by Cora Brent
He waited for me to sit back down, but I didn’t sit. I stood beside him and slid my fingers up his muscled arm. He watched the progress of my hand and a look of comprehension dawned. He hadn’t really expected me to say yes to his proposition. But I just wanted him to take me out of here before I did something sensible and changed my mind.
“Let’s go,” I said.
CHAPTER TEN
My right arm was being crushed. From the elbow down it was wedged beneath the frame of a tiny toppled crane that looked like it had been built for Barbie dolls yet was substantial enough to keep a piece of my body pinned. There was no pain, but my attempts to yank the arm out from the maw of the Barbie crane were fruitless. Then a wave of thunderous applause erupted and I looked up to find my fellow Lester & Brown employees gathered around in a thick circle, all clapping like mad and wearing orange hard hats. I looked down and idly wondered if my coworkers were applauding because I found myself trapped by a tiny crane or because I was completely naked.
With a gasp, I opened my eyes and saw my bedroom ceiling.
Then I realized that the bedsheet had slipped down and my left nipple was exposed. That was odd. I didn’t usually sleep in the nude.
But my right arm was indeed pinned by something, but the something in question did not resemble a Barbie crane. It looked like a naked Jason Roma.
With a groan, I covered my eyes with the hand that wasn’t stuck underneath Jason’s firm, still-sleeping body, and everything came back to me.
We’d left Esposito’s in a hurry, driving straight to my apartment with Jason’s hand on my thigh. Once when we paused at a red light I glanced at his calm profile and thought, “What the fuck am I doing?” But then he turned my way and flashed a smile promising sex and sin. And instead of demanding to be returned to the parking garage so I could retrieve my car and go home to a boring, lonely night with some ice cream and Game of Thrones reruns, I parted my legs and moaned slightly when his hand slid under my skirt, his large, sure fingers boldly searching higher.
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking sexy,” he swore hoarsely, and then the light changed.
By the time we reached my apartment three miles away, I was so into this I was no longer having second thoughts. Like a drunk, I staggered a little when I stepped out of Jason’s car, but he was there instantly, wrapping an arm around my waist. At my apartment door I fumbled with the key until Jason took it from me and unlocked the door with one confident twist.
I reached for the knob but he stepped in front of me, circling each of my wrists in his big hands. He pinned them above my head and I felt the stucco scratching the back of my wrists while he peered down at me. He wasn’t smiling anymore. The look in his eyes was nearly savage with lust, as if he might tear my clothes off and fuck me right there in the corridor. I can’t say I would have objected.
Jason didn’t rip my clothes off, though. He leaned in and kissed me with a slow, tantalizing sweetness that left me melting into the wall. His breath tasted like the mints we’d been offered at the restaurant. Jason had always kissed like he knew every secret of the deed, and I was almost panting by the time he withdrew his tongue.
“You want more?” he asked, pressing into me so I could feel the rock-hard proof of his desire.
I nodded.
“Say it.”
“I want more.”
He nodded with approval. “Because for six years, you’ve been dying for this.”
“Yes.”
Jason released my wrists and opened the door. He held out a hand to me. I took it.
The door was barely closed before we were all over each other. Jason was unapologetic when he ripped my blouse in his haste to get it off. I didn’t care because I was too busy enjoying the feel of his mouth devouring my lace-clad breasts. My bra was pushed down, my skirt pushed up, and my legs went around his waist when he lifted me. We wound up on the couch with me half-naked and straddling him. I felt some mild pressure and a snap. Jason came away with my torn panties and tossed them somewhere unseen. Meanwhile, I was working hard to get the buttons of his shirt open, but they weren’t cooperating fast enough so he ripped it open the rest of the way with a porn-movie-worthy move.
I gasped, pretending to be shocked as I ran my hands over his tanned, muscular chest. “I bet that shirt was expensive.”
He grinned and grabbed my naked hips. “I bet your panties were too.”
I nodded. “They were.”
Jason yanked on the skirt that was bunched around my waist. “Take this off.”
I couldn’t oblige from this position, so I stood up, unzipped, and slid the skirt down. Jason watched.
“Leave the heels,” he ordered, idly rubbing his hand over his cock, which looked ready to bust through the zipper of his pants.
“Now you,” I said, feeling slightly self-conscious about standing in front of him completely naked and wondering if everything looked as good as it did six years ago.
Jason let out a low whistle, quelling my concern. “Just a minute. I want to look at you. You’re as goddamn gorgeous as I remember.”
I climbed into his lap once more, straddling him, feverishly beginning to work his belt and feeling frustrated when he stopped me.
“Not yet,” he said harshly, instead wrapping his hands around my waist and settling me right over his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered, my body beginning to rock back and forth of its own free will as it sought a release from the frantic throbbing between my legs. I was desperate to feel more than the friction from his zipper, but between the restaurant flirting, my own sex deprivation, and the fact that I’d been aching to screw Jason Roma again for years, I was seriously close to the brink. He had me decoded all right. There was no denying how much I’d wanted this for years.
