She looked down at her fidgeting fingers. “I don’t know. It just seemed too…” she flipped her gaze back to mine, “coincidentally perfect.”
I sighed and did my best to quash the flash of temper that she only slightly deserved. “I’m a little raw and sitting here with the biggest set of blue balls of my entire life, so I might be a lot thick right now, but let me try to decipher this, anyway. You think I arranged a seduction just so I could put the brakes on in the middle of it?”
She shrugged and said, “Then you could be blameless when you left me hanging and I attacked you?”
“Wait—what?”
“Love ’em and leave ’em, every time. I know what you’re like, Tack.”
I could not believe the turn this conversation was taking. “What I’m like?”
Jen’s head bobbed in assent. “Yeah. I’m handy and you’re randy.”
She did not just Princess Bride me. “We are not playing rhyme time.”
She gave me a tremulous smile. “It could be sublime.”
I knew she was just trying to diffuse the tension, but still. “It would have been sublime if I had continued kissing my way down your body. But I remind you that I was the one who stopped—and left myself hanging, too.”
Her face sobered and she was back to the finger-staring. “It does sound stupid when you put it that way.”
I shook my head. “It sounds stupid when you put it any way. You were willing. Hell, I was ready and willing. And then my damned moral compass popped up.”
She snorted a laugh and bit her lower lip. “That’s not all that popped up.” Jen was back to looking at me and my one raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry about the frustration.”
I held her gaze steadily and disclosed, for reasons I couldn’t comprehend, “I’m used to it.”
“What?”
“In all damn honesty, Jensen, I get blue balls Every. Single. Day. that I see you.”
She didn’t even say, “Oh,” which confirmed my assumption that she knew I had been fiercely attracted to her all along.
“I know you usually go out to a club for that sort of thing, so if you wanted to…” To her credit, she waited ‘til the very end to look away.
One single laugh jumped out of my throat. “Are you suggesting that I go out and get laid, Jen?”
She looked around the room uncomfortably and gave me a half-hearted shrug.
“No. As long as you’re here in my house, I will not be going clubbing and picking up women. And before you ask, I’ve never brought any of them home to my bed. So it’s not that.”
“Then why?” Her voice was a shade above a whisper.
“Because other women are not what I want.”
Fast-forward to me lying in my bed, determined not to beat off to solve my problem. She was right down the hall, and I was pretty sure she was floating in the same overstimulated boat as me. If I walked down to her room right now, I didn’t think she would turn me away.
I stuck a pillow between my knees and rolled over so I couldn’t see out my open bedroom door any more.
***
I didn’t sleep much, waking up every half an hour or so, and finally quit torturing myself at three-thirty.
The dogs followed me down the hall to the kitchen, and, as was becoming our routine, out they went while I did the coffee. I guess it was too dark for them, ‘cause they wanted to come back in by the time I’d finished preparing the pot.
I considered grabbing the first shower and having all the hot water for myself, then I considered sharing the shower so that neither one of us would have to freeze. By the time I dragged myself out of that fantasy, it was two minutes to Jen’s alarm-time and I knew she’d be the one having the warm shower again today.
I’d walked to her bedroom with the intent of watching her sleep from the doorway. Again. I wondered briefly if there was a name for such peeping, and if it was considered a psychological affliction.
Or addiction, in my case.
But like a sky filled with shooting stars, she held me mesmerized.
I knelt down next to her bed, content for the moment to just drink her in. Her lips parted with a sigh in her sleep. I leaned closer, meaning to steal a tiny kiss to start my day. She’d never even know.
I leaned forward, just inhaling her sweet breath for a moment, and brushed my mouth over hers, light as her exhale. When I pulled back, she whimpered and tilted her face toward mine, like she was seeking me in her sleep.
Since I was still so close, I obliged, sweeping over her lips again softly. Her answering sigh was bewitching, daring me to take just one more taste. I sipped at her mouth, taking first her upper lip between mine, then that favorite of mine, the slightly pouty lower one.
