Page 26 of Jacking Jill

Jill gasped softly, her fingers curling on his shoulders, her breasts brushing past his chest, her hips grazing the front of Jack’s trousers as they moved together.

Now Jack’s head was buzzing again, and this time it definitely wasn’t the wine, was definitely just the woman.

“Jill,” he said, his voice thick with some emotion too intense to be real but too vivid to be fake. “Jill, listen, I can’t believe I’m saying this when we’ve only known each other a day, can’t believe I’m saying this in a way that actually feels truer than anything I’ve ever said. Hell, I know I shouldn’t say it, especially not after that possessive crap I blurted out in the hotel room. But Jill, I . . . I have to say it, there’s something inside me that needs to say it even though it’s crazy to say it.”

Jill stared up at him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as Jack’s hands tightened around her hips, drawing her swaying body closer as he crept his fingertips around to her lower back, tightening the circle, closing the space between them until they were almost up against each other, almost cheek to cheek, so close that if Jill raised her head even slightly their lips would touch.

And if that happened, he would kiss her.

By God, he would kiss her.

“You . . . you can say it,” Jill murmured, her voice trembly and torn, her eyelids fluttering in a way that Jack could feel against his cheekbones. “Whatever it is, you can say it, Jack.” She moved her head just enough that her nose nuzzled against the side of Jack’s chin. “Please . . .” she whispered, her voice husky and low, barely audible but louder than a scream. “Please say it.”

Jack could barely see now, barely stand, certainly could not fucking think of anything other than this woman so close to him, the feel of his fingertips just above the curve of her bottom, the gentle brushing of her front against his trousers, the way her hair smelled like citrus and sex, the way her lips shone like blood and honey, sweetening his future even as it cleansed his past.

He wanted to say it, needed to say it, fucking yearned to say it. Those three words that he’d used so trivially in the past now felt like the most monumental sounds that he would ever utter, tightening his throat to a thread, compressing his vision to a point, making his head buzz harder than any drug.

The buzzing was loud, too loud to be coming from inside his head. Then Jack felt the vibration inside his jacket and realized it was his damn phone again.

Shit, had Benson been listening in? Was he calling to interrupt them like some chaperone, a fairy godmother? Should Jack even bother answering?

Then he remembered he was on a mission and he'd already screwed up twice today, and with a sigh Jack pulled out the phone and looked at the urgent message along with the missed call notifications.

Hogan had just dropped off the Darkwater surveillance package at the Winchester Hotel. It was still early enough that Kay Steffen might still be here at the cocktail party. If she’d ever arrived here in the first place, of course.

Jack was suddenly on full alert again. He swept his gaze quickly around the room, made it all the way past the buffet table to the bar. Then he froze.

Kay Steffen was now at the bar.

Her hotel room would be empty.

It was time to go.

“We’re leaving,” Jack said curtly, grabbing Jill’s hand and leading her off the dancefloor, doing his best to ignore the way she looked at him, the way her face fell like a disappointed child, that pouty lower lip sticking out again. They made it to the corridor leading to the parking lot exits before something occurred to Jack. “Actually, it’s better if I go alone.” He flicked his gaze towards the bar again. Kay Steffen stood facing the bar alone, nursing a glass of what appeared to be whiskey. “Will you stay here and keep an eye on Kay Steffen? If it looks like she’s leaving, send me a message.”

Jill shrugged dejectedly, then nodded without looking at him. Everything about her was subdued, like that interruption had taken the wind out of her sails, perhaps even sunk their ship before it got a chance to leave the dock.

That’s a good thing, Jack told himself sternly as he resisted the urge to put his arms around Jill and pull her close, kiss her gently on the cheek, trace his fingertips along the curve of her back again. But the timing of the phone’s rude interruption sent a prickly chill along Jack’s spine. Hogan had gotten there early. The calls and messages had come from Paige, not Benson. Maybe Benson was listening, but surely nobody could have synchronized Hogan’s early arrival at just that moment, like it was timed to stop Jack from saying something that now felt psycho-stalker crazy, impossibly intense in a way that seemed to confirm Jack wasn’t thinking straight, was totally unprepared for the emotions evoked from being next to this woman.

“Listen, Jill,” he said softly, clenching his fists by his sides to keep his hands to himself. He glanced past her towards where Bobby and Nina were at the far end of the bar lining up shots for what looked like some of Bobby’s buddies and their dates. “Are you going to be all right alone here? Do I need to worry about you doing something crazy? Something dangerous? I should be back here within an hour, but—”

“Go. I’m all right alone.” Jill glared up at him, then blinked and showed a tight-lipped smile which quickly reverted to a pout so pronounced her lower lip almost turned inside out. She dug into her clutch and produced a set of keys. “Here. Don’t crash my car, please. And if you adjust the seat, please put it back to its original position when you’re done.” She handed Jack her phone. “Put your number in my phone. Don’t worry,” she added with the hint of a teasing smile. “I won’t spam you with cat-videos, so long as you don’t send me any dick-pics.”

“Aw, man,” Jack said with a relieved grin as he felt the tension break. He punched his number into her phone, tapped twice to send himself a message from her phone so he’d have her number. “Dick-pics are the cornerstone of my game!”

“That explains a lot,” Jill retorted, turning towards the main hall. She glanced over her shoulder before walking away, thankfully just before Jack’s gaze landed on her ass. “You going to come back for me or do I need to get a ride back to the hotel later?”

Jack blinked away that inexplicable familiarity that made it seem like they were together, partners making plans, a couple in cahoots. “Of course I’m coming back for you. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.” He smiled, gazing past her towards the main hall where Romeo Carmine was still holding court and Bobby Carmine was still doing shots and Kay Steffen was still alone at the bar finishing her whiskey. For a moment Jack got that strange feeling sort of like déjà vu but not exactly, more like there was something in the air, something about the players in the room being drawn together, events unfolding like an origami shape that wasn’t quite formed yet, like things were still in flux, the wheel still in spin, the cards still being shuffled.

Jack gulped back a sudden urge to pull Jill against his body, keep her close to him. The urge was strong, instinctual, almost irresistible. But Jack was so fucking turned around that he didn’t trust the instinct, couldn’t be sure whether it was the need to protect or to possess.

The indecision froze him long enough that the moment passed and Jill was already walking away, was far down the corridor, into the main hall now, finally disappearing into the crowd of suited men and gowned women. Jack stood there in silence for another long moment as that strange déjà-vu-like sensation rippled through his body again. He rubbed his eyes, shook his head to clear it, started to turn away to head out, then stopped and stared in shock.

He could see Jill now. She’d made her way through the crowd, past the buffet table, towards the crowded bar. She was looking for an open spot at the long wooden bar, and Jack stared in disbelief when Jill chose a spot right next to the solitary black-suited Kay Steffen.

“What are you doing, Jill?” Jack muttered when Jill ordered a drink, then smiled at Kay Steffen and started to make conversation. “What the hell are you doing?”

10

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