“Jason,” I panted, grinding on him in earnest now, bracing my palms on his strong shoulders just like I’d envisioned in the restaurant. I was on the cusp of dry-humping my way to a hard climax on his pants, and I was just fine with that scenario. The wave crested and then broke with a furious crash that left me shaking and groaning and ready for more, because my orgasms always conquered me in clusters of three.
I was still quivering and half out of my mind, but when I looked down and saw the bald triumph on Jason’s face, I was determined to have him at my mercy as much as I was at his.
“Audrey,” he said sharply when I dropped to my knees from his lap and struggled with his belt and his zipper until there was nothing in my way except a pair of black silk boxers. Jason could have stopped me if he’d really wanted to. He was far bigger and stronger, and he seemed determined to call the shots here. But once I shoved the flimsy fabric aside and had my lips on his dick, he unleashed a colossal groan, tangling his hands in my blonde hair for leverage to push deeper into my mouth. Jason was larger than average and I ached to have him inside me in the old-fashioned sense, but I was also relishing the power that came with controlling his pleasure.
But Jason wasn’t going to let me have my way on this. After less than a minute he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled back, not roughly, just hard enough to get my mouth away from its target audience. I didn’t have time to voice an objection, though, because his mouth immediately collided with mine in a kiss that could only be described as fierce. My eyes closed, my arms slid around his shoulders, and I allowed myself to be carried somewhere, anywhere. It didn’t matter to me, and I only vaguely recognized that mere seconds later I was being deposited on the wide suede-covered chaise lounge that had once sat in a scarcely used room in my parents’ house.
Once I was flat on my back, I opened my eyes to find Jason looming over me. His shirt was off completely. His pants were down. And he held an object aloft with a wry grin.
“Told you I’d find a use for it,” he said, and tore open the foil of the condom that had been carried at the bottom of my purse. I heard myself giggling over the absurdity of all of it, but seconds later when Jason rolled on the condom and parted my legs, I was don
e laughing. The chaise lounge was lower to the floor than a standard couch, and he knelt at the far end and seized my hips, pulling me closer.
“Audrey, did I mention you’re fucking perfect?” Jason asked, but he must not have wanted an answer because an instant later he plunged into me with enough force to make me cry out over the shock of being stretched so abruptly. Jason responded by pushing deeper, harder, ruthlessly, until I was arching my body to give him maximum access and clutching the frame of the chaise lounge. I came and then came again, shrieking Jason’s name the second time. I clutched at his muscled arms, whimpered into his chest, aware that I was utterly at the mercy of his body and loving every minute of it.
Suddenly he paused, pushed the sweaty hair out of my face, and peered down at me. “I want to hear it again,” he said in a gruff voice.
“What?” I whispered.
His grin was triumphant and he bucked his hips slightly. “That you’ve wanted this for years.”
I swallowed. “I’ve wanted you for years, Jason.”
He didn’t answer. Instead his mouth crashed into mine, and the pace of his pounding thrusts grew so frenetic I thought the furniture might crack beneath our bodies. Jason broke the kiss and unleashed a deep moan while I strained to pull him in as deep as possible. He shuddered as he came and I welcomed every furious spasm until he was spent.
“Holy shit, that was good,” he gasped from where his sweaty head was resting on my chest.
I ran my fingers through his short black hair, an unfamiliar feeling of tenderness rising in me as we breathed hard together in the aftermath.
Then I remembered Jason telling me he never had girlfriends.
I remembered he’d been my constant workplace opponent for six years.
I remembered the variety of gorgeous women I’d seen him with, none of whom he ever seemed to take seriously.
I couldn’t afford to forget who I was dealing with. I stopped stroking his hair.
“I hope you brought more condoms than just that one,” I said.
He raised his head and grinned. “I have three more. After that we’ll have to get creative.”
I grinned back. “Challenge accepted.”
We didn’t really have sex till sunrise. The sky was still dark when we finally collapsed in each other’s arms amid the wreckage of my bed.
But now that I was awake, my arm was becoming numb. I had no choice but to shove Jason in another direction. Using the heel of my free hand, I pushed at his back. He didn’t move. I pushed again. He flinched, but my arm was still trapped beneath his hard body.
“Jason,” I hissed.
“Just give me five more minutes,” he groaned, burrowing his head into my pillow. “I’ll eat breakfast at school.”
Where the hell does he think he is?
I cleared my throat. “Jason, it’s me. It’s Audrey. You’re in my apartment.”
He rolled over. Luckily he rolled away so I was able to extricate my deadened arm. And he should feel lucky that my huge California-king bed saved him from rolling right onto the floor.
I rubbed my tingling arm while Jason propped himself up on one elbow and gave me a lazy grin. With his tousled black hair hanging in his eyes and his torso all tangled up in my sheets, he looked like the definition of Sex God. And if there was any doubt that he deserved the title, I now had a bunch of supremely dirty new experiences and a pronounced soreness between my legs that would erase the uncertainty.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, and yawned. “Had a dream I was in high school.”
“That sounds even worse than my dream,” I said.
Jason’s eyes were scanning the exposed parts of my body with interest, so I wrapped myself in a sheet.
