by Dawn Atkins
“What do you mean?”
“It was my inheritance I spent on the station. Every cent my father had saved over a lifetime for my mother and me. ‘Keep something between you and the wolves,’ remember? And I blew it all.” His face was pale with guilt.
“So that made losing the station so much worse?”
“Yeah, but like you said—I made the best decision at the time.”
But he didn’t believe that. The agony in his face was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. His parents had been gone two years, she remembered, and she’d bet the station failure had brought back the sorrow in full measure. “You feel like you let your father down?”
“At least he wasn’t alive to see it.”
“He wanted you to have the money, Jackson. And your dreams. You know he wanted that.”
“What he wanted was for me to get married and give him grandkids. They were always bugging me about that.” He rolled away from her and stared up at the ceiling. “That was why I didn’t go to Chicago for Christmas. I didn’t want the speech and the hassle and the arguing.” He sounded so beaten.
She waited for a second to see if he’d continue, feeling the ache in his words. Then she realized what he was telling her, the secret he’d left between the lines. “So they came to see you…” she said, pausing.
“And died on the way,” he finished roughly.
He blamed himself for their death. Losing their money had compounded his shame. No wonder Jackson seemed so hunkered down, so turned inward. He was weighed down by guilt and regret and grief, always grief. Her heart surged with sympathy, wanting to help somehow.
“But that was a long time ago,” he said.
“Not long when you’ve lost people you love, Jackson. Your parents.” She wanted to look at him, but she knew it would be too much for him. “Your parents’ death wasn’t your fault. You didn’t blame them for driving into a storm, did you? Why would they blame you?”
“Because I was an ungrateful jerk,” he snapped. “I didn’t appreciate them. Or all they did for me.” He sat up and put his feet over the side of the bed.
“I don’t believe that for one minute. I know better. Your parents did, too.”
Jackson was silent. She sat up, too, but didn’t speak, not wanting to disturb his thoughts.
“Hey,” he whispered finally, looking at her over his shoulder. “Next thing, you’ll be asking to be paid for being my shrink, too.” He patted her hand, looking straight ahead and away from her, though there was gratitude in his touch.
“That was on the house,” she said, hoping her words had given him some peace. “You can pay me back by helping me haul all those boxes back to UPS.”
“All the boxes?” Recovered from his emotions, he leaned back onto the bed, and rolled over her, giving her a wicked look. “How about you hang onto the bread maker?” He kissed her promisingly. “I’d kill for a nice thick slice of homemade bread to go with some peach jam.” He shifted to her neck, moving his tongue exquisitely along the muscles there. “Could you make that maybe?” He kissed her throat next, then the top of her breast, shifting his body so he could keep going down.
“Mmm, when you put it that way…I guess the bread maker stays.”
He kissed the middle of her stomach, blowing hot air until she quivered. “What about that crappy microwave?” More kisses, more downward shifting until he reached her there.
“Oo-o-okay…the microwa-aa-ave, too. You happy?”
“Very.” He rubbed his face into her sex, giving her a delicious thrill. “In fact, I’m in heaven.”
“Me, too,” she said, feeling lifted off the bed with pure pleasure. At last something was working out right.
10
THE NEXT MORNING, Jackson sat on the floor in the living room, his back against the couch playing Gran Turismo, while Heidi cleaned house.
He was trying to act normal, but he kept watching her, letting his car crash into the other racers, the restraining wall, even the spectators, because he couldn’t stop wanting her for a few seconds.
Heidi was amazing. She wanted to try all the positions. They were well on their way, too, and he was plain worn out. She seemed to treat this as a personal quest. I want to get good at this, she’d said, blinking those big eyes at him, her lips bruised from all the kissing.
You are good, sweetheart. He’d never had sex this good in his life.
Now she was bustling here and there, bending and stretching, like that first day, jiggling around with a dust rag, then running the vacuum. He’d never thought housework was sexy before.
She kneeled on the sofa and lifted a cushion so she could suck up nuts and nachos and lint. She was bent over, her butt wiggling enticingly, teasing him, until his erection could not be ignored. They hadn’t done it from behind on their knees yet.
His car crashed into the wall with a tremendous sound and the announcer complained on his behalf. Heidi stopped vacuuming and turned to him, glancing at the TV. “You lost again, Jackson.”
“I can’t help it when you’re doing that.”
“Is it the noise?”
“No.” He clicked off the machine. “It’s just you. I want to take you right there.”
“You do?” she said, heat instantly sizzling in her eyes, her pale face going pink with excitement. “Oh, I would like that.” She fairly quivered. “That makes me hot.”
“Does it now?”
“Tell me what you want to do to me,” she said, blushing. This embarrassed her, but it was part of her drive to do it all.
He climbed onto the sofa on his knees behind her and gently turned her so her stomach pressed the sofa. “I want to take you like this.” He moved so she could feel his erection between the cheeks of her bottom.
“Mmm.” She leaned back.
“Yeah.” He ran his finger down the crack of her ass and she trembled at the contact.
“Tell me what you want to do, Jackson. Explain it.”
“I want to pump into you until we both explode.”
