Girl Gear 4: Striptease (12 page)

So Jacob looked back at his screen. One by one, Melanie flicked the suckers open, a whole lot slower than Jacob would’ve liked, except he was liking just fine the sight coming slowly into view.

She was wearing a red bustier, for crissakes. The boning hugged her body and pushed up her breasts into temptingly plump mouthfuls. He wanted to slurp her up and suck her hard.

He swallowed, but his mouth was dry, so he reached for the bottle of water on his desk. He drank and nodded at whatever Harry had just said. Something about splitting time over Asa’s assignments. For all Jacob knew, he’d just agreed to cover the other man one-hundred percent.

Right now, he didn’t give a damn about anything but watching Melanie strip. She shrugged out of the blazer and stood there in the stilettos, the fishnets and the bustier. All of it red and all of it about to make him dig his cock out of his pants.

“Look, guys,” Harry said. “I’ve gotta run. I’m doing a first birthday party in River Oaks at noon.” He returned his PDA to his case as he stood.

“Parents doping the kids with sugar before naptime?” Asa asked.

“Something like that.” Turning to Jacob, Harry got to his feet just as the cellphone at his waist rang.
“We’ll catch up on scheduling early next week, right?”

Jacob nodded, but Harry was on his way out the door, leaving Asa to drill Jacob with a piercing gaze.

“What’s up with you, man? For someone working such a choice gig, you look like shit.”

Jacob shrugged, his peripheral vision trying to draw his full gaze back to the computer screen. “Women. Can’t live with ’em. Can’t walk out on the job when the exposure’s going to take me where I want to go.”

“Hey, man. I’m there. Between you and me, I’m looking for a lead in Milwaukee to pan out.”

“You’re still thinking of going back home?”

Asa nodded. “I’ve been wanting to head that way for a while.”

And then, in a case of mounting interruptions, Jacob’s desk phone rang. He glanced at the caller display. “I’d better get this.”

“Yeah, I’m outta here, anyway.” Asa slapped palms to thighs and pushed himself to his feet. “Ball game tonight, right?”

“Yep. I’ll be there,” Jacob rashly promised, reaching for the receiver as the other man waved goodbye on his way out the door.

“Faulkner,” he said for his co-worker’s benefit, before hitting the mute button and cutting off the telemarketing recording so he could get back to watching the show that had become the very center of his world.

Melanie still wore her skirt, but now stood with her legs spread as far apart as the slim black garment would allow. Her hands were at her waist and were moving up the corset-tight bustier. She took her time, as if enjoying the feel of her own hands sliding up her ribs to the swell of her breasts.

She tossed back her head, then looked straight into the camera, wetting first one index finger then the other with her mouth. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she ran both fingertips down the slope of her breasts and beneath the red satin, lifting both of her nipples free and circling slippery fingers around the tight pink buds until they practically sat up and begged.

Jacob slammed the receiver back into the cradle, got up and closed his office door. He leaned back against it and reached into his pants, compressing the base of his cock with the ring he made of his fingers until the urge to come backed off. Eyes closed, he took several slow, concentrated breaths.

And then he returned to his desk and the live action striptease that was so much better than the shadow one on tape. With her stance still wide, her chin up and shoulders back, her nipples puckered there above the lacy edge of the bustier, she moved her hands to her back and the fastenings of her skirt.

Jacob sank down into his chair just in time for the rest of the show.

Palms flat on her upper thighs, she swiveled her hips side to side while sliding the black skirt down her legs. She bent forward in the process, completely exposing her cherry-tipped breasts.

He was pulsing again, ready to blow, and if Melanie’s act went much further, he was going to be finished. Her skirt was now around her ankles, or it was until she stepped out of it and moved closer to the camera.

She slipped her fingers beneath the red garters holding up the stockings, popped both against her thighs before moving her hands into a V around her mound,
which was covered in nothing but a thong of red netting.

No woman in his life had ever aroused him this fast or this completely. She stood there covered from the lower swells of her breasts to the barest patch of her tummy visible between her garter belt and her thong.

But the things he most wanted to see were the very things she was showing him. She was a cherry. A head-to-toe sweet piece that he wanted to consume.

She teased him then, her hands returning to pluck at both nipples, her tongue circling her parted lips as she did. And then she hooked one ankle around the leg of a visitor’s chair and dragged it into the frame.

She didn’t sit immediately, but turned and took hold of the chair’s arms, giving him yet another beautiful shot of her bare ass. And then she crawled up into the seat on her knees, her legs open as she simulated the up-and-down ride she’d taken on his lap that first time.