Too late, I realized she was awakening. Her hand came up and I braced myself for the impact from Miss Smackety. It never came. Her fingers wove into my hair and tugged me back.
God help me.
All night, as I’d lain awake, I’d convinced myself her reaction was because of the beer.
“Liar,” I whispered against her mouth.
She giggled softly. “How do you know I wasn’t drinking all night long?”
I skimmed my lips over hers again and again, not daring to take it deeper with the bed so very right there. “Honestly? I hardly slept,” I finally answered.
Her reply was to wrap her arms around my neck and pull me in. She obviously wasn’t giving up until she’d had a proper Good Morning. I silently vowed to stay off that mattress and let her have it.
And damned if she didn’t turn it around and give it to me, instead. She had no intention of starting off either slow or gentle—her mouth was open under mine and the little moans coming from the back of her throat threatened the promise I’d made to keep my knees on the carpet.
Our tongues danced and tangled, that flashfire returning like it had never stopped.
I traced my fingertips down her cheek, and realized my hand was trembling. I didn’t dare touch anywhere else—her throat would require kisses, her shoulders a drag of my nails to make her shiver, and we weren’t even talking below her collarbone yet. So on her face my hand stayed or we’d both find ourselves calling in sick today.
And wouldn’t that go over well.
“Jen,” I murmured, diving back in for another brain-bending sweep of her lips, “baby, we have to stop.”
If you’d told me two months ago that those words would pass my lips not once but twice in a twelve hour span, I’d have asked if you knew who you were talking to.
Now? I had no idea how I was going to make it until the end of our time-slot without having a breakdown. Because seriously, I think a man can die from lust overload.
If the symptoms were rapid, shallow breathing, shaking hands (the last time my hands weren’t steady on a woman’s skin was the very first time my hands were on a woman’s skin), an inability to think, and balls bluer than a smurf, then I had it.
I should kiss her awake every morning. Even if I have to get in my car and drive over to her condo to do it.
This was absolutely the best stint at work that I could ever remember having.
I flipped on my mic as a song wound through the outro, talking over the end. I know people hated that, but this morning, I didn’t care. “That was Queens of the Stone Age playing ‘No One Knows.’” Jen winked at me from the other side of the counter and I almost forgot what I was doing. “We’ll get back to the music here in a bit, but first, I need Jensen”—she covered her microphone and nearly choked on her coffee. Served her right—“to give us the final traffic update. Jen?”
“Thanks, Tack. It’s been a fabulous morning, with no road blocks or delays that we’re aware of here in the KLVR booth. Keep it up, Las Vegas!”
Her smoldering stare had me glad I’d worn my loosest Dockers. I cut right to commercial, not trusting that my voice wouldn’t come out strangled.
I checked to make sure my microphone was off. “Keep it up? Do you have any idea just how long it stays
up when I’m here?”
Jen gave me an air-kiss across the counter and laughed. My balls tightened at the sound and I wished it was ten o’clock already.
Then the part about no road blocks sunk in. She was going to be in so much trouble when we got home. I was officially done second-guessing and taking the high road, and hoped she was, too. I intended to leave her exhausted and walking funny.
Near the end of our shift, BK’s assistant popped in to the booth and told Jen that the boss wanted to see her as soon as she could break free.
Jensen, being Jensen, wasn’t the least bit concerned.
I, however, was. Greatly.
I was in forced counseling for sexual misconduct. We’d been flirting like mad all morning—on the air. Good lord, what if the boss had been listening?
Jen was verboten, a co-worker. One who just happened to be beautiful, desirable, and staying at my house.
She was also one more fiery kiss away from being naked underneath me in my bed.
Needing to know, and sensing that what he wanted was anything but good news, I told Jen I could cover the last fifteen minutes on my own and she should go on upstairs.
