I clicked a couple more forgettable songs into the lineup and left the studio. I hoped Carmen was in so I wouldn’t have to figure out where the house-speaker control panel was hidden.
I intended to blast our last morning show together throughout the entire building.
Go big or go home, right?
After all my deviations this morning from our catalogue, I just might be going home.
For good.
I was willing to take that chance.
Halfway to Carmen in reception, the music in the hallway changed and the KLVR Rocks Your Face Off station ID–the one we play at the top of the hour–hit me square in the ears.
Holy crap. It was seven o’clock already, and Carmen must have made the switch herself.
Whoa. A quarter of our last show gone.
And what had I accomplished?
Not a goddamn thing.
I remembered what else seven a.m. meant–the first Rubbish Report of the morning.
Jen had an open mic and the booth all to herself.
I spun and sprinted back to the studio, trying to make out what she was saying above the pounding of my feet.
I heard Phoenix and leaving just as I arrived. I threw the door open so hard the doorknob got stuck in the wall.
“Don’t say another word!” I thundered, not giving shit one that her microphone was picking me up.
“Well, apparently, Tack is sensitive to any bad news about Joaquin Phoenix’s love life,” Jen drawled, giving me the stink-eye. “What about all of you? Do you care that he’s dating a much younger woman? Chime in on my Facebook page and let me know. We’ll be back to the music after we run a few ads to pay our bills.”
My vision was shaky around the edges, and I couldn’t tell if the cause was my chest heaving from the hallway marathon or because I was half a step away from insanity.
Jensen slid her headphones down around her neck and cocked an eyebrow at me. Before she could say anything, her phone buzzed again; she glanced at it, mumbling, “Not now,” then went back to the dirty look. “That was uncalled for.”
My voice came out a little louder and a lot more unsteady than I’d intended. That’ll teach me to skip the daily runs. “I’m sorry, Jen. But when I heard you say Phoenix–”
“You decided not to trust me.” Her eyes were locked on mine and didn’t waver.
“What? No,” I said, taking two steps into the booth. Strangely, I couldn’t seem to get a handle on my breathing and everything I said was a shout. “I didn’t make any decision at all.”
“So you inherently don’t trust me, then.”
This was coming out all wrong. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“Then how would you put it?” A muscle in her jaw twitched and that flying eyebrow crashed down to mirror the other, angry, one. “Oh, wait, you wouldn’t put it any way at all. Not Tack Morgan, the notorious ladies’ man. No explanations and no second dates, right?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I stalked closer, barely resisting the urge to stomp my way over like a two-year-old.
“Every day when I get home, I keep waiting for the delivery of yellow roses at the door. That’s how you do it, isn’t it? You clam up and let the florist do your dirty work.”
Who told her about that? Like it even mattered right then. “If I wanted to blow you off with flowers, I’d just hand them to you myself, Jen. You live in my house.” At long last, my voice came out even and quiet, although, in my head, I was bellowing at a billion decibels. If only the little pixie actually knew how much self-control I had…
“Not for much longer.”
I rolled my eyes. “And you know how I feel about that.”
“No, Tack, truly I don’t. I know what you’ve said, but that doesn’t mean that’s how you feel. Your job is to be good with words, and to convince people that you mean what you say, even when whatever you’re saying doesn’t mean much at all.”
“I’m far more than my job, sweetheart.” I was near enough to prop a hand on the counter and lean over her menacingly. I wasn’t surprised when her chin rose a stubborn inch higher and she kept her narrowed eyes right on mine.
“How would I know? Everywhere you go, you’re Tack Morgan, Radio Icon. You pull on your celebrity and your arrogance like a superhero suit. But it’s really a barricade, Tack, designed to keep everyone out.”
That one stung. Knowing my strengths does not make me arrogant. I felt my jaw tick and wondered if all that grinding was doing permanent damage to my teeth. Jesus. “Then it does exactly what it’s supposed to do! You have no idea what it’s like to be a private person living a very public Las Vegas life–You just got here, and you’re leaving again before notoriety can come calling and clobber you over the head.”