“And is this the position you want me in?” She thrust her peach-shaped ass, encased in those red spandex shorts, harder against his cock. “So you can just take me?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Force your way into me?”
“Yeah.” He’d never use force, but it was her fantasy, so he wouldn’t argue. He ran his hands over the firm curves, then teased the space between her cheeks.
She whimpered and pushed at him. “Do it, Jackson. I want you to put yourself inside me deep and don’t stop until I come. Make me come.” She was gasping now, deeply aroused.
Now he wanted her bare, so he tore down her shorts, hungry for that wet, secret place that made her squirm. He touched her and she gasped and rubbed herself against his fingers.
He was so aroused and so happy. He had this amazing woman bent over, presenting her sex to him, completely trusting him to take care of her, to give her all she wanted. He grasped her hips and pushed slowly in, reaching around to touch her warm, swollen clit with his finger.
“Oh, yes. Do that. Yes. Screw me. Do it hard,” she cried, rocking against him, desperate and fast. “Make me feel it.”
He pulled out and pushed in deep, the soft roundness of her ass slapping his thighs.
“Harder, harder,” she begged.
He jammed into her again and again, doing what she wanted, taking care not to use too much force. He didn’t want her enthusiasm to push them to the point of pain. She moaned and panted, rocking with him. They climaxed together, both crying out. He said her name so roughly it hurt his throat.
They rested for a few seconds before he slid from her body. Then she turned to him. “That was so…amazing. I can’t believe I said what I said.” Her eyes were wide.
“I can’t believe you did, either.” He kissed her mouth. “You’re one big surprise.” He pulled her down onto the couch with him and held her in his arms, burying his nose in her neck. The smell of sex came off them in waves and when he felt her sweet breath on
his chest something in him just plain gave way.
TWO NIGHTS LATER, from his DJ booth, Jackson watched the three star dancers huddle with Heidi, heads leaned in, hands waving to emphasize points. As he looked on, one after the other turned and stared up at him—Autumn, Jasmine, Nevada and his sweet lover. Uh-oh. Whatever they were cooking up had to do with him. He’d bet Heidi was the instigator. She stirred everybody up, one way or another.
That ridiculous sack of a blouse and skirt she wore looked as sexy as a barely there French maid uniform. They’d gone at it at the last minute tonight, against the door to the garage. He’d ripped down those goofy dime-store panties she had—posies or something, not daisies—and took her standing up, in the god-awful outfit. Fishnets and stilettos were boring compared to Heidi with those girlish undies wrapped around her ankles.
Are you happy? she’d asked him the afternoon he’d come home to her crying over the packages and she’d convinced him they could keep having sex. She’d meant was he happy about keeping the bread maker and the microwave, which was how he’d answered her. But the truth was that he was happy. Happier than he’d been in forever. He’d let himself take Heidi to bed and, worse, spilled his guts about being the reason his folks had died, but he felt…better.
You didn’t blame your parents for driving into a storm, did you? Why would they blame you? The idea tipped his thoughts about that horrible time on end. But having Heidi around turned lots of things on end. The house felt…full. Not crowded, but like home.
Maybe it was the sex and the urge that followed to hook in where it was warm and just stick. He’d gotten in. And he wanted to stay for a while. That’s how it was with men, right?
He couldn’t wait to get home for more. She wanted sex everywhere, in every room. On the floor, even, as if that proved how sexual she was. She was all the sensual he could handle and then some. She was like an erotic Goldilocks, trying out all the beds, all the positions, looking for just right. It was all just right to him.
She said they could screw each other’s brains out and nothing would change. So far, that seemed to be true. He hoped to God it was, because he liked everything the way it was.
Except for this, he thought uneasily, as the three dancers headed his way, a curvy conga line of trouble. Heidi stayed put. She’d sent them on some mission. She looked up at him and waggled her fingers. His heart lifted and he smiled a smile so big it hurt. Tone it down, he told himself, but he waved back anyway.
Then he realized he’d been so distracted he’d failed to announce the next dancer. He corrected that and put on her music. Meanwhile, the trio tromped in, Autumn in the lead. He turned on his stool to face them, folding his arms, braced for the story. “What’s up, ladies?”
“We need to talk about some improvements to our working conditions,” Autumn said.
“Like what?”
“Like a real dressing room, for one thing, with some privacy. Stalls in the bathroom, bulbs in all the makeup lights. All the lights.”
“We need new electrical,” Nevada added. “So we’re not blowing fuses and risking a fire.”
“And a childcare allowance,” Jasmine blurted.
The other two stared at her.
“Well? It’s an employee benefit.”
“The point is, Jax, we’re the talent,” Autumn said. “We’re why the people come. We need some consideration.”
“Consideration?”
“Serenity to revive our creative juices,” Jasmine threw in.
“Your creative…what?” What the hell was Heidi doing to him?
“She means get the cleaning supplies out of our dressing room,” Autumn said. “You can use that room with broken chairs for the break room and for storage. Give us the dressing room. Dancers only.”
She had a point, he guessed, and at least that was a practical suggestion.
“Plus, we should be paid to practice,” Nevada tossed in. “Real dancers get that.”
