Wild Fling or a Wedding Ring? (8 page)

“Please…touch me.”

“Like this, Cali?”

And then the distance between them was gone as all that warmth was coupled with solid muscle and man. His mouth closed over the base of her neck and his hands snaked around her belly, slipping beneath the hem of her tee-shirt to cup the swells of her tender breasts.

An answering moan was all she could manage as the fingers of one of his hands curled into the top of her bra. He caught her beaded nipple between his knuckles and squeezed gently.

“Or like this?” he asked, scraping his teeth over the muscle at her shoulder.

Her knees buckled under the sensual assault. Jake’s gruff, sexy laughter rasped against her spine as he held her to him.

“Too much, sweetheart?” he asked with mock concern as he teased a hot palm across the skin of her belly. “Should I stop?”

“Don’t.” Reaching over her head, she sifted her fingers into
the dark silk of his hair, holding him close to her. “Don’t stop. I can’t stop—”

The shrill ring of her phone sounded from the counter in front of her, shocking her frayed nerves.

“No,” she groaned. Her body, enslaved by a touch she’d been too long denied, vibrated with need.

She’d stilled in Jake’s arms, but his sensual assault continued. His hands ran from her breasts to her thighs, pressing her into the hold of his hard body. “Who is it?” he murmured at her ear.

A glance at the display showed the name and number. “IT guy working this weekend… He’s getting back to me on overtime projections… It’s going to be quick…but I—I….” Jake sucked the fleshy lobe of her ear into his mouth. “I—mmmm….”

His hands skimmed up her body, following the line of her raised arms until he had both her hands held in his. Pressing one into the counter in front of her, he slid his thick fingers between hers, holding her in place.

The other hand he guided to wrap across her waist, settling in a loose hold at her hip. “Don’t take it.” Gentle suction pulled at the nape of her neck followed by the light rasp of teeth.

She’d been waiting on the information. It wasn’t a huge deal, but this employee was giving up part of his weekend because of her mandate. He wouldn’t leave until she’d spoken to him. Disappointment washed through her, twisting her stomach with frustration so intense it hurt. Ignoring the call wasn’t an option. But after—

Freeing the hand at her hip, she grasped for the phone and connected. Put it to her ear. “Calista McGovern.”

On the other end of the line the IT guy began rambling about numbers and his projections. Cali closed her eyes and
focused on the metallic voice as Jake’s palm slid hot across her belly. His body, broad and powerful, against her back.

“Thank you. That’s what I was looking for.” Drawing on every brain cell she could muster, she forced the words from her lips in what she prayed was coherent order. This call couldn’t end fast enough. “Send me the file and we’ll be set.”

Hot breath, and the sense of a smile behind it, whispered at her other ear. “You sound breathless, Cali… Concentrate for me.”

Jake’s fingers splayed wide, tugging her closer into him. His breath was moist and warm, loosing undeniable chemical reactions to snake through her system, justifications to lick at all the tender, needy places, driving her blind with desire.

The call would only take a minute. His touch felt so good. She could handle it.

“God, you’re making me hot. You need to end this call, because I can’t not touch you,” he growled. “Can you feel me? Feel what you do to me?”

Yes. She could feel him—his steely length was pressing against her.

A single nod.

Answered with a cool lick at the shell of her ear, turning her body to liquid fire.

More details about some unexpected delays in her right ear.
Please!

“Does that make you hot—to know what you do to me?” The question, punctuated by a nip at her left ear, made her body seize. “Does it make you wet?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she answered both men, her need ratcheting higher by the second. This was insanity, and yet she couldn’t summon the strength to pull away.

Jake slipped his fingers free of the hand he’d pinned to the counter. Then he began to run both his palms over her breasts
in slow, tight circles that had her pushing into his hands, her head dropping back against his shoulder and her eyes drifting closed.

“I don’t know if you’re talking to me or your IT guy. I’m going to have to find out for myself.”

Her eyes flew open as his hand brushed over the fly of her jeans, opening the snap and the zipper. He wouldn’t…. But then his knee nudged between her thighs to widen her stance as his fingers skimmed at the sensitive skin below her navel.

And she knew—

He dipped into her panties as the IT guy droned on about the working conditions at his last job. Wait—she hadn’t followed the transition of the conversation. What else had she missed?

Her body tensed, but not from pleasure. She’d gotten in so far over her head the room spun. This was a disaster!

Except that thick fingers were slipping against her aching wetness, parting and pushing into her. Her mouth opened in a silent cry as her body betrayed her, seizing in an attempt to draw him deeper. Jake was at her ear again, hot and urgent.

“Time to hang up, Cali. You’ll call him back.”

He moved in and out of her, so good, so deep.

