Winning Moves

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Kat smiled to herself as she headed down the hallway, seeking Jason and the DVDs of the television show to take home with her. Carrie had called choreographing her “dream come true” when most of the dancers would call the show their dream. Kat related to that feeling and liked Carrie. It was going to be fun to work with her and watch her grow.

  After a quick search of all the places Jason tended to dwell at this time of the day, Kat headed to the break area to grab a drink and call him. She was about to enter when she heard Jason and one of the production assistants.

  “I’m trying to line up lunch for tomorrow’s production meeting,” she said. “We’re ordering from Joe’s Sub Machine. I need yours and Kat’s orders but I can’t seem to find her.”

  “Steak and cheese for me,” he said. “Veggie with avocado and Swiss for Kat. No onion and no mayo or mustard.”

  “You know Kat’s sandwich order,” came another familiar voice that made Kat cringe. Lana was in the break room and Kat had already figured out she was the Queen of Nosiness. “How very interesting.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I know her sandwich order. Just like I know that you not only drink your coffee black, but that you’re a royal witch until you drink it. And you chew cherry gum that you smack in my ear all the time.”

  “And now that I know that gum bothers you,” Lana declared, “I’ll never stop chewing it.”

  Kat smiled at the exchange, and not just because Jason was quick witted and he’d covered her backside. It didn’t surprise her that he respected her desire to earn everyone’s respect and to keep their past quiet for a while. But the realization that he still knew her so well was what got to her and created a strange flutter in her chest.

  The production assistant headed out and stopped beside Kat to confirm her sandwich order, which Kat gave a thumbs-up to before entering the break room. “I have a sudden urge for a piece of gum,” she announced, finding Jason and Lana sitting at the the table, paperwork spread out. “And this burning desire to smack it very loudly.”

  Lana started laughing. “Oh, I do believe I’ll stock up and pass it out before I head to Los Angeles tomorrow.”

  Jason grimaced, his strong, square jaw once again sporting a sexy light brown shadow. “I have no doubt you will.” He glanced at Kat, those deep green eyes stirring her inside, as they did all too easily, as he added, “Just remember payback is a promise when you choose to participate in Lana’s little games.”

  “I’m scared,” Kat assured him with a laugh, trying not to seem too knowing about just how delicious she knew his payback to be. She sat down across from Jason and beside Lana. “So, you’re leaving us?”

  “I have something scheduled before the TV show auditions get going and my work here is done. Casting is complete and any minor things I could help with are finished.” She pushed to her feet, slashing long blonde hair behind her ear. “And on that note I should go to my room. I have an early flight.” She pointed at Kat. “Keep him in line. I have to deal with him in a month when we start the crazy travel for the television show auditions.”

  “I will,” Kat assured her, but the jest in her voice was strained, gone with Lana’s reminder that Jason would soon be leaving. “Have a safe trip.”

  Lana hurried from the room, leaving a strong wave of powerful perfume behind her. “One last traveling job,” Jason said. “One more and I’m done.”

  He’d read her discomfort, responded to what she’d not spoken aloud. He knew her like no one else did. He had been her best friend, never replaced by another, and that reality made it hard to call what was between them just sex. But it was just sex, because people who loved each other, really loved each other, found a way to be together.

  Kat slowly let her gaze slide back to his, and she felt the connection in every pore of her body. It’s sex, she told herself. Chemistry. You want him. He wants you. It means nothing. “I said my last tour was it for me, too,” she finally managed. “No more travel, yet in a few months I’ll be traveling with this show.”

  “Kat—”

  “Whatever you’re going to say, this isn’t the time or place.”

  “Then let’s go somewhere else.”

  “That would be good,” she said. “I have a challenge with a couple of the dancers I need to talk to you about.”

  “There’s a bar on the top level of the hotel. It’s quiet there and I could sure use a drink. It’s been a hell of a couple of weeks.”

  Heat pooled low in her tummy. “We both know how well I handle my alcohol,” she said, cringing at her reference to their past, the past she couldn’t seem to avoid. “I still have to drive home.”

  “Stay at the hotel,” he said. “I know you prefer home. Living on the road is rough, but so are the late nights and early mornings right now. Exactly why the studio provides you a room.”

  She wanted to go have a drink with him, she wanted to talk to him, to touch him, to just be with him. And a part of her said to just do it, do him. Get this damnable need for him out of her system once and for all. Another part of her said he was a drug, and she had an addiction she had to break, or she’d never really live her life. And you didn’t beat an addiction by doing more of the drug. You broke it by just saying “no.”

  Thanks to this show, their paths were going to cross. She couldn’t start down a path of hopping in and out of bed with him when he was around, and really expect to move on with her life. Right. Exactly. That made perfect, logical sense. Damn it.

  Kat inhaled and bound herself to mature logic, and reached to ensure temptation did not become indulgence. “How about the diner again?” she finally said. “I haven’t eaten and we can talk there.”

  * * *

  WITH KAT BY his side, Jason stopped at the doorway of the very public, very unromantic, diner. He didn’t love her location preference, but after spending an eternally long week of wanting her, he’d take what he could get. And no matter how challenging it might be to give her time to digest that not only was he here, he was here to stay, he was committed to taking things on her time line. Well, with a little nudging to hurry things, he thought.