“You have your routines down. You want to add a little something, you come in early. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that Nevada’s working up some new choreography,” Autumn said, “and we’ll need a costume allowance. Jasmine will make the outfits, but we need cash for fabric, trim and accent pieces.”
“It’s the New Burlesque,” Nevada said. “It’s telling a story, not just grinding away on the pole and waving T and A. Heidi saw a news piece.”
“There’s nothing wrong with T and A. Customers like the basics.”
“Customers settle for the basics. They don’t know any better. They’ll love the new stuff.” Autumn’s eyes flamed at him and her chin shot up. She was a dog with a bone when she got an idea in her head. Dammit, Heidi.
“I’ll talk to Duke,” he said to appease them.
“Jax.”
“Okay, okay. Jeez. Tell Taylor to give you a couple hundred from the bar for the costumes. But show me these new routines before you get too far.”
“What about the other stuff? The dressing room and the brownouts?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“We can circulate a petition with the other dancers if we have to. There are other clubs, you know….”
“I’ll work on it,” he said, shaking his head.
“We’ll count on you then,” Autumn said gravely.
“Oooh, I’m up next,” Nevada said, spinning and heading for the door.
“Me, too,” Jasmine said, heading off after her. She paused to blow him a kiss. “Power to the people. Ciao.”
Hell.
Autumn remained standing with him.
“This whole idea come from Heidi?” he asked her. “The working conditions and the act?”
“She got us talking.”
He turned on his stool to look out at the woman in question, who was staring anxiously in his direction. When their eyes met, her smile broadened. He should be pissed, but he couldn’t even work up irritation when she looked at him that way.
He felt Autumn beside him. “Hey…” Her stare felt like a stab in the side of his face.
He dragged his eyes from Heidi to her. “What?”
“You were looking at Heidi like she’s what’s for dinner.”
He shrugged.
“And she’s looking up at you like come and get it. What did you do, Jackson?”
“Nothing. I—”
“You slept with that poor girl again, didn’t you? She said it was just once.”
“She told you we slept together?” That surprised him.
“We dragged it out of her, but it sounded like a one-time thing.”
“It was. And then…it wasn’t. But it’s under control.”
“You’ll break her heart, you big, dumb lug,” she said.
He cringed internally, a little worried. “She knows what she wants, believe me.” Especially with sex. She’d spelled it out with moans and whispers and touches and cries.
“She’s a baby, Jax, with a shiny new heart that’s never been cracked. I know the signs.” Autumn had a track record with fast-talking guys who made promises they never delivered on.
“She says it’s just sex.”
Heidi looked up again and waved at him as eagerly as a cheerleader in a parade. His mouth went dry.
“She’s flippin’ enchanted,” Autumn said with exasperation.
He gave a faint wave. She did look a little stunned and the sort of happy that hurt like hell when it disappeared. He kind of felt that way, too.
“You have to break it off. Look at her.”
Maybe Autumn was right. Just because sex was enough for him, didn’t mean it was enough for her, even if she thought it was. Look at her.
Damn. He really wanted to fall asleep with her tonight. Listening to her breathing drop into sleep after sex melted off the tension of the bar better than anything he’d known. What reason could he give? You’ll get hurt? She’d smack him for that.
“Hello?” Autumn ran her hand before his eyes.
�
��What? Yeah. Okay. I’ll end it, all right? Quit hassling me.”
“She’s heading up here, so you can tell her now.”
“You know, you keep it up, I’ll buy your whips and leather myself.”
“Sounds fun. For now, play that song from your musician friends. The first cut. My favorite.”
He nodded and she kissed him on the cheek. “It’ll be okay, Jax. It’s for the best. And talk to Duke for us.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his heart heavy. He turned to his CD rack and searched out the music Autumn wanted, dreading Heidi’s arrival.
“Hey, you.” Her husky voice made his heart sing.
“Hey, yourself.” He wanted to wrap her up tight in his arms, somehow prepare her for the letdown, but he knew that if he touched her, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He turned on his stool to look at his laptop.
“I like this song,” she said, made shy by the hesitation she must have seen in his face.
“It’s a couple of studio guys I like. There’s a singer who would do great with them.”
“Why don’t you put them together?”
“It’s a hassle. The musicians are laid back and the singer’s Type A. They’d need a manager to really make it work.”
“So be the manager. Sounds like you’ve already figured out what has to happen.”
“That takes time. I work nights.”
“There’s a lot you could handle during the day. Taylor would cover if you had to take some time off.”
He shrugged, not wanting to get into this with all they had to discuss hanging like a fat, ugly rain cloud in the air.
“Are you afraid it won’t work out? Like the radio station?”
“Stop throwing me on your couch again,” he said, trying to sound lighthearted. She was close to questions he didn’t want to answer.
“Don’t get grouchy, you big bear. I’m just trying to help.” She gave his forearm a playful squeeze. Which gave him a killer erection. He was so easy when it came to her.
But she was vulnerable, as Autumn had said. The more time that passed, the more her hopes would rise. He had to look out for her. Close off the hurt early, cauterize it while it was small. Hell, he’d made what they shared sound like a bloody wound.