“Cali?” He stilled.

Only her body didn’t care that the thrust and retreat had ceased. The penetration had pushed her past the edge of control. She was falling.

“Hang up, sweetheart.”

And then the phone was out of her hand, abruptly disconnected. She cried out her completion in gasping breaths, with Jake’s midnight voice at her ear, talking her through the crashing waves of an orgasm so strong it had battered her senses and convictions into the dust to get free.

“Cali?” Jake turned her around, tucking her into the hold of his arms. She peered up at him as the cool, wet path of shame streaked down her cheek.

Her throat was too tight to speak so she shook her head.

“Don’t look like that.” He caught one guilty tear with his thumb, tried to brush it away. “Sweetheart, it’s not—”

“Don’t. Please, just don’t say anything.”

How could she have been so stupid? Why? She’d all but come into the ear of some poor IT guy, putting in overtime this weekend just to provide her with the information she’d requested! Heaven help her, she was going to have to call him back with some fabricated excuse.

“Come on, Cali, it was just some fun.”

“It was my
job
!” she lashed back. “Don’t you understand? I’m not like you, Jake. I haven’t gotten to where I want to go yet. I haven’t reached my goal. I’m still working for it, and stunts like the one we just pulled won’t get me there.”

He stood back, his brow furrowed in obvious frustration. “That guy isn’t going to have a clue what happened here. I disconnected the call before the fireworks started.”

“It doesn’t matter—this isn’t what professionals trying to get to London do!”

Closing his eyes for patience, he muttered a curse.

“Just go. I need—” She needed to burst into tears, and she needed to do it alone.

W
ITHIN
the small sixth-floor office she’d been assigned Cali hung up the phone, disconnecting from the latest status report with Amanda. She leaned back in her chair and spun toward her window, stretching her neck as she observed the late morning activity on the dappled dark waters of the Chicago River below.

Amanda had hinted again about London during their call, causing Cali’s pulse to bump at the mention, then transitioned smoothly into her favorite subject. Jake.
Jackson
.

When had Cali last seen him? Really? That long ago? How was he wearing his hair? Wasn’t he handsome? Did Cali think he was as funny as Amanda thought he was?

She’d talked to her boss about Jackson as though he didn’t exist beyond the context of his relationship with Amanda, but Jake had become the guilty secret that loomed like swollen thunderclouds above her career, ready to burst at any moment. On and on it went, each probe ratcheting the tension between her shoulderblades higher, until finally a bead of sweat had rolled from her temple and dropped into a single small splatter on the top page of her budget report and Cali had abruptly redirected the conversation to work.

It was too much. Answering politely about a man who made her feel anything but. Feigning indifference over the
days that had passed since she’d told him to go. Pretending that guilt and loneliness weren’t eating her alive. Jake wasn’t to blame for what had happened between them, and, as mad as she’d been, she’d known that all along. The only thing she could blame him for was having the ability to make her weak. Make her want. Make her crazy.

The phone buzzed, jarring Cali back to the present. Leaning over the desk, she connected the line.

“Yes?”

“Pack it in, Cali,” came the jubilant voice of Trish, her closest co-worker. “It’s Friday, it’s noon, and you know I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The Chicago office had the afternoon off, and Trish had been planning a department-wide trip to the beach that afternoon.

Cali hesitated, trying to decide if there was any reason she
shouldn’t
take advantage of this beautiful day. The sun was shining; the temperature was a perfect seventy-eight. Taking a quick survey of her desk and what awaited her attention, she saw there really wasn’t anything she couldn’t take home with her for the weekend. Why not? She needed the break, and spending time with Trish might actually keep her from obsessing about a man she shouldn’t want.

“I’ll be right down.”

When Cali arrived in the lobby, she stopped short. Trish, sporting a beach bag, flip-flops, and a tee-shirt that hung off one shoulder, leaned against the front desk, happily chatting up the guard and two guys in suits Cali vaguely recognized from Accounting.

The look was quite a contrast to the soft pink pencil skirt, neatly tailored linen blouse and three-inch heels completing Cali’s ensemble.

Trish dismissed the men while surveying Cali’s dress. “Have you got your suit on under there?”

She nodded as a flush of heat crept up her neck at the thought of the bikini she’d purchased years ago but never actually worn. This morning, while riffling through her drawer looking for the more conservative tankini she normally wore, she’d realized it had somehow been misplaced in the move. Running late, she’d grabbed the tiny electric blue number with the tags still attached, and a long cover-up to go with it. Unlike Trish, however, Cali hadn’t been willing to walk through the lobby in her beach garb and opted to wear work clothes—at least until they got to the cab.