  “Two?” the hostess asked.

  “Two,” Jason agreed, and then leaned in and whispered to her, before slipping her a large bill.

  She smiled and motioned for them to follow her. “This way.”

  Kat frowned at him as they fell into step behind the woman. “What did you just do?”

  “Moi?” he asked innocently, hoping the little French reference would remind her of their honeymoon in Paris.

  “Oui, vous,” she replied quickly.

  He laughed at the “yes, you” in French, pleased with both her reply, and the fact that the hostess had just led them past double glass doors to a private, empty seating area.

  He and Kat slid into the booth across from each other and when they were alone he wiggled an eyebrow. “Just how much of your French do you remember?”

  “If you’re asking if I can still talk dirty, I’m pretty sure it would come back to me, if I tried. I’m also quite certain I can remember how to curse you out in French.” She grimaced. “You paid the hostess to put us back here alone.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “We needed alone time. Now reward me and talk dirty to me in French.” She complied with a graphic rant that was meant to be far more “curse him out” than “turn him on,” but it did the job anyway.

  “Naughty little thing, aren’t you?” he asked, feeling his cock thicken at the sexy way she’d rolled her tongue on the words.

  “Hello there,” a white-haired waitress greeted, stuffing a pencil in the poof of her hair above her ear. “What can I get you two?”

  “Two frozen margaritas and chips and salsa to start,” Jason said. “And we’ll give you the rest when you return.”

  “I told you I can’t drink and drive,” Kat argued, the instant the woman departed.

  “If I don’t get a drink down you,” he countered, “you’re going to spend this entire time we�
��re here worried about what happens after dinner.”

  “I…” She started to object and then quirked her lips. “Okay, maybe you’re right. And I suppose I’m safe. As you said the other day, it’s not like you can bite me right here in public.”

  “No matter how much we both might want me to,” he said, reminding her of the rest of his previous statement, his blood running hot at a vivid, mental image of just the spot he’d like to nip and tease first.

  “Jason,” she warned, her voice raspy, her lips parting in an alluring, come kiss me, kind of way.

  “Distract me, baby, before I forget I promised myself to give you space to come around. Talk to me about work. What’s going on with the dancers?”

  She swallowed hard, and brushed her teeth over her delectable full bottom lip. “Right. The dancers. I need to know what latitude I have to deal with the finalists from Stepping Up considering they’re supposed to be the stars of the live show.”

  “As much as you need,” he said. “No one is going to hold you, me or anyone on this show, captive. If you can’t get someone to do what you need them to do, there are provisions in the contracts to get rid of them.”

  “You don’t even want to know who I’m talking about before you stand by that statement?”

  “If this wasn’t you asking,” he said, “then yes, but I know you and I know you wouldn’t do something that wasn’t necessary.”

  “You trust me that much after all these years?”

  “Yes. Do you trust me?”

  Her expression slowly softening, she said, “Yes. Of course I do.”

  He leaned in closer. “Then trust me when I tell you I’m going to fight for you, and for us, Kat. I’m not going to let this time end like every other before it.”

  “Here you go,” the waitress said, setting the drinks before them and then the chips and salsa. She tugged a pad from her napkin. “Now what can I get you?”

  Kat glanced up at her. “Grilled chicken sandwich and salad with Italian rather than fries.”

  “Greasy cheeseburger and fries for me,” Jason said.

  Kat sipped her drink and the waitress disappeared. “You eat like crap.”

  “I know,” he agreed, all too aware that she had just dodged a response to his vow. “I plan to fix that in the next few years.”

  “In the next few years,” she repeated. “Well, at least you have goals.” Her smiled faded, and suddenly they weren’t talking about food anymore, even before she declared, “I have a confession to make.”

  He arched a brow. “You can’t stop thinking about getting me naked and having your way with me.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “I doubt you need me to confess that to know it’s true, which is why I won’t deny it.”

  Interesting. He was beginning to think his assumption that she was trying to make this all about sex was still on target. “Feel free to confess whatever you need to.”

  “I hate to even admit this considering I’ve taken this job, but,” she hesitated, and then blurted, “I’ve never watched one single episode of Stepping Up.”

  “Really?” he said, surprised by just how much her admission bothered him.

  “I’m finding out that there are some conflicts that occurred between contestants that I probably should know about. Do you happen to have copies of the first two seasons?”

  “At home,” he said tightly, certain there wasn’t a show of hers he’d have ever missed. “I can bring them into work tomorrow.”

  “You don’t like that I didn’t watch your show.”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t.”

  “I don’t do well on the outside looking in.”

  Emotion settled in his chest, as understanding took hold, and warmed the cold spot that had formed there. “Then don’t stand on the outside.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You ran from me after Denver.”

  “I had a tour to go on.”

  “You didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t ask, Jason.”

  “Oh, no, sweetheart,” he said, laughing but not with humor. “Don’t put that one on me. It killed me to leave you that morning and you knew it. We agreed to talk through a plan the next day, but that never happened because you ran.”

