
Did she? She should be getting up. Going to her own apartment or at least saying something to prove to Jake that she wasn’t his type. Trouble was, she could feel the steely heat of his erection pressing against her from behind. So obviously, Jake wasn’t ready to be convinced.
And what was it Scarlett O’Hara used to say? Tomorrow was another day.
Perhaps, considering her weakened state, she could let things slide for today and worry about them tomorrow. And there was a slight twinge in her head; it was just drowned out by the other, stronger sensations coursing through her body.
“Come on, Kim. Lie down and I’ll give you a massage and make the nasty headache go away.”
She chewed on her lower lip. She wanted to lie down so much. And a massage wasn’t the same thing as sex, was it? Why shouldn’t she lie down? Accept the massage? Just for a little while. A voice nagged at her that she deluded herself, but she told it to shut up. The tension seeped from her body. It felt so good to give in.
When she didn’t answer him, Jake tugged the shirt down her arms and tossed it the floor, leaving her in nothing but the black lace thong. She heard his indrawn breath, and for a moment, he stilled.
…
Slow down.
Jake’s hands shook.
He had to take this slowly. Or did he? Perhaps he should take it fast.
Christ, she was the most difficult woman he had ever tried to seduce. And the only one who really mattered.
She perched on the edge of the bed in front of him, which wasn’t where he wanted her to be. He wanted her under him, or on top of him, or maybe side by side with her legs wrapped around his waist.
He ran a hand through his hair. Maybe best to follow through on the massage thing so she could persuade herself that he wasn’t making love to her.
She wanted him.
He could smell her arousal, and he knew if he touched her between her legs, she’d be wet for him. His cock jerked at the thought.
So massage, first.
But how to get her where he wanted her without her spooking?
He wrapped his hands around her slender waist and picked her up. Then he turned and laid her facedown on the bed.
Shit.
She was
naked but for a scrap of black lace that crossed her hips and disappeared into the crevice of her ass. She had a gorgeous ass, small and tight with dimples at the top.
Keep his pants on or take them off? Better keep them on for now, or the whole massage pretense might vanish before it began.
He lowered himself gently onto the bed, so as not to startle her, and straddled her hips.
“Jake?”
He froze. “Yeah?”
“Just tell me that you massage all your friends.”
Anything to make her relax. “Every last one of them.”
“Oh, good.” And she settled back down.
Jake hadn’t had time to appreciate her body the other day in the office. He’d been too overwhelmed with the whole “fucking Kimberly at last” thing. Now he took a moment to stare. She was beautiful. Perfect.
She peeked over her shoulder. “My head hurts, Jake.”
He grinned, then stroked one finger down the length of her spine, settling above the dimples. Then back up. He swept the multicolored strands of her hair to the side, placed both hands on her shoulders, and kneaded the muscles. She was tense, but as he rotated his thumbs across her skin, she relaxed.
He stroked and rubbed until she felt boneless, and then he gave in to the urge to taste her. Resting his hands on either side of her, he ducked his head and kissed the soft skin of her back. When she didn’t protest, he kissed his way down her spine until he reached the curve of her ass. He laid a gentle kiss on each buttock and then slid his tongue along the cleft that bisected them.
Her hips jerked and her ass lifted.
He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed, slid it under her hips, then sat back on his heels.
Fuck. His dick was so hard he reckoned he could drill through walls with it. Her thighs pressed tightly together, and he slid a hand between them and pried them apart.
One more thing to make this picture perfect. He held his breath as he slipped a finger beneath each side of the thong, waiting for her to protest. When nothing happened, he dragged the lace down the slender length of her legs and threw the tiny scrap aside.
Shit, he was in heaven.
Her ass was slightly raised from the pillow, her legs spread so he could see the glisten of moisture between her thighs. Lowering his head, he breathed in the musky aroma of hot, excited woman.
The knowledge that she wanted him turned him on more than anything else.
He rested a palm on each globe of her ass, and she shuddered beneath his touch. He massaged them gently, kneading them, squeezing, parting them to see a flash of her sex. And his dick jerked again.
He was going to take her like this, slide right into her from behind.
Just one more moment to savor the sight, savor his victory. It would be like gliding into warm honey…
This time, he was prepared. He reached into his pocket for the foil packet, tearing it open with his teeth, and then shoved his pants down his hips and rolled the condom onto his shaft.
He took his dick in one hand, positioned it, nudging her slick heat. She shifted her ass, rising a little bit more, pushing back against him.
And the doorbell rang.
Chapter Ten
“Shit, fuck, crap.”
The words pulled Kim out of the sensual stupor she wallowed in. For a few seconds, they didn’t make sense. Jake still straddled her, but after a moment, he dragged himself off, hauled up his pants, and collapsed on his back, one hand flung over his face.
A bell chimed somewhere in the apartment.
Kim rolled onto her side, then tugged the pillow from under her hips and held it protectively to her front as she studied him.
“Jake, I think there’s someone at the door.”
“No kidding?” His tone was tinged with disgust.
She peeked down his body. Inside the black pants, he was hard. She could make out the line of his erection and had to clench her hands at her sides to stop from reaching out and staking a claim. She wanted that erection.