“Perfect. The guys from team six already went ahead to get set up. We’ll grab a cab and you can change on the way.”

Cali shifted on her feet and glanced back at the elevators, feeling the guilty pull of her project tugging her back.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Trish wagged a finger her way. “Amanda said to tell you to stop working for a few hours and to enjoy the sun. So don’t make me call her back with the report that you can’t follow orders.”

“All right, all right,” she conceded. “Let’s get over there.”

By the time the cab pulled to a stop at Oak Street Beach Cali had freed herself from her work clothes in an ungainly display of jutting elbows and pulled hair, and handed them over. At Trish’s teasing whistle she’d gratefully donned the cover-up, ready to enjoy an afternoon in the sun.

They walked down the concrete path and onto the wide stretch of flat, light sand beach toward an area spread with blankets, a few coolers, and a beach volleyball net. Cali recognized a number of faces from the office, and waved as one after another stopped to greet her or offer a welcoming smile. Picking a nice spot midway to the water, they spread a blanket, using their shoes to secure the corners in the balmy breeze.

The sun warm on her skin, Cali sat beside the cooler as
Trish dug out sandwiches, bottled water, and a few tubs of cold deli salads. Matt Novack jogged over and edged a seat beside Trish, joking good-naturedly about some mutual acquaintance he’d hoped to get to know better.

Tucking into the meal, they discussed the various “fests”, concerts and street fairs abundant throughout the Chicago summer: Taste of Chicago, Venetian Night and Lalapalooza. There were also art fairs, garden walks, air shows, and a veritable plethora of other appealing activities to fill all the free time Cali didn’t have.

Still, it was exciting to hear about the masses filling Grant Park, to imagine herself into a life that allowed for such good times. And then, glancing around—at her co-workers, at the gorgeous lakefront with Navy Pier in the distance, the Drake Hotel, and John Hancock building piercing the clear sky above—she realized that somehow this fantasy life was actually hers. For now, anyway.

Cali raised a bottle of water to her lips and took a long draw as a shadow fell over their group, and a pair of legs, tanned, muscular, and lightly dusted with dark masculine hair, stepped up to them.

“Hey, Cali,” came the rumbling dark voice from above, setting off a tingly reaction across her skin and through her center. “Was hoping I’d catch you out here.”

She froze, knowing instantly who it was. She’d recognize his voice anywhere, and that unique blend of excitement mingling with anxiety only surfaced when one man was in her proximity. Jake.

Her breath sucked in—only she hadn’t swallowed the water first, and then she was coughing, sputtering, and losing any shred of cool she might have hoped to retain in front of the last man she’d expected to meet there.

Instantly he was at her side, gently patting her back with
the heel of his palm as he retrieved the water bottle that had spilled all over her lap. “Easy, Cali. You okay?”

Embarrassed, she nodded, looking him over. He was dressed for the beach in a white short-sleeved shirt open to the waist and a pair of long, narrow orange trunks that hugged his muscular thighs as he crouched beside her. “What are you doing here?”

“My afternoon op got cancelled, and Amanda mentioned you were heading down here with a few co-workers. She suggested I crash.”

Matt leaned forward to extend a hand, grin wide. “Right on, man. Glad to have you.”

Trish chirped in, “Definitely. Have a seat.”

They might be glad, but Cali wasn’t sure she could say the same. Being confronted with Jake after the way she’d treated him the last time they were together…she didn’t even know how she felt. Guilty, embarrassed, anxious, excited—there were too many emotions winding together to form a solid knot in her stomach to identify one over another.

Introductions were exchanged, and then Cali noticed the silence stretching a second too long. She dared a glance at Jake’s face.

Mouth tight, brow drawing down, he raked his darkening gaze over her from head to toe and back again. Following his gaze down to her body, she realized the damage one bottle of spilled water could do. Her cover-up was completely saturated, clinging to her like a transparent second skin and advertising Band-Aid sized panels of electric blue, barely covering enough to keep her legal.

Matt gaped from behind Jake, his mouth hanging open, eyes fixed in blatant appreciation. “Damn, Cali. And I didn’t get you anything.”

How embarrassing. Her arms crossed over her chest as Trish snickered beside her. “Matt, you’re an ass.”

But it was Jake’s reaction that had her heart stalling in her chest. Dark hunger and heat seared over her skin as he stripped off his shirt and wordlessly handed it over to her.

Self-consciously she tugged off the wet cover-up, pulling it free in time to catch his glowering scan of the beach beyond them.

She slipped her arms into one sleeve and then the other, trying not to think about the fact that Jake was now shirtless. About all that bronzed, sculpted torso, the six-pack of hard abdominal muscles or the flex of his bare back. About what the smell of him on the fabric she was wrapping around herself was doing to her body.

