by Kira Blakely
Jackson asked, “Are you not having any luck?”
“Some, but it’s always slow, because clinical trials have such a long list of hoops to go through before we can ever get to the proper government channels to ask for human trials. The grant boards know that, but they act like they don’t all too often. It’s frustrating.”
His hand grazed her shoulder. Little tingles erupted along her skin. “I can only imagine.”
Dang it! Now, she’d just given him a chance to swoop in and play the nice guy, the one who listened and was understanding.
She might have bought it, too, if she was not all too aware of what a player he was. Jackson was such a player, he had co-created an app to help him get laid.
Well, so had Ashton, and he had turned out to be a really nice guy – one who truly loved Laura and wanted a long and happy life with her.
Not that she had any reason to think Jackson was like Ashton.
Jackson said, “How long do you have before the grant money runs out?”
She snorted. “Oh, it did already. That is part of the reason why my work is crawling along. I really can’t do anything without money. Even with a lot of interns and passionate researchers willing to wait out the grants and forego salary for now, there’s still not enough money.”
Jackson frowned. “Tell me again why the grant board is stalling.”
Hope looked around the room. Everyone was gathered into little clusters, talking away. She and Jackson stood alone near a small corner of the extravagant room. She knew why she was not enjoying the party very much, despite being friends with Laura – everyone there was an entrepreneur or married to one. The aura of money and wealth was everywhere and, as usual, her defenses were up.
That was it, in a nutshell. The feeling of being out of place and being somewhere that she didn’t really belong was making her even snippier than usual. Jackson was a player, sure, but he was probably just being nice by talking to her. After all, nobody else was, and she felt guilt for trying to ice him out. So she said, “I can’t get them the results they want.”
“Because it takes a lot to get to clinicals. Got it. But what about the results that come in daily? Do you report them?”
Her forehead creased. “No. I mean, results can be false positives or negatives. There can be a lot of data pouring in at one time, and it needs to be sifted through, which draws out the process further. If I had a program that would go through all of that in a reasonable time and in a faster way than the programs we use–”
He interrupted her. “How old’s the program?”
Hope groaned. “Old. And, before you ask, I can tell you all about every piece of equipment I use, but I suck at computer tech so I have no idea.”
His hand stroked his chin. His body shifted. The slacks he wore clung nicely to his long and lean legs, and for a moment she spotted a thick and chubby bulge in the front of those slacks, but then he shifted again and it vanished from sight.
The memory of it – hard and thick flesh pressed tight against the fabric of the slacks – stayed burned into her mind though, and a sudden and entirely unwanted desire ran through her body.
“Interesting,” Jackson said.
He stepped closer. His cologne came to her nostrils: slightly spicy and musky, very masculine – just like him. For a moment, she felt like he was talking about her when he said that word, and not some program. She hastily stepped back just a bit. “I guess, if you find that kind of thing interesting.”
“Tech’s my thing.”
“I thought you built apps for the masses.” Damn it. The sarcasm was real and thick, and she immediately regretted both the words and the tone that she had delivered them in. “I am so sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“No worries. It is true. I do make apps. Successful ones. Four so far. But the apps are just to keep cash coming in. The gaming platform was my real dream.”
She had no idea what a gaming platform was, but it sounded like he was excited about it. Maybe it was like an oil drilling platform or something. “And you created it.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She floundered and said, “Well, congratulations.”
“Thanks.” He titled his head back, “So how about you? What is your dream?”
“To save lives. I thought you got that earlier in the conversation.”
“Wow, and ouch.” He shifted. Her eyes dropped. Her face heated. The bulge was back. She yanked her eyes up, hoping he had not seen her checking out his package.
That desire running through her, and the fact that Jackson seemed to be toting what was likely a really big dick in those pants threw her into a momentary confusion. She recovered enough to ask, “I am sorry, did you say you created a gaming platform? What is that, exactly?’
His eyebrow tilted, and he said, “It’s a system on which to play games.”
More confused than ever and remembering only that he had created a dating app, the first thing that came to mind was that he had made some kind of game for people trying to get laid. That could not be correct, so she asked, “Oh? What kind of games?”
“Mostly interactive.” He grinned and added, “It’s supposedly going to revolutionize the video gaming world.
She got it then. “You make video games?”
He shot her an amused look. “You don’t like video games?”
She didn’t know if she did or not. They had been forbidden as a waste of time when she had been growing up, and she had never played them as she had gotten older. “Um, I never played them. Sorry.”
“You should, sometime. I could teach you how.”
There was dare in his eyes, and then his eyes raked along her body yet again in a way that made her core clench and her toes tingle.
“I prefer more adult pursuits,” she shot back, but just then her mind insisted on fetching up an image of the two of them engaged in a very adult clinch. Her breath hitched in, and she licked her lips which had now gone dry. “Um…I meant…”
He didn’t, thank God, decide to put that up for further discussion. Instead, he said, “A lot of grownups play video games. Besides, it’s an industry that will stand the test of time and let’s not forget, extremely lucrative.”