“But I’m not the public, Tack!”
“No, you’re the woman I fell in love with!” I roared into her face.
And, apparently, also right into her open microphone.
At the edge of my vision, the backlit Live emblem glowed green and bright on her side of the counter. She’d never turned it off when she went to commercial…
Fuuuuuuck.
I straightened up, not sure if I’d sworn out loud, and while saying fuck on-air would be guaranteed to get me fired, I was more concerned with what I’d just confessed to the entire metro area. Jen just stared at me wide-eyed with her jaw hovering somewhere in the vicinity of her knees.
Before either of us could process my unexpected declaration, the entire universe completely exploded.
Every last phone line flashed with incoming callers as a mob of Cirrus personnel hooted and howled their way down our hallway.
Then it hit me–I’d just broadcast to anyone with ears that I was in love with Jensen MacKenzie.
And the most important pair of ears belonged to the bewitching skater-pixie herself.
I rushed to close the door. That’s when I found out about the hole I’d put in the wall with the doorknob.
Because the knob was still stuck in it.
Yanking hard and raining plaster onto the floor, I wrestled the door free in time to slam it in Carmen’s face. How in the hell had she made it down from Reception so fast?
Punching the lock button, I turned to face Jen dead-on. She’d managed to close her mouth, but still looked stunned. I’m pretty sure my face looked the same.
So.
I’d gone and blurted out exactly how I felt–before I’d even realized it myself.
You’d think I’d feel lighter. More relaxed. Happy, even.
So why did it feel like that stupid four-letter word had just built an impenetrable wall in the middle of the control room?
Maybe because the object of my affections looked at me like I’d just confessed to parading around in women’s underwear.
Or maybe it had to do with the mob clamoring outside the door, crowding to get a peek through the skinny window.
I dragged a hand through my hair and watched Jensen, waiting. The next move had to be hers.
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.
Good enough for me.
I was across the room in two strides, too fast for her to stop me. My hands grasped her shoulders and my lips crashed down on hers.
Fireworks and stars exploded behind my eyes, and Jen’s soft moan barely cut through the roaring in my ears. I felt her arms snake around my ribcage and I responded by sliding one hand down her back to crush her into my chest. The other inched over to cradle her jaw, my thumb tracing slow circles over the silky skin of her cheek.
Her tongue invaded my mouth and her hands trailed down my spine; I groaned and practically pulled her from the chair, oblivious to our surroundings, desperate to feel as much of her against me as possible.
I wanted this woman with every last shred of my soul; how the hell did that happen?
A distant voice of sanity shouted from a backroom in my mind, rendering me marginally cognizant of where we were. I pulled back slightly, nipping at her lips an
d trying (with only minimal success) to cool down. Sweeping a chain of kisses over the line of her jaw, I found myself murmuring Don’t go between each brush of my mouth against her skin. Then it was just her name, both an invocation and a prayer, roughly echoing through my lips.
It was the muffled cheering that brought me back to Earth. Well, that and the pounding on the door.
I shifted away from her with great effort and looked down at her face. Her eyes opened slowly, revealing the same glazed stare I was certain was in mine. Her lips, dusky red and pouting, were parted and a sigh whispered up to my ears.
I heard Milo shouting something unintelligible from out in the hall. Of all the voices to penetrate my fog… I reluctantly swiveled my head and his laughing face and pointing finger were the most prominent in the slot window next to the door.
“Are we on the air?” Jensen mumbled breathlessly.
I muttered an oath and beat feet back to my side of the counter. Two mouse clicks later and something by Muse began blasting through the speakers in the corridor.
I do not want to go out tonight. I know, I know… everyone wants to say goodbye to Jensen, but I can’t help feeling that what I want should trump what they want.
And what I wanted was to sink inside her body until sun-up.