He leaned back in his chair and ran the flat of his hand down the length of his shaft behind his fly. Their offices were only six miles apart, but it would take him a good twenty minutes to get there, and she could very well be dressed and off to a meeting before he even made it halfway.

Then again, in his condition, driving was not necessarily recommended. But then driving wasn’t even a factor, because he wasn’t moving out of his seat.

Melanie had turned around in the chair, sitting forward on the seat and draping her knees over the arms. He could see everything there between her spread legs, except it was still covered by scraps of red netting and silk and lace.

He would have growled if he could’ve shoved the sound past his heart, which was beating in every
square inch of his chest, but he could barely even breathe.

The fingers that had played with her nipples now dipped beneath the scrap of material covering her mound, and then she pulled the thong away.

When once again she wet her fingers, Jacob grunted and flexed his abs. A crowbar, a jackhammer, the jaws of life. Nothing was going to separate him from his chair or his Powerbook screen. He couldn’t even move to activate the camera’s zoom.

Besides, he wanted to see all of her—not just the action going on there between her legs. Even if it was the sleekest, steamiest, most realistic and raw self-gratification he’d ever witnessed.

She separated the folds of her sex and slid two fingers inside. Not one, but two, while her other hand played back and forth between her nipples and her clit.

He took it all in—her head thrown back, the pinching and tweaking, the roughed-up nipples, the flushed pink clit. He brought his fist down on his desk; goddamn, but he wanted to be the one there getting her off, fingering her to the slick rhythm she’d set.

In and out her fingers went, and she was peachy and juicy and he wanted to eat her up, to lick her clean, to bend her over and bury his face in her incredible sex.

And then she came. Came all over the place. Her hips arched up off the chair, and he could’ve sworn she buried three fingers to the hilt.

Her head went back and she stuffed her fist to her mouth to cut off the cry that rang in his ears and rocked him from his throat to the hard rise of flesh between his legs.

His balls ached and he felt pre-come spill from the
tip of his cock. But he stayed where he was, waiting and watching Melanie’s finish. Watching her collapse exhausted. Watching her breathe deeply and grin. Watching her take up a pair of insulated wire cutters and…snip.

The screen went blank.

He sat there, unmoving, unblinking, unable to fathom anything but what she’d just done. And she’d done it for him. Solely for him. Never in his life had any woman given him so much of herself. And he wondered when the time came how hard it would be to walk away.

Right now, the hardest thing he knew was in his pants and needed to be taken care of. He grabbed up his satchel and, holding it strategically, headed for the men’s room down the hall.

One thing had just been made exceedingly clear. Melanie’s power trip attitude was all about knowing what she wanted, and making sure she got her way.

Once he figured out how to get her back for this, he’d make sure he got his.

M
ELANIE BARELY MANAGED
to get back into her suit, dispose of the fishnets, change her shoes and dump the camera and wiring detritus before she heard chatter and laughter in the hallway outside her office door.

She unlocked and opened it, then settled in behind her desk with the work she’d used as an excuse this morning to beg off from accompanying the others to career day at the high school where Rennie Faulkner counseled.

For the past three hours the executive office wing had been a virtual ghost town, silent and still. But now the girls were back, putting an end to Melanie’s privacy. It seemed she’d timed her show perfectly.

She shoved her gym bag farther into the kneehole beneath her desk, hearing the clatter of cosmetics rattling in her mini train case as the contents shifted. Oh, shoot! Her hair and makeup had to be a mess!

Pulling her glasses off, she grabbed the mirror and the hairbrush she kept in her desk drawer and quickly repaired her chunky textured cut. Her compact was next. Nose and T-zone dusted, she smoothed her smoky-taupe eye shadow until only a bare hint remained, blotted the red gloss from her lips and reapplied her usual nude frost.

She had no idea if Jacob had actually been in his office to see her production live, or if he would watch
the captured stream later. All she knew was that the feed was encrypted and her show would remain private.

She would never have given him that particular performance if she’d thought for a moment she couldn’t trust him with the goods. Still, the safety net of the Mardi Gras-style half mask made her feel a bit better. Now all she had to do was sweat out the wait for his reaction.

As she took a deep breath, it hit her. She was absolutely exhausted. Of course, good sex with a good man did that to a woman. And nobody ever said the man had to be in the same room at the same time.

But being able to breathe again was also a huge relief. How any woman had ever survived the era of confining corsets Melanie had no idea. She wasn’t even certain the bustier hadn’t left her with at least one broken rib!

She’d just returned her glasses to her face and her hairbrush and mirror to her desk drawer when there was a knock at her door. She looked up to find Rennie Faulkner waiting for an invitation to come in.