She came over to my side of the counter and leaned in to give me a peck on the cheek. It killed me, but I held her off and turned my face away.
“What gives?” The hurt in her eyes stabbed me right through the sternum.
“Jen,” I started, flicking my eyes to the (thankfully clear) doorway and back again, “I am one step away from being fired for fraternizing. Even if any affection is mutual, I don’t think it would be accepted here right now.”
She shifted her weight to her heels and crossed her arms. “You’re in trouble for harassment, not dating. There’s nothing in company rules against relationships between employees.”
“That’s not how I remember them. And besides that–”
She shushed me with a finger over my lips. “The rules you made up for yourself do not apply to the entire staff. And besides,” she said, just to mock me, I’m sure, “I read the company handbook just recently, remember? So trust me on this.”
She turned on her heel and flounced out, somehow certain that there were no worries to be had here.
The lead ball in my stomach said differently.
I stuck around for a bit, tidying my useless desk and chatting over nothing with the other jocks who came and went through our bullpit. Jensen was still in the boss’s office. And I knew that for certain. The reason I was hanging out by my desk was that I could see through the sales director’s door and out his window, into the parking lot. Jensen’s SUV was still parked right where she’d left it this morning.
After half an hour, I gave up. She’d be home eventually.
… And she was, breezing through the door not long after I arrived.
I brushed my lips over her forehead (anywhere else and she’d make me forget that I needed answers) and asked her about her meeting with Bill Kalani.
“He offered me a different job.”
Huh?
She rolled her eyes at the stupefied expression on my face. “When I first sent my resume to Cirrus Radio, I indicated that I was interested in the Phoenix market. You know, because of my parents. Apparently, there’s a slot opening up there in a month and he wondered if I wanted to consider it.”
I felt my heart drop. No, really. I felt it actually bounce off my ankles. “And what did you say?”
“Obviously, that I’m not interested.” She leaned in and wrapped an arm around my waist, tilting her face up toward mine. “I’m getting settled here. I’ve got ties.”
I smirked down at her. “I’ve never seen you wear a tie. But if you’re referring to getting tied up—or down…” I deflected, not ready for The Serious Conversation yet. I’d been riding the emotion train for just about twenty-four hours now and needed to get off.
Not that way.
Well, okay, that way, too; but I am trying to be serious here.
True to form, Jensen smacked me. And blushed. I liked that part. “I’m buying a condo, I have new friends, I already moved my bank account, I’m getting a fan base… and there’s you,” she finished softly.
My heart skipped a few beats, which I didn’t understand—It’s not like we were a couple or anything. I wanted her desperately—duh—but mostly, I just liked having her around.
All I said was, “Me?”
Her other arm joined the first one around my waist, and I felt every incredible inch of her against my body.
Hello, Mr. Stiffy, and thanks for joining us again today.
Jen’s slow smile told me that she noticed the stirring against her belly. “Yeah, you.” She let her head fall back and looked at me through half-lidded eyes. “You can’t tell me you’re not curious to see where this goes.”
“I know exactly where it goes.”
“Yeah? Then show me.”
Coherent thought evaporated.
I spun and smashed her into the living room wall, crushing her lips with mine. My tongue invaded her mouth, not waiting for an invitation. She didn’t seem to mind, answering every thrust with one of her own, those little whimpers I craved going from the back of her throat straight down to my groin.
Her hands crept over my shoulders to land, interlocked, behind my neck, yanking me down even closer. I obliged, since that put my hands in the vicinity of her ass, and I needed to fill my palms with her more than I needed my next breath.
I wasn’t sure that I was breathing, anyway.
I scooped her up easily, dragging one hand underneath her thigh to hook it around my waist. Smart girl that she was, she took the hint and wrapped the other one around me, too. I pressed her into the wall, ostensibly to hold her up, but really, I needed to feel her against my throbbing dick before it killed me.
And holy crap, maybe it had, because she started a grinding action with her hips that practically had the top of my head blowing off.