Wasn’t the gigantic cake they brought into the studio and plopped on the counter enough? Wasn’t their parading through the booth for the rest of our show, making it impossible for me and Jen to have a word alone, sufficient?
We answered the phone lines until it got to be overwhelming and put the whole shebang on automatic busy. The general consensus from listeners was positive, and the overwhelming response from station employees was along the lines of It’s about damn time.
Strangely, we heard not a peep from BK. The chunky bastard didn’t even swing by for cake. Guess I’d dodged a bullet there (a quiet inquiry to Carmen revealed that, if I did utter the f-bomb, it wasn’t picked up by the microphone).
While everyone was munching down, I slipped out into the corridor and canceled the day’s appointment with Dr. Cooper. No way was I wasting a single minute that I had left with Jen in town.
And then there was the ride back home after work.
We’d walked to my car without speaking. For me, the appropriate time to say anything had already passed and was now firmly into awkward territory. I don’t know what Jen was using as her excuse. Maybe she’d wanted to wait until we weren’t surrounded by co-workers.
The silence was heavy inside my small Toyota; rather than break it, Jensen chose to watch the outside world go by through the passenger window. I couldn’t bring myself to switch on the radio to cover up the quiet.
I must have glanced at her four hundred times, hoping to catch her eye, but that wasn’t gonna happen unless the eye in question miraculously migrated to the back of her skull. I think I did a pretty good job of keeping my sighs to myself. But seriously, what was with this woman? I tell her I love her and she’s got nothing to say? It’s not like she hadn’t had a few hours to try it on and see how it fit.
A few streets from home, just as the drone of the tires on the pavement was on the edge of driving me batshit, Jensen cleared her throat and turned to face me.
“Are you going with me to Pulse tonight? Or am I going alone?”
She finally speaks to me, and this is what she chooses to talk about? And here I’d assumed things couldn’t get any more surreal. “How ‘bout neither of us go?”
“Tack, it’s a goodbye party in my honor. I have to at least put in an appearance.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her worry at her bottom lip. “Never mind. I’ll go by myself.”
I pulled in the driveway and threw the car in park. “If you think you’re getting more than two inches away from me this weekend, you’re crazy.”
She responded by getting out of the car and heading for the front door.
I followed, eating up her steps in just a few long strides and catching up on the front porch. “Jen–”
She spun to face me, locking her eyes on mine before flicking her gaze down to my lips, and I lost it. I slammed her into the front wall, crashing my mouth onto hers. Dammit if she wasn’t there right along with me, her lips opening to let me in. As my tongue swept inside, a fluttering sigh drifted up from her throat and her arms slid around my neck.
I grabbed her ass in both hands and ground the hard-on I’d had all morning into her pelvis. It’s a wonder I didn’t crush her into dust. Every instinct screamed to somehow pull her inside myself and never let her go. But we were on my porch in clear view of the entire neighborhood. Not the most ideal place to strip her clothes off.
“Let’s go in the house,” I mumbled against her mouth and felt her shaky nod.
I reluctantly pulled back and let her go, fumbling through the keys on my ring to find the one for the front door, impatient to get inside (take that any way you like). Of course, that meant that I dropped the whole jangling mess on the concrete pad in front of the door.
Jensen blew out a loud breath and bent down to pick them up. She found the right key and put it in the lock; I noticed her hands were trembling when she pushed the door open.
I didn’t bother waiting for her to pull the key out of the deadbolt. Shoving the door shut with my foot, I had her back in my arms and under my lips while the dogs clamored around our feet for their greeting. Too bad for them. They weren’t getting one.
Bending to scoop her up, I cupped my hands under her backside and slid her up my legs, stopping when the cradle of her thighs was nestled against me so tightly I thought I would burst.
“My God, Jen,” I rasped between kisses.
She squirmed her hips against my crotch and smiled against my mouth. “I wanna get you naked.”
