Page 23 of 1st Shock
And it's not just my body that misses him.
Imiss him. All of me.
Don't go there.
One of the things that's gotten me this far in life is selective risky behavior. It sounds counterproductive, and with my need for order and rules, it sometimes is. What I've found through the years is there are calculated risks worth taking, and those are what put me ahead of the class more times than not. I like to blame it on Meg's influence–she runs on emotion and that's always trouble. Truth is, I could stand to get out of my brain and trust my emotions more.
JJ is one big, fat, calculated risk. “How did the meeting go?”
His smile is tired. He knows what I’m referring to. “We’re making progress.”
The last bit of my hope dies.
My brain and heart feel torn to pieces, probably because there is no happy ending for us.
Unfortunately, that doesn't stop me from opening the door and letting him in.
I sense the conqueror in him doing a fist pump, the faintest hint of smugness in his smile.
"Don't get cocky. I have a lot of work to do tonight and, you're right, I haven't eaten. Pull out plates while I get dressed and pour me a glass of wine. My laptop is on the dining room table. The video is on there."
I plan to head to the bedroom to get dressed, but before I get two steps from the counter, he grabs my arm and draws me close. His arms go around me, and he pulls me into a tight hug.
It's suffocating and annoying, and oddly reassuring at the same time. I'm tired, freaked out a killer strolled into our offices in the middle of the day, and racking my brain to figure out how he knows we're investigating him. All that stops at the feel of JJ's arms around me.
His breath is warm on the top my head. "God, I'm glad you're okay."
My arms encircle his waist of their own accord to reassure him, my body melting into his bigger one. His expensive cologne is wearing off, but I can still find hints of sandalwood, mint, and cedar.
For me, that adds up to power and safety. Two of my favorite aphrodisiacs. I could stay like this in his arms, listening to his strong, solid heartbeat forever.
Nope.
Forever is not in the cards. I push away, and he reluctantly lets me go. "I've got to get dressed."
His hands hold onto mine as I try to make my escape. One finger slides over my pink topaz ring, wiggling it. "Not on my account."
There's something in his eyes, and it flips the switch. Justboom. Heat roars through me, and in less than a heartbeat, I’m in his arms again, his hands undoing the belt around my waist and opening the robe. Our mouths find each other, tongues dancing. My fingers grip the lapels of his shirt and the next thing I know, I hear buttons smacking into the counter, onto the tile floor.Pop, pop, pop.I free his muscled chest and press myself against that steady heartbeat once more.
My robe disappears, his hands tracing every inch of my skin. He lifts me onto the countertop, the marble under my butt cold and unforgiving. This shocks me into reality, a sudden image of his wife's face burning in my brain.
"Stop." It takes all my willpower, but I push him away once more. Not easy to do since he outweighs me by a good eighty pounds. "We can't do this."
"Dammit." Soft, under his breath. He puts his hands in the air and steps back, one, two, three, as if he needs as much space as possible to keep himself from touching me. He only stops when he comes into contact with the fridge. Surprisingly, he doesn't argue. "I know. I'm sorry."
His face, his tone, say he's not sorry at all. He knows I jumped him, not the other way around. I hop off the counter, cheeks burning, and snatch my robe from the floor. "You better leave."
His voice comes out low, controlled. "If I promise not to touch you, can I stay?"
Promises, promises. I've made too many to myself that I've gone back on because of him.
I hate that my voice breaks when I answer. "I'm not kicking you out to...punish you." It's a lie, but the next thing isn't. "I just can't promise I won't touch you "—attack you—"if you stay."
A damning hint of a smile tickles his lips. "I could handcuff you to the chair."
Laughter bursts from my mouth. In this horrible situation, he reaches for humor.
And it works.