We had too many clothes on.
She’d worn a shirt with buttons, and for the life of me, I couldn’t get the little pearls through the holes to take it off. I realized my fingers were trembling and took a deep inhale to steady them. Hey, look at that. I actually was breathing. I let an exhale out on a groan against her lips when her hands unwound from my neck to start undoing the buttons herself.
Once again, we were totally in sync.
I sucked in an unsteady breath and swept my tongue alongside hers, wishing I could just move into her and stay a while.
My need for her was beyond reason, beyond control, and it scared the ever-loving crap out of me.
But not enough to stop.
Because maybe, if I gave in to her gravitational pull, it would finally let me go and I could get back to my life again.
She had her blouse open and I could feel her fumbling with the front catch on her bra. “Let me, Jen. Please.”
She wrapped her arms behind my head again and I broke away from her lips, taking slow tastes of her skin as I made my way down to the lacy edge of satin that covered her. I swept my tongue underneath, tasting the sweetness that belonged to Jen alone, and she shuddered. I did it again, and her breathing became uneven, every exhale bringing a tiny sound from her throat.
Trailing my fingertips down the smooth fabric until I could cup the full weight of her breasts in my hands, I teased her nipples with gentle passes of my thumbs. Her head dropped back into the wall, and her moan sounded like it was ripped involuntarily from her throat.
Much as I loved having her here, I couldn’t pay proper homage to her breasts in this position, because we’d be in full view of the neighbors through the open living room curtains.
I straightened, testing the strength of her legs around me. Satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere, I surrounded her with my arms and rained kisses on her face as I headed toward my bedroom, heeling the door shut to keep the dogs out.
I couldn’t bear to let her go, even for the brief moment it would take to lower us both to the mattress.
I sat on the edge of the bed with Jen straddling my lap, back to worshipping her lips with mine.
Who knew kissing could be this devastating?
With a mumble of “About damn time,” she let her hands travel—down my ribs, ghosting over my abdomen, and gathering the bottom of my shirt in her fingers. She started a slow slide upward, gliding her palms along my skin until the fabric was bunched across my chest and could go no further.
I pushed her blouse off her shoulders, and when she let it slide over her arms to the floor behind her, I peeled off my tee. One layer to go until glorious skin-on-skin, and hesitation was not in my vocabulary any longer. I finally unhooked that bra clasp, slowly separating the pieces to reveal the most perfect breasts ever created.
Her rosy nipples were already pebbled and tight, begging for my attention, but we were still in the wrong position. I couldn’t think of an easy way to get her under me—Christ, I couldn’t really think at all. So I eased onto my back and left her in charge.
Once again, she was reading my mind. With a slow striptease, she shrugged off one strap, then the other, and crawled up my body to dangle her nipples right where I wanted them to be.
Molding my hands around her, I prolonged my own torture, dragging my thumbs over the hard points again and again. Jen was quivering above me, her head thrown back, gasps of pleasure getting louder with each pass of my thumbs.
Then I took a nipple between my lips, and I swear to God, she screamed. With a stroke of my tongue, her arms shook, and when I added a little nip with my teeth, they buckled completely.
Sweet fucking lord.
I wasn’t immune to the carnage I was inflicting on her body. Could there be a more perfect partner for me than Jensen MacKenzie? It was as if her every reaction was designed to ratchet up my arousal. The pulse beat through me like a bass drum, and if I didn’t at least lower the zipper on my pants, I could be doing permanent damage.
But freeing Willy had to be all Jen’s idea, or it wasn’t happening. I rolled us to the side, trapping her underneath me, and began a campaign to render her senseless. Gently rolling her nipples between my fingers, I steadily increased the pressure, learning what she liked, how much she could take. When her hips began to roll, I took one of those tight, pink points between my lips again, nipping and sucking until she was gasping for air.
Waking Up in Vegas Page 12