I felt him against me and spread my legs, needing him, waiting for him as he caged me in his arms, his lips a millimeter from mine, his crown a millimeter from pressing into me, and in the space of a breath, we connected. He filled me with the flex of his hips, his lips taking mine with the same motion, his tongue slipping deep into me just as the rest of him did.
Release and flex. Then harder. Then it was desperate, our bodies waving together, our hands searching for something to hold on to. Another flex. Then again as my heart rushed in my ears, my breath shallow, my eyes closed as he pushed me faster, harder, my hips rebounding, pushing me into him by sheer force of gravity, of his gravity. And he moaned my name, filled me until he hit the end, rolled his hips against me, and I fell apart, gasping for breath, nails against his back like they’d stop me from falling.
But it was too late. I’d already fallen, and there was no going back.
Chapter 10
PROMISES, PROMISES
* * *
Joel
* * *
I SLOWED MY BODY, AND she met my pace as I pressed my lips to hers, my hand finding the crook of her long neck, the skin so soft against the rough skin of my fingers. It was a deep kiss, a kiss that said it wasn’t a mistake, a kiss that sealed the deal on my heart.
I pulled away after a moment so I could look into her eyes, and her lids opened slowly. The soft heat I found there didn’t last long enough, hardening and cooling as my brow dropped.
She ran a hand down my chest and shifted, pressing gently, and I moved as much as I could in the chair, knowing she wanted up. And she bolted the second she was able.
I lay in the chair, watching her bend to gather her clothes, watching her.
“So …”
She stepped into her panties, saying nothing.
I waited all the same until she had on her bra and was scanning the floor for her pants.
“Are we really not going to talk about this?”
She picked up the black slacks and pulled them on, one leg at a time. “Not right now, no.”
My eyes narrowed. I didn’t respond otherwise.
She finally looked at me, her face still, hard, the mask in place. “I’ve got the crew standing outside on the sidewalk, that is, assuming they didn’t come back inside and hear what just happened. I’ve got to take care of my shit right now,” she said as she buttoned her pants and picked up her top.
“But we will talk.”
“Is there any other way with you?” She pulled her top over her head and combed her hands through her hair.
I smirked at that. “No.”
She almost smiled as she twisted her hair into a fresh bun. “Didn’t think so.” Her eyes moved down my body. “Planning on getting dressed?”
I shrugged. “Think they’d suspect something happened if I walk out there like this?”
“Hang on. Let me at least get the cameras rolling first,” she said, a smile playing on her lips again as she walked around the chair.
I reached for her arm, sliding my fingers down her soft skin until they reached hers. “Promise me we’ll talk.”
She took a breath, the ice in her eyes cracking for only a moment, her fingers flexing to squeeze mine. “Promise.”
She let me go, and I felt the loss of the connection almost immediately.
Her eyes ran over me again with a spark of admiration behind them. “You really should get dressed. If we don’t go out there together, they really will suspect something.”
I smirked and stood, making sure she could catch all my good angles as I dressed, and once I pulled my boots on — I never really laced them up, something I was thankful for, given the urgency for needing to be naked a few minutes earlier. And with that, we walked out of the room together.
The shop was still empty, and to Annika’s credit, she was unfazed, her face hard and eyes steady. There was no smoothing of clothes or hair, no tell that she was uncomfortable. And maybe she wasn’t. There were two signs that reminded me of just how I’d taken her in the back of my shop. The pink in her cheeks, which had begun to ebb, a sight I was sorry to lose. And the other sign was one that I didn’t know if anyone else would recognize — a nearly imperceptible inclination to me, as if she were tuned into me, and I was tuned into her, like we were on a frequency all our own now. She walked a little closer than usual, and I could feel her in a way I hadn’t been able to before I’d tasted her, touched her.
Now? Now I just needed to touch her again.
But not yet.
We walked out the front door to find everyone still on the sidewalk, except Patrick’s client. He gave me a look that said he’d explain later, and I nodded my understanding.
Annika was all business, directing the crew, telling them to pack up for the night and take their film upstairs to start cutting. Anger flared in my chest at the realization that she was still going to use it. Of course she was. It was her job, after all. I pushed past the betrayal, reminding myself that she hadn’t known either, hoping she was telling me the truth. I honestly had no way of knowing, other than the look in her eyes. I trusted her that much, at least.
The crew made their way into the shop with Patrick and I in their wake, Annika leading the charge. She directed them on what they should take, even though they probably already knew — it was something she could control, I sensed, something for her to do that displayed her power. I was sure she felt the eyes darting between us just as much as I did while I helped Patrick break down his station. I needed to keep my hands busy just as much as Annika needed to keep her mouth busy.
I smirked at the thought of busy mouths and hands, and my worry about the situation dissipated.
Once the crew had filed out, Annika apologized again brusquely, seeming to be for show in front of Patrick, but her eyes met mine for a long moment before she turned and left. I tried to see behind the veil, tried to guess what she was thinking, but it was lost on me. She told me she’d see me tomorrow and walked out, and all I could do was watch her go.