Hope surveyed his handsome face. “Is money the end goal for you with everything you create? I mean, do you never make something just for the sheer joy of it? And why not create something that could be helpful to people instead of just a waste of time?”
He said, “The people who play video games do not see them as a waste of time, but I could see how and why you would. Yes, by the way, I like making money from what I do, but if I did not love what I did I would not do it. The gaming industry is forever evolving and challenging to stay relevant. And it’s a challenge I gladly accept.”
Shame burned high as she realized she had likely given him the impression his career wasn’t meaningful. She knew what that felt like all too well. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I think that what you create is pointless.”
“No, just a waste of time.”
She gritted her teeth. He was so infuriating! She was trying hard to make it up to him for being so rude earlier, whether she had meant to be or not. “I didn’t mean it that way either. I just wanted to know if you ever considered building something that would be actually helpful.”
“And video games aren’t?”
Oh, great. Now they were arguing. She did not want to argue with him.
She wanted to make love with him.
That thought careened across her brain, and her nipples stiffened noticeably. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to hide those tight little points. She saw from his face that he thought the gesture was a sort of closing off the conversation.
She said, “I am sure people who use them find them very helpful for…for whatever reason. I was just wondering, with all your tech skills have you ever considered trying to create, say, a program that could be used in medical applications – you know, in life saving and changing ways.”
“Not everyone is you, Hope.”
Her defenses had caused her to argue with him, but those few words of his shattered her armor. She looked away. “You’re right. I…I am so sorry if it sounded like I was knocking what you do. I wasn’t. It’s just…oh, hell. I always get a bit bitchy when I feel like I’m in a place I don’t belong.”
“Me, too.”
She blinked as her head came back up to see him giving her an understanding look. She asked, “You get bitchy?”
His laughter was warm and dark, and it made low ripples of desire run across her lower body. He said, “No. I just don’t know how to put my shield down when I am in a room with the one person who gets why I don’t want to be in that room. Or party, in this case.”
She stared at him. He was not comfortable there, either? “Oh. I see.”
“I think we both sort of offended each other by accident. How about we start over?”
She laughed. “I would like that a lot. So, this is not your typical thing, huh?”
“No, not at all. I’d rather be anywhere but here, actually.”
She looked around. “Me, too.”
Now that that they had made it past that first, horrible part of the conversation and they had both admitted that they were uncomfortable, they could relax a bit, and they did.
Jackson asked, “Did you come by yourself?”
“Yeah, I told Laura I could not stay long so I could duck out as fast as possible, but I have not even gotten close to her yet so she could see that I made it. So I am sort of stuck for the duration.”
“Ah, well I have already seen Ashton, so I could leave.”
Was he hitting on her? Was he asking her to leave with him?
A waiter appeared, having finally noticed the two of them alone there, and his appearance broke into her thoughts. The waiter extended a tray holding delicate little shrimp puffs and other delicacies as well as a stack of cocktail napkins. They both took a few of the offerings, but as soon as the uniformed waiter walked off, Jackson said, “I’d love a pizza.”
“Me, too.” She bit into the light and airy shrimp puff, chewed and swallowed, then said, “With extra cheese.”
“Pepperoni,” Jackson added.
“Olives.”
Jackson paused with a small bit of pastry-wrapped bacon and cheese hovering close to his lips. “Black or green?’
“Both.”
He said, “You are a girl after my own heart.” He popped the morsel into his mouth, chewing in a slow and sensual way that made the little shiver steeling across her body get longer and wider.
“So, how is the video game business?” Hope asked finally, not because she cared, but because she had to say something to take her mind off the wicked thoughts wandering her brain every time he licked that tongue across his full lips.
He said, “It’s good. For the record, it’s not just about the money, even if the money is nice. I never planned on making any money, to be honest.”
“No?” She dabbed at her lips with the now empty napkin and found herself wishing she had about two dozen more of the shrimp puffs. They were delicious but about as filling as air.
“No. It was always about just doing something because I could. I love making stuff and making it work, too.”
She twisted her napkin around, trying to spot a place to toss it. “Oh. Is that why you made that app?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “No, I made that app because I was trying to get laid,” he said with a grin. “Hey, don’t look at me like that, I was a lot younger.”
She frowned. “I thought that came out last year.”
“Two years ago, now. But seriously we – Ashton and I – never considered that it might make money. We had no idea that it would make money. We were pretty broke back then, and so at first all that money was pretty scary.”
“I didn’t know that,” she said. “But I can see where having that much money, suddenly, could be terrifying.”
“Oh, it was terrifying,” he said softly. “I had a decent job by then, but it was entry level and it did not pay a whole hell of a lot. It paid a whole lot more than being a lawn jockey though, so that was something.”
Jackson tucked the last bit of something into his mouth and ate it while she blinked and asked, “A lawn guy?’