  “I didn’t run.”

  “You’re running now.”

  “I am not!”

  “The other night you claimed this was all sex between us and that a few bedroom romps would get it out of our systems.” He whispered, “But you backed off when I called your bluff, didn’t you? I’m guessing that’s because you’re afraid that no matter how many ‘romps’ we have, your plan won’t work. And then, KandyKat, you’ll have to face what’s really between us, be it good or bad, once and for all.”

  She stared at him, unmoving, her expression intense, before she stood up. “Let’s go.”

  He followed her to her feet. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “Your place,” she announced. “And I’ll follow you in my car.”

  “I can live with that.”

  He tossed money on the table, finding her choice interesting, and knowing her well enough to know why she’d made it. She actually thought that keeping him outside her world, her personal space and home, would let her hide from the truth. That home was with him.

  “I get a head start,” she added. “I’ll leave first and meet you at…the burger joint on the corner that everyone orders lunch from all the time. In the parking lot.”

  He reached for her and pulled her close, pressing his lips to her ear. “As long as you remember that I’m the cat and you’re the mouse, and I will catch up to you. Even if it means showing up at your doorstep.”

  Kat had already made the decision to cave to desire. She wasn’t holding back. She flattened her hand on his chest, pressed to her toes, and brought her mouth to his ear. “I’m counting on it.”

  6

  KAT FOLLOWED JASON as he turned his motorcycle into the long driveway of his gorgeous stucco home and then into a garage, shocked that he lived only a few miles from her. Maybe she shouldn’t have been shocked. They both gravitated toward the same things, as much as they did to each other.

  She killed the engine on her rental. She couldn’t believe she was about to have her wicked way with Jason. She watched him swing a powerful thigh over the bike to dismount and edited that thought. She couldn’t believe she’d ever kidded herself into thinking she could resist this man. Seriously, that had been certifiably nuts. The man did it for her in every possible way.

  She grabbed her bag and shut her car door. He’d removed his helmet and was there when she stood up. He reached for her bag, his fingers brushing her shoulder and sending chills down her spine. Her gaze collided with his and her body reacted instantly to the sizzle in the depths of his stare. They stood there, not touching, but yet her skin tingled as if they were. She resisted reaching for him when it was all she wanted and everything she needed. He didn’t reach for her either, and she was pretty sure he knew what she did. If they caved in to the burn right here, right this instant, they’d end up on the hood of the car, rather than on a soft bed.

  They moved at the same time, in tune even without words. Kat inched out of the way from the door, and Jason shoved it closed. She followed him to the house, and let him motion for her to enter first. The anticipation of touching him tingled deep in her nerve endings. She entered the house, the air conditioning chilling her ultra-sensitized skin in a way it might not otherwise have done if she wasn’t so aware of Jason on every level. Of how tall and broad, how raw and male, he was. How easily he read her needs, her pleasure, how long she’d ached for him, for this.

  Kat immediately walked up a flight of carpet-covered steps to a second level with a tiled foyer, and she continued up the next set of stairs. The lights came on behind and in front of her and she stepped to the room above, taking in a massive living area with an open kitchen and dining area to its left. More expensive tile covered the entire floor,
and a brown and cream rug sat under a sleek brown leather couch and love seat.

  Kat softly inhaled against the pain pinching her chest. What had she been thinking by coming here, taunting herself with the life he had without her? No. No. No. She wasn’t going to think about things like that. Not now, not anymore. And maybe, just maybe, sex would cure all. Maybe distance and random good sexual encounters had built her and Jason up to more than they were. Tonight, a few nights, and they both could see that there was a reason they had divorced.

  Kat turned at the same moment Jason cleared the top step, and she shoved him against wall, desperate to focus on him, not the house. To touch him, to feel him, to forget everything but pleasure.

  He dropped her bag and wrapped his strong arms around her and, God, it felt good to have him touch her. Heat radiated from him, warming her palm where it rested, her skin where he touched, where he didn’t touch but she wanted him to. Suddenly, they were kissing, drinking each other in, and Kat felt like she’d die if she didn’t have more of him. Her tongue stroked his, her hands pushed under his T-shirt, feeling the flex of his strong muscles.

  He twined his fingers into her hair, tugging away the band holding it at her nape, and angling her mouth to his, taking more of her, and still not enough. Kat leaned into him, the thick ridge of his erection melding to her hips, and she moaned with the need expanding inside her.

  “You feel good,” he murmured. “So damn good.”

  So did he. Too good. Scary, wonderful good. “This is sex,” she panted. “Just sex.”

  “If you say so.” His palms caressed her ribs, then cupped her breasts, and he slanted his mouth over hers, tasting her, before adding, “I’m fine with anything that means you take your clothes off and we keep doing what we’re doing.”

  On some level, his refusal to say this was just sex pleased her, on another it scared her, but remembering why it scared her was becoming a challenge. Kat nipped his lip and shoved his shirt upward. He yanked it over his head and tossed it away, giving no resistance at all. She explored his broad, hard chest, absorbing the feel of him with near desperation.