This might be her last chance because she reckoned the “tomorrow is another day” argument would only work once. And probably not even once if her mind hadn’t been turned to mush by Jake’s massage techniques.
He’d kissed her ass.
She could still feel the touch of his lips like a brand.
The doorbell chimed again. Perhaps he’d ignore it, and whoever it was would go away, and Jake could finish his massage.
Instead he sat up, swearing under his breath. He peered down at his groin. “Fuck.”
Or more likely no fuck. She couldn’t believe the disappointment that washed over her.
“You could pretend you didn’t hear it,” she suggested.
He cast her a disgusted look. “It’s my mother.”
“What?” The word came out as a squeak.
“She has a key. She’ll only let herself in if I don’t answer.”
Shit. He’d been kissing her bottom while his mother stood outside only feet away.
He ran a hand through his hair and gave her another disgusted look. “Saved by the bell.”
Her lips twitched. He sounded so put out. “How do you know it’s your mother?”
“Because she arranged it yesterday. She wants to buy Dad a car for his birthday next week, and I said I’d help her.”
“That’s nice.” Not.
Outside, the front door slammed. “Jake!”
“Too late.”
Kim could hear the murmur of voices. So his mother wasn’t alone. Kim had met her a few times and liked her. But that didn’t mean she wanted to go chat with the woman with the feel of her son’s lips still on her bottom.
“Stay here,” Jake said, rolling to his feet and picking up the shirt he’d taken off her minutes ago. He put it on, fastening the buttons, ran a hand through his hair. Then he leaned down and gave her a swift kiss on the lips.
“Well, I’m hardly likely to come out there like this, am I?”
His gaze ran down over her, and she hugged the pillow to her middle. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but he nodded and turned away.
As soon as the door closed behind him, she leaped to her feet. She grabbed the thong off the floor and dragged it up over her legs. Her bag and her clothes she found tossed on the chair by the bed. She tugged the top over her head, but no way did she have the energy to wriggle into those trousers. She nipped into the bathroom, found a dark-blue towel in the cabinet, and wrapped it around her waist like a sarong. She only had to get down fourteen floors to her place, so the towel would do. But first, she had to get out of Jake’s apartment, past Jake, and past his mother.
She cracked open the door and peered into the hallway. Voices drifted out from the living room. She snatched up her bag, picked up her shoes, and tiptoed into the hall. The carpet was soft and deep, and she made no sound. She got to the door, and she was nearly out of there.
When she tugged at the handle, it didn’t budge, and she remembered Jake had a central locking system. He’d locked her in.
A prickle of awareness ran down her spine, and she turned slowly.
“Going somewhere?” Jake asked.
Three people stood staring at her with varying expressions. Jake’s was bland, showing nothing. His mother had a small frown on her face, and his sister Abby grinned inanely.
Yeah, she was so funny.
“Nice skirt,” Abby said.
“Thank you.”
Jake strolled across to loom over her.
“I thought I told you to wait.”
“Er…off duty here, Jake. I don’t actually have to do what you tell me.”
Her gaze flickered to his mother and sister, who both watched with frank amusement now. Great.
“Haven’t you got a birthday present to buy?” she muttered.
She could see the frustration in his expression. Then he sighed. “Yeah. Go, but I’ll come and…see you when I get back. Be there.”
He reached across and punched in the release code, an
d the door clicked open. Then in front of his mother and sister, he leaned down and kissed her lingeringly on the lips. “I know you’re running scared, but why don’t you consider living dangerously for a change?” He kissed her again. “See you later, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
She wasn’t sweet, and she certainly wasn’t anybody’s sweetheart.
One thing was for sure. She was going out for the day. No way would she be home when he came back. She needed time, and she needed space and a brain that functioned. None of which she got when Jake was close by.
More importantly, she didn’t like the way he’d ordered her to “be there.” He might be her boss, but this wasn’t work. These days, she decided what she wanted to do and where she wanted to do it. No one else. Never again.
In the end, she showered and changed into another outfit she’d bought yesterday. This time, black jeans and a fitted black T-shirt with “Kiss My Ass” across her breasts. Then she yanked it off—the slogan raised too many memories of Jake doing just that—and pulled on an old, worn khaki one instead.
No more stilettos; she wanted to be able to run if the need arose. She shoved her feet into her Doc Martens, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and was ready to go. She headed into the office, then took herself down to the shooting range. Shooting things always soothed her; she liked the loud bangs and the recoil and the hot smell.
So what would it be like being in a relationship or even—God forbid—being married to Jake?
Jake was a control freak. He liked his own way. So did she. He’d try to tell her what to do, and they’d clash continually, and in the end, he’d realize what she’d been trying to show him—that they weren’t suited like that.
But by then, it would be too late. And it would hurt, and they’d fall out and not be able to get their friendship back.
For a second, she considered whether she could actually be what he wanted—a doormat. But only for a second. If she tried to make herself into that sort of person again, she’d end up hating him. And no doubt hating herself worse.
So what tactic could she use to dissuade him now?
She’d tried the “demonstrate they weren’t suited” technique, and that hadn’t worked. The only thing left was to keep out of his way until he forgot all this nonsense, and more to the point, until she forgot as well.