“Come in.” Her smile welcoming, Melanie motioned the other woman forward. “We are absolutely informal around here. Don’t feel you ever have to knock. Chloe certainly doesn’t.”

Rennie walked in and took a seat in one of the black leather visitors’ chairs. A teasing light glinted in eyes that were a light amber shade, a contrast to Jacob’s, which were the color of rich coffee. “Well, if we all based our behavior on Chloe’s…”

“True,” Melanie acquiesced, laughing. “But you haven’t spent time with her for a while. You have to admit she has settled down this last year.”

Adjusting the folds of her long, flowing skirt, Rennie smiled; the lift of her lips seemed to be driven by a private thought, as much for her own sake as for Melanie’s. “The love of a good man, I wonder?”

“Must be.”
And here we go.
Melanie prayed the inquisition would be swift and painless. “Nothing else has ever seemed to work.”

Sighing, Jacob’s sister crossed one leg over the other and jiggled her foot. “It gives a girl hope, you know? To believe there are others out there like Eric.”

Melanie’s thoughts went immediately to Jacob, as Rennie had no doubt intended with her probing. Yes? No? Did she suspect any of what was going on? Was she here to finish the job of driving Melanie insane?

Or was Rennie simply musing over men, as single women were wont to do?

Surreptitiously, Melanie ran fingertips along her nape, where perspiration had blossomed. “Well, except for one or two perennial holdouts, the ones that have crossed my path this last year have been snagged by my best girlfriends.”

“Then that should give both of us even more hope. Now the odds are in our favor.” Rennie chuckled, then released a long sigh and shook her head. “Notice how I’m already including myself in the group with you and Kinsey and Poe.”

“And why not?” Melanie marginally began to relax. Maybe this wasn’t about Jacob at all. “We’re all in this man-hunting gIRL-gEAR business together.”

“My thoughts exactly. With the lucky partners already attached, when the next man comes along…” Rennie let the thought trail off.

And Melanie picked it up with a laugh. “…the competition pool won’t be quite as crowded.”

The other woman followed suit. “You know, it’s good to be able to laugh about it. Especially since that didn’t exactly come out sounding very charitable.”

“How so?”

“I only meant that good women obviously attract good men, and you girls are the absolute best. I finally did tell Chloe that I’d decided to work with her, but I swear I didn’t base my decision on the hopes of finding a date.” A self-amused expression crossed her face. “Though I have to admit I’ve never met so many amazingly gorgeous guys as I have since being here.”

“It’s like flies to honey. Our own personal matchmaking reality show,” Melanie said, glad to see Rennie was really no different than the rest of the gIRL-gEAR women. “We do have our raging bitch moments, but I think you’ll love it here.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll fit right in,” Rennie stated. “Jacob reminds me every time he sees me that my attitude could use an adjustment.”

“He called you bossy,” Melanie said, before she stopped to think to whom she was speaking. “I mean—”

Rennie waved off the remark. “He tells me the same thing all the time. About myself. Not about you.”

“Oh, I’m sure next time you two talk, he’ll come up with something much worse than ‘bossy’ to say about me.” Again with the runaway mouth. “Anyway—”

“No. Hold on a minute.” Rennie tilted her head to one side, giving Melanie one of those omniscient sisterly smiles. “That’s right. Jacob told me he’d worked with you at Lauren’s wedding.”

Melanie suppressed a snort. “I’m not sure he
worked with me, but I was there. I wanted to make sure he knew what he was doing.”

Rennie tossed back her head and laughed. “Oh my. I would’ve paid to sit in the audience for that. Jacob is the biggest control freak when it comes to his work. I can’t imagine him letting anyone keep an eye on him.”

Melanie started to sputter out a contradiction, then realized she would be giving away too much. Besides, Jacob was so good at being the bum he was that she forgot how much of his attitude was for show.

For the first time since she’d known him, it came to her that she didn’t know why. She wondered if his sister could offer any insight. Then she wondered how best to ask without spilling the details of their involvement.

“He didn’t exactly
let
me. I just didn’t give him any choice. It was Lauren’s wedding, after all.” Melanie thought for a moment, then said, “And, yes. He did seem rather dictatorial about having his way.”

Rennie nodded knowingly. “Without listening to any of your input.”

“He listened. He even told me he considered what I had to offer. But in the end—”

“Let me guess. All Jacob, all the time.”

Melanie shrugged, grabbed for her pencil. “It was, but he ended up being right.”

“That’s the problem.” The other woman sighed, reached up to push back her long fall of chestnut-red hair. “For once I would really love to see him have to admit that he doesn’t have all the answers.”