She swallowed.

Incredibly, spectacularly shirtless
.

Matt chimed in, enjoying the spectacle far too much. “Yep, that shirt’s probably a good idea, since you’re looking so…chilly.”

Cali groaned, blushing bright. “Matt!”

Jake’s jaw flexed as he brushed her arms aside and jerked the lapels closed. Grim-faced, he worked the buttons between her breasts, down her belly, to where the last button of the too-large shirt hung between the tops of her thighs. He slowed as his knuckles brushed against the sensitive skin. Forcing her breath to steady, Cali took his hands in hers, pulling them free. If he touched her one more time, with that hot possessive fire blazing in his eyes, it wouldn’t matter that they were sitting inches from her co-workers in broad daylight. One more touch and she’d go up in flames.

Their gazes held for an instant before he broke away, jumped to his feet and gruffly announced he was going for a swim. Matt jumped up, laughing, to join him. Nodding toward the water, he clapped Jake’s shoulder. “Definitely time to cool off. Let’s go, Tyler.”

Some forty minutes later Matt meandered off to hit on some girl wandering along the bike path, and Trish closed her eyes, popping a pair of headphones into her ears. Waves lapped gently against the packed sand, a warm breeze blew in a quiet rush past her ears, and children squealed, racing against the advance and retreat of the cool waters creeping over the beach.

She could get used to this life. Easily.

Jake leaned back beside her, his triceps flexing as he shifted his weight to stretch out his long legs. A smattering of sand clung to the skin around his toes and ankles, drops of water beaded in the dark hair of his legs, while his still-damp suit hugged the muscles of his thighs and the contours of his groin.

She could definitely get used to this life. Much too easily.

She swallowed, forcing her gaze to the distant horizon. There was so much she could make her own here, without risk to her career. It was only a matter of remembering the one line not to cross.

The
Jackson
line. The line where his casual arm around her shoulder reverted to his hands, demanding and skilled, covering every inch of her body.

There were so many reasons not to want him—Amanda, her career, her heart—it should have been easy. And yet she’d begun to question them all. Amanda in particular. Obviously there was an attachment there—one that ran deep. But Cali had begun to question the number of times her boss had facilitated she and Jake meeting. Even today she’d told him where to find her. Ensured Trish would let her know she expected Cali to take the break with everyone else. Or maybe that was just some selfish, destructive part of her, searching for a convenient excuse to justify the reactions she couldn’t seem to control.

Jake caught her attention with a jut of his chin toward the cityscape behind them. “How about a coffee and walk?”

Caffeine was always good, and what had happened
between them the week before needed to be addressed. “Sounds good.”

Smoothly, he rolled to his feet and stood, offering a hand to pull her up.

When they’d gotten a fair distance from the MetroTrek crowd, Cali brushed at the sand from her hips and took a steadying breath. “I should have called you. What I said—how I acted—it wasn’t fair.”

Jake cocked his jaw to the side. “I knew how you felt about work and sex. It was a mistake…but only because of the call.”

Her heart tripped as she thought about all the reasons she’d been telling herself the entire incident was a mistake. She could have voiced them, but instead let the subject lie.

“So, how’s the job going these days?” Jake asked as they headed up to the path.

Cali considered. “Really well, but there are more issues to contend with than we initially anticipated. And I think someone seriously undershot the scheduling projection.”

“Yeah? That’s got to be frustrating.” The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he scanned the lakefront ahead of them. “I’m pretty sure there’s a coffee stand right up here. So, will you be able to make it work?”

She glanced at him, shielding her eyes from the sun as an unpleasant thought took root in her mind.

“What?” he asked, that gorgeous mouth pulling up to the side.

Yeah, what? She was paranoid. Only maybe there was another reason Amanda kept throwing them together.

“Nothing…it’s just— Well, you’re always so interested in my work.” It wasn’t that he seemed overly curious, only she knew Amanda wasn’t above using friends and subordinates to check up on each other.

She couldn’t believe that. But still she ran a quick mental tally of every work-related comment she could summon to
memory. Nothing that would make her look weak. Nothing unprofessional. Almost nothing. She had to take on faith that the incident in the bar hadn’t been recounted.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she added hastily, feeling like a jerk for questioning what was probably nothing more than polite conversation. Unless… “And of course I can completely handle the job. It’ll require some juggling, but that’s what I do.”

Jake stopped walking and, catching her hand, turned her to face him.

“Hey.” His blue eyes, serious and more intensely beautiful than the bright sky behind him, met hers. “No matter what you say, you know I wouldn’t mention it to Amanda, right? She’s a friend, but whatever happens or is said between you and me is just that. Between you and me.”