“Yeah, I pushed a mower for the rich folks over there in Briar Hills and other places on the west side. Talk about a shit job, especially in summer.”
“I grew up on the west side.”
He didn’t seem phased by that. “Maybe I cut your grass.”
She shook her head. “Negative, because I was the lawn guy in our family.”
The satisfaction she felt at the look of surprise on his face was gratifying. “Are you serious?”
“My step…” she stopped. She had stopped calling Robert her father years ago, at least when she talked to other people about him. When she was around her family, she still referred to him as her father just to avoid the bullshit that would follow if she was heard saying something so disloyal. “My stepdad is a big believer in earning your way.”
His eyes searched hers. “Those are some big yards out that way.”
“We had a riding mower.” She wished she had never said that in the first place. The last thing she wanted to think about was her fucked up family. “Did you have a riding mower, or did you guys have push mowers?”
Jackson said, “Oh, we had it all but I was the guy that pushed the push mower around. The trimmer, you know.”
“Wow. That’s hard work.” Now she was genuinely interested. She had only ever spoken to Jackson in passing before, and she was actually enjoying speaking to him and having a decent conversation now. “How’d you get into what you do now?’
“The usual way. First, I took extra classes while I was in high school, and then I went to college.”
Laura appeared just then, her dark hair swirling around her shoulders. “Hey, there you are! You sort of vanished on me.”
Hope said, “You were busy, and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“Oh, you weren’t. “Laura’s eyes went from Jackson to Hope. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”
“No,” they both said in unison.
Jackson said, “I think I better get out there and mingle a bit anyway. Good talking to you. Hope.”
“You, too.”
He nodded and walked away. Laura said, “He’s not a bad guy you know.”
“I guess not if you like that type.” Hope grimaced. “All he cares about his money, and you know how I feel about guys like that.”
But still, she could not keep her eyes from going back to his body as he walked into the crowd and then out of her range of vision.
****
She circulated even though she did not feel like it. Nobody else was as interesting as Jackson, and most of the people she met were all too busy talking about their investments and their portfolios and the latest trendy charity. That she was a doctor was all she had time to say before she was being asked how lucrative a position that was, and when she said she was a research physician most people just sort of turned away with boredom written all over their faces.
She was hungry to boot, and she was also seriously considering just sneaking out without saying goodbye to Laura who kept getting sucked into the crowd and dragged in the opposite direction of the one Hope kept ending up in.
She was bored and hungry, and she had lost sight of Jackson long before. She headed down a hallway, meaning to grab her coat. She ended up in a small bathroom by mistake and turned around just in time to see Jackson coming in the door.
He said, “Damn, you looking for the room they stuck our jackets in, too?”
“Yeah, the guy said down here at the end of the hall, but I must have not seen the right door or something.’
Jackson grinned. “Ditto. Those damn disappearing doors.”
She laughed and walked toward the door, meaning to exit with him. Instead, she walked right into his
arms.
Their bodies collided with real force. Her breath stopped. Under those clothes, he was muscular and lean, and his arms were strong as steel. She sagged against him, her mouth opening slightly as shock and desire ran through her body.
His mouth came down on hers, and she shuddered. Her lips parted, and she gasped hard as his tongue found its way into her mouth. The kiss was slow and deliberate. It was incredible and thrilling, and her body reacted to that kiss by going limp against his.
His hands went down her back. Her hands grabbed his shoulders and held on for dear life as the kiss lengthened and deepened. Her eyes closed.
This was stupid. She knew it was stupid. It was the dumbest thing she had ever done, but there she was, kissing Jackson in a bathroom at a party where they were likely to get caught at any second by someone else looking for the room where the coats were stored.
His hardness poked into her lower body. She felt the urgent press of it against her belly, and her core sent fluid spilling into her silky panties, making the crotch of them sticky and damp. Her hands moved to his chest, feeling the muscular breadth of it through his shirt and the urgent thrum of his heartbeat just below.
“We can’t do this,” he muttered.
“I know,” she breathed back.
Jackson muttered, “I meant we have to close the door. We can’t do this with it open.”
“Then close it,” she groaned.
Forget that it was stupid. Forget that it was dangerous. All she cared about was the thrust of his hips against hers.
He kicked the door shut and walked them backward. He fumbled a hand up and locked the door. Then, he went back to kissing her while his hand went to her hair, fisting it tightly as he kissed her so deeply all her breath vanished deep down in her throat.
Desire rode across her body in slow swells, and her nipples stiffened and tightened, pressing against the fabric of the dress as his hand found the zipper on the side and released the dress from her narrow shoulders.
Her hand slid between them, and she found the bulge in his slacks. Her fingers wandered over the plump and chubby outline there, and his dick pulsed in her hand, growing more heated and thicker. Her low groan was cut off and muffled by his mouth, and her feet came out of her shoes as he lifted her off the floor and carried her to the long vanity.