She didn’t have to say it twice. We careened down the hall to my room, her thighs still wrapped around my hips, and the dogs wisely nowhere to be found. Still, I managed to close the door with a hook of my heel because neither one of my hands was willing to let go of Jensen’s body.
Most of my brain screamed to just yank down the necessary clothing parts and plunge inside her, while the rest of me wanted to explore every last inch of her skin. And since this was Jen, and since this was love (at least it was for me), the fraction that begged me to linger won out.
Disentangling her legs from around me, I lowered her gently back to the floor, our lips still locked like our very existence depended on it. I know mine did.
My hands skimmed under the hem of her tee, bunching the shirt on her body as my fingertips traveled lightly up and over her ribs. I paused when I reached her breasts, enfolding the beautiful mounds of flesh in my palms so I could pass a thumb over their centers. I heard her sharp intake of breath at the first caress over the thin fabric of her bra, and I didn’t have to wonder why. Her nipples were pebbled and hard and in desperate need of more attention.
For my own sanity, I had to oblige.
I shimmied her shirt up over her head, then my patience slipped and I pushed her bra out of the way instead of taking it off. I squeezed both tight points, increasing the pressure when she gasped and shuddered against me. My lips worked their way down her jawline, and my groan shot straight into her ear when her hand molded my cock through the denim and started to knead.
To hell with slow.
“Take my jeans off,” I murmured into her skin as I started in on her buttons to do the same.
Instead, she started with the top button of my shirt, pushing it down over my shoulders and raking her nails down my abs to my zipper. Slower than I ever could have imagined, she lowered the thing, tooth by goddamn tooth.
It was exquisite torture.
I wanted to commit each detail to memory, but as her jeans, and finally that bra, joined her shirt in a heap on the carpet, the only thoughts I could register were perfect and beautiful and more.
More caresses, tasting every one of her beautiful curves with my lips and tongue, the sheer perfection of her hands roaming ove
r my skin. I’d backed her to the bed and, without breaking contact, lowered her down until my body covered hers. It seems impossible that I didn’t pass out—the electricity was humming under my skin from every touch of her fingers.
I tugged on the strap of her panties. “These gotta go,” I whispered against the curve of her neck. She raised her hips so I could shimmy them off and, despite the pounding of the pulsebeats in my ears, I made out the faint sound of tearing fabric.
“Sorry,” I mumbled into her skin.
“Sorry for what? I shredded your boxer briefs when I yanked them off. I should be the one apologizing,” she murmured into my hair with a soft chuckle.
“Never apologize for ripping off my clothes. You can do it every day until I have to wander around naked.”
She laughed again as I reached into my nightstand for a condom and tore the packet open with my teeth.
And FYI—just because I haven’t brought a woman home doesn’t mean I don’t keep them by the bed. I gotta store them somewhere.
When she rolled on the Trojan, I thought I was going to come right then and there.
I was breathing in little pants–so was she–making my head spin with an astonishing yearning I’d never experienced in my life.
“Now, Tack. Please,” she gasped into my lips. “I need you inside me.” She squirmed beneath me and dug her nails into the cheeks of my ass to drive her point home.
I hesitated, even though I’d never wanted anything more in my whole existence, gathering my scattered wits. There’d be no forgetting this. Once she leaves and all I have are memories, this would be the one that I’d take out and relive until it was old and tattered, in every agonizing, full-color detail.
This was not sex or bumping uglies or mere fucking.
This was the first time in all my life that I was making love.
I pulled back, tucking a snapshot of her face into the album in my head labeled ‘Jensen’; her lips were parted and swollen from kisses and a flush of color stained her cheeks. I didn’t make it beyond her eyes, though. She could have had a shaved head and, at that moment, I wouldn’t have noticed. The usual feisty amber irises had darkened to warm brandy, and instead of the slightly glazed look I was expecting, they shone clear and straight into my soul.
Waking Up in Vegas Page 20