Patrick turned to me the second the bell chimed, marking the closing of the door.
“What the fuck, man?” he asked.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t even know.”
“Did you—”
“Yeah.”
He gave me a look that was equal parts annoyance and understanding. “So what’s the deal?”
“No idea. She didn’t hang around long enough to figure it out.”
He flinched. “Ouch.”
“I mean, there wasn’t much to be done just then, not with everyone standing outside waiting.”
“True. Not gonna lie — it was an awkward ten minutes.”
“Is that all it was?” I asked. “Huh. Felt longer.”
He smirked. “I’m sure it did. I snuck in and grabbed Tony’s stuff, told him we’d just finish up next round.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t set you back too far, did I?”
“Nah, we were almost finished. And anyway, you didn’t do anything.”
“Well, I did, but I get your meaning. Hal.”
“Hal,” Patrick echoed. “Did she set this up?”
“She says she didn’t.”
“And you believe her?”
I shrugged. “I guess I do. Don’t really have a choice at this point but to have a little faith.”
“A little faith is fine. A lot of faith could be a problem.”
I took a heavy breath and let it out. “Guess we’ll see.”
“You like her.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact as he saw it.
“I do.”
“That’s kind of a big deal.”
I frowned. “I know. But it’s what it is.” I ran a hand through my hair, wondering what I was doing. “I’m not sure if I even know how to do this anymore.”
He chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder. “It’s like riding a bike, Joel. You’ll get the hang of it.”
I smiled, shaking my head, and we walked through the shop, shut
ting it down for the night. Patrick and I said goodnight on the sidewalk outside, and I turned for the short walk up the stairs to my apartment.
I could still smell the sweetness of her perfume on me — honeysuckle? No, too sweet — and she filled my thoughts. The softness of her skin. Her face — no longer hard, but soft, open. There was another version of her, the one I’d only caught glimpses of, and it was more enticing that I could have imagined.
Tomorrow.
It was the soonest that we could talk, and the words were already scratching at my throat to get out.
I paused at my door and glanced up, wondering if she was up there or if she’d gone home. Because if she were up there, we could talk tonight.
But I sighed and unlocked my door, stepping into the dark apartment instead of climbing another flight to knock on the door. It wasn’t the time or place, and I wondered at what point we’d have an opportunity to talk as I tossed my keys on the table. I wouldn’t let it go too long — it was like a disease sometimes, my mouth, and it had a mind of its own. Ignoring it wasn’t an option.
Shep wasn’t home — staying at Ramona’s for the night, I figured — and I walked through the quiet, dark room and into the bathroom without needing to see. I could have told you how many steps it was from my bed to the fridge (sixteen), the couch to the door (eight), the door to the bathroom (twenty-one), and when I clicked on the light, I found nothing new, except my reflection.
I don’t know what it was, exactly, that was different. My eyes, maybe, which held a fire that hadn’t been there earlier. Or maybe it was the set of my jaw, somehow more determined than usual, or the little bit of flush in my cheeks that breathed an extra spark of life into my face. But it was there, all of it, the different-ness of it catching me by surprise.
I looked away from the mirror and stripped down, turned on the shower and stepped in once it steamed. But I couldn’t wash her away — not even her scent, which somehow followed me through my apartment and into bed.
And somewhere deep down, I knew it would be just as hard to shake her.
Chapter 11
LIZARD BRAIN
* * *
Annika
* * *
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
If only my reflection could answer with the truth.
I’d barely slept the night before, my brain whirring with questions and playbacks of what had gone down. Namely Joel.
After I walked out of the shop, I climbed the stairs to the control room to get everyone going on editing. But the minute I saw him on film, his eyes full of fire as he got in Hal’s face, I had to get out of there. I was down the stairs in a flash, though I paused on the landing where his apartment was, momentarily caught in indecision as the urge to knock on his door overwhelmed me. He was in there, I knew it as much as I knew my own name, but if I put my knuckles to his door, we’d have to talk. And I wasn’t ready to talk.
So I went home. I showered, scrubbing my skin as if it would bring me clarity. But it didn’t.
As I lay in bed, staring at my ceiling, I tried to collect my thoughts as they skittered around my head like pinballs, making noise every time they touched something.
1) I made a mistake that could cost me my career. Ding da-ding.
2) I didn’t regret it nearly as much as I should. Da-ding ding.
3) His lips were the most fascinating things on the planet. Ding, ding, ding.
4) I wanted those lips, that body, all of him again, as soon as possible. DING-DIDDLY-DING, HI-SCORE.
As all the bells and lights went off in my brain, I felt sour, not elated. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Joel wasn’t supposed to happen, not only for myself, but for the show. I stood by the fact that he didn’t make any sense for me, not long term. But could I have something short term? Could I just leave any other feelings out of it? Did I have any other feelings about him now?
I searched my thoughts and realized that I did. I just didn’t know to what extent. I didn’t think of him as a boy-toy, with detached pleasure. The way he touched me, the way he looked at me — they hit me in a deep place in my heart.