“You’re free to make yourself some coffee,” I tossed over my shoulder before escaping to the bathroom and locking the door behind me to make it clear he was not welcome to follow. After languishing beneath a hot shower for a good ten minutes, I dressed hastily in a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt, tying my wet hair into a messy topknot.
Part of me wished Jason would already be gone when I opened the door. And then I realized that was an impractical wish because I needed him to drive me to the parking garage where I’d left my car. I also needed to make sure he understood that the events of last night were just between us. It wasn’t that I was ashamed.
Okay, maybe I’m slightly ashamed.
But it was over. We both got what we wanted. This wouldn’t be happening again.
After a deep breath, I opened the door. Jason hadn’t left. He was sitting at my kitchen table drinking from my green jadeite coffee mug and reading a newspaper.
“Where’d you get that?” I asked.
He pointed to a cabinet. “From there.”
“I meant the newspaper.”
“From outside.”
I crossed my arms. “Jason, did you steal a newspaper from one of my neighbors?”
He turned a page and took a loud sip from my mug. “I’ll put it back when I’m done.”
I rolled my eyes and searched through the cabinet for another coffee mug.
“I already made you a cup,” Jason said. He gestured to my Phoenix Art Museum mug that was waiting across the table. “I added an excessive amount of cream and sugar just like you do at work.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling strangely caught off guard by the fact that Jason Roma had ever paid attention to how I prepare my coffee. On the counter was a cinnamon coffee cake I’d picked up at the grocery store the other day. I brought it to the table and cut a few pieces with a butter knife.
Jason wore only his boxers, and I tried to swallow some breakfast without staring too hard at all the masculinity taking up so much space in my small kitchen. Meanwhile, Jason ate his cake, drank his coffee, read someone else’s newspaper, and seemed perfectly unbothered by this situation.
“What are you doing today?” he asked.
“Thought I’d go into the office and then stop by the hospital to see Jonas.”
Jason looked at me. “Jonas doesn’t know who you are. You didn’t know who he was until he got wedged beneath a crane.”
“So what?” I snapped. “Maybe he’d like a visitor. Maybe he’s just sitting there all alone in his hospital room and wishing—”
“That a strange woman dressed in yoga pants would darken his doorway and nervously ask after his welfare in the hopes he won’t sue the company she works for?”
Instead of firing back, I smiled. “I was going to change out of my yoga pants first.”
He set the newspaper down and boldly checked me out. “You should. Actually, you ought to do that right now. I’ll help you search for something more appropriate. I don’t even believe you’re wearing panties, Audrey.”
I was wearing panties. And they were seconds away from being at risk because I was tempted.
Enormously tempted.
But this could too easily become an everyday thing. And getting too attached to the likes of Jason Roma would be a hazardous proposition. Not to mention the fact that we’d already muddied our working relationship more than enough. There was still a courthouse to build.
“Do you think you could drop me off?” I asked.
He frowned. “Where?”
“I told you, I want to go into the office.”
“It’s Saturday. No one will be there.”
“The engineering department will be there. And there’s bound to be one or two salespeople lurking about the premises.”
Jason stared at me for a moment. Then he shrugged. “All right.”
“Do you think we could leave soon?” I asked.
It was a not-so-subtle way to let him know that carnal pursuits were currently off the table. I only hoped he wouldn’t want to go hang out at work with me.
“Give me five minutes,” Jason said a little gruffly. He folded the newspaper, slapped it down on the table, and began hunting around my apartment for his scattered clothes.
He disappeared into the ba
throom and emerged five minutes later fully dressed. Well, nearly fully dressed. His shirt hung open due to the fact that half the buttons had been ripped off in a lusty frenzy twelve hours ago.
“Jason?” I said gently as he fished his car keys out of his back pocket.
“Yeah?”
“I really had a great time last night.”
He paused and looked me in the eye. “I did too, Audrey.”
The walk from my apartment door to Jason’s car felt off. Perhaps the awkwardness was solely on my end. Jason was whistling a Jimmy Buffett tune. He stopped when we reached his car and opened the passenger side door for me before climbing behind the wheel.
We passed the courthouse site, which wasn’t nearly as busy as it was during the week, but there was still work going on.
“Do you want to stop?” Jason asked.
I would have if I were alone. But I looked at my yoga pants and Jason’s torn shirt and figured that it would be better if we didn’t show up looking like we’d just rolled out of bed together.
“I’ll swing by there later,” I said, knowing that although Barnes wasn’t there today, the second foreman would be on-site at least until noon.
There weren’t many cars in the parking garage. Later it would fill up when the baseball fans were searching for a place to park close to the stadium.
Jason pulled into the empty space beside my Lexus. He shut off the ignition.
“Are you staying?” I asked.
He looked at me. “Do you want me to?”
I didn’t. I needed at least a few hours away from Jason and his smile and his banter and his magnetic sexuality.
“It’s your office too,” I said, and started to open the door.
Jason hit the lock button.
“Is this the way it’s going to be?” he asked. He didn’t sound angry. Just curious and maybe a little baffled. “Are we going to pretend last night never happened?”