That realization scared me the most.
I wanted to think this was just my lizard brain telling me to copulate with a male who was a genetic powerhouse. But it was more than that. And that was bad.
Very bad.
I also spent quite a bit of time wondering if the cameras set up in the shop had picked up any sounds of the foray. We hadn’t been overly loud, although I’d replayed our conversation before I kissed him — which wasn’t so quiet — and knew that if anyone could have heard that, they would have been able to deduce what had come after.
But as I stood in front of my mirror that next morning, I didn’t have any answers, and I wasn’t ready to find them. I owed him a conversation I wasn’t ready to have. Because I didn’t know what to do with him, with us, and I knew he’d want answers. Joel was the kind of guy who had to have answers, which was especially annoying because, not surprisingly, I was exactly the opposite. I could go days without answers. Months even. But he’d never let me get away with it.
I brushed my hair and parted it before pulling it into a low bun as Laney crossed my mind. She’d set Joel up, and she’d set me up by not telling me what was going on. I had no idea what the conversation I was about to have with her was going to look like, but I was pissed. She’d never done something like this before, but then again, she’d never had this much power before. I felt like another version of a meat puppet, and it didn’t feel good.
Her words of warning about Joel rang in my ears — they were true. Eventually, there would come a time for me to choose, and I had a feeling that choice wouldn’t be easy or simple. What would I lose? Because I couldn’t have it all.
I took a deep breath and smoothed a hand over my hair, chiding myself for putting the cart before the horse. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. If I shut Joel out, that would be the end of it.
The thought made my stomach turn.
I chalked it up to not having eaten and left the bathroom, trying to leave my feelings behind me. Brick by brick I built a little wall, sloppy though it may have been, to shield my heart from my head, at least for the day. And up went the mask of indifference as I descended the stairs and stepped into the kitchen.
Roxy sat at the table in her pink chenille bathrobe, sipping her coffee, and Kira was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s Bunny?” I asked as I popped a bagel into the toaster oven.
“Still sleeping. Soon she’ll start school and will have to wake up early, so I’m giving her a break. What’s up?”
I turned as I poured coffee so she couldn’t see my face — she knew me too well to let the mask fool her. “Nothing much. You?”
She didn’t answer, and when I turned with my brows up expectantly, her eyes were narrowed. “Hang on, seriously. What’s going on?”
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Roxy. Nothing.”
“Is it Hairy?”
I felt the flush and knew there was no hiding it. But I didn’t have to tell her the whole truth. “Maybe. We got into a fight last night after Laney sent his nemesis into the shop without telling any of us.”
She flinched. “Cold.”
I ground my teeth. “Yeah. We’ll have words when I get to work. She set me up to executive produce this show and is undermining my authority, which makes me look bad in front of the entire crew. I don’t know what game she’s playing, but I don’t like it.”
Roxy blew out a breath. “Man, what I wouldn’t give to hear that conversation.”
“Oh, you will. Over vodka tonight?”
“Deal.”
The timer on the toaster oven dinged, and I slathered the bagel with cream cheese before wrapping it in wax paper. “I’ve got to run, my car is waiting. Have a good day, Rox.” I bent to press my cheek to hers.
“You too. Don’t let Hairy get you down.”
I smiled. “I’ll try. No promises.”
She twiddled her
fingers at me before I turned and walked out, bag in the crook of my elbow, coffee and bagel in hand. The driver hopped out and opened the door for me, and I slipped into the back seat, setting my coffee in the cup holder so I could pick at my breakfast. Because I suddenly wasn’t hungry at all, not with the prospect of Joel and Laney less than an hour away. Instead, I worked on adding more bricks to the wall, fortifying myself, filling my belly with ice so I could freeze all of them out, after I breathed fire all over Laney.
By the time we got to Tonic, I was properly riled, my fury punctuated by my footsteps on the stairs like an angry metronome. When I opened the door to the apartment, Laney stood behind an editor, watching back the footage of Joel in Hal’s face.
She looked over at me and smiled. “You’re welcome. This is fantastic.”
My eyes narrowed. “A word, please?”
Her head tilted as she assessed me, amused. “Sure.”
I followed her into the office with all eyes on us and closed the door behind me.
Laney sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her arms. “Yes?”
“Don’t give me that, Laney. You chose me to be the EP for this show, and then you undermine me at every opportunity. What gives?”
“Would you have put Hal on the show if I’d suggested it?”
I frowned. “What kind of question is that? This is my job, isn’t it?”
“Last I checked, but you wouldn’t have done it.”
I evaded the accusation. “Not that you even respected me enough to tell me. You blindsided me instead. I was saving Hal for later in the season. It’s too soon — we’ve barely gotten started and you’re going to throw the ace in the hole at Joel? You showed your hand too soon, Laney. And now? Now he’s pissed and doesn’t trust us. You made me look like an asshole in front of everyone, and you undermined me. How am I supposed to produce people who don’t trust or respect me?”
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