Hmm. This was getting interesting. “Why would you say that?”

“Oh…” Rennie waved an expressive hand. “He
thinks he can do no wrong. And, unfortunately, he rarely does. I’m not sure that’s good for him.”

“I don’t get it.” Melanie frowned and adjusted her glasses. “Having that sort of success and confidence in his work? How can that be a bad thing?”

“Oh, my fault for not explaining. You’re right. His skill is going to take him far, and his Superman attitude will see him go all the way.”

“Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound?”

“Exactly. Career-wise he’s quite indestructible. But in his personal life? I don’t think he’s quite the man of steel he thinks he is.” She glanced down at her hands while rubbing her thumb across each of her fingernails in turn. “So, yes. I’m a bossy, interfering sister. It’s just that with all that attitude, I’m afraid one day he’ll crack.”

Biting her tongue on the man of steel comment, because this
was
his sister, after all, Melanie gave a small shrug. “He really doesn’t seem the crackable sort.”

“They never do,” Rennie said bluntly. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Jacob’s a danger to himself or to anyone else. And I’m probably just borrowing trouble. But he makes me crazy that way.”

Now, to
that
Melanie could certainly relate. “I don’t know anything about his life outside of work. Not that it matters,” she hurried to add when she suddenly realized how much it bothered her not to have learned more about Jacob. “But it is a little strange. People usually do spill details in the course of normal conversation.”

Rennie shook her head. “Not my brother. Without divulging family secrets that need to remain old and buried, let’s just say he’s let his work eclipse his per
sonal life. Work he can control, down to the very last frame. Editing in what he likes, editing out what he doesn’t.” She sighed. “I’ve quit trying to figure him out.”

Melanie scrambled for something to say, her thoughts racing to incorporate what Rennie had just revealed and what few details about his life Jacob himself had put on the table. “He’s definitely an enigma,” she murmured.

“He is. And he shouldn’t be. Not to me, anyway. Not after the way we grew up parenting one another. Latchkey kids of the first order,” Rennie said, then gave a little disgusted grunt. “Or of the worst order, since more often than not our parents tucked us in via a long-distance phone call.” She sighed and seemed to slump deeper into the chair. “I’m sorry. Here I am dragging up all those family ghosts I swore not to bore you with.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Captivated was a much more apt description than bored. Melanie thought about being tucked in most every night by both her mother and grandmother, almost up until the time she’d left for the University of Texas. She’d taken for granted the very security Jacob had never had.

Yet here she was, with everything in its place and a place for everything. Never wanting to lose the control over her life the two women who’d reared her insisted she’d need to survive in a male-dominated world. Afraid if she didn’t rule her emotions as well as her financial portfolio she’d lose the independence that protected them all.

Instead, she’d tightened up into a protected old prune who felt nothing and tempted no one. At least not until Jacob had come along. Oh, God. No. After
all this time and all these years, had she actually let a man’s influence challenge her way of thinking?

She thought she’d known it all. Now she thought she was going to be sick. “I suppose it’s no better than a platitude to say that at least you had each other.”

“Platitude or not, it’s the truth.” Rennie’s eyes and smile grew misty. And then she laughed. “You wouldn’t believe how one minute we were tattling on one another and the next watching the other’s back.”

Melanie tried to picture Jacob as a seven-year-old with scraped knees and bandaged elbows. “I don’t have siblings, but that doesn’t sound much different than most I did know as a kid.”

“Oh, it’s not. Except that Jacob swore then—we both swore, actually—that neither of us would ever develop such a case of career tunnel vision that we forgot how much more there is to life.”

“The way your parents had,” Melanie guessed.

“Exactly.”

Well, that explained Jacob’s struggle to appear nonchalant about his work. It probably fooled most people but him, poor man. “What did your parents do?”

“They were, they are, historians. Truthfully, I think they’re perfectly suited to one another. They read each other’s mind, finish sentences the other has started. They can sit for hours pouring over ancient documents in any number of languages and never say a word. They just never should’ve had children.”

“As is the case with more than a few couples I’ve known.”

“Oh, it’s definitely not a unique situation. It just feels that way, being the children involved.”

Melanie really wasn’t sure what to say. She only
knew compassion had joined the tumultuous emotions expanding her heart.

She rolled her pencil the length of her legal pad and back. “I guess it would be a challenge to analyze your own situation objectively. But you both seem to have learned how to cope. I’m not sure his way is healthy….”

“How so?”

Way to go, big mouth.
“He’s incredibly talented, gifted even. But he acts like he doesn’t give a damn. It’s got to tear him up inside when you think about it.”

“Or when
you
think about it?”

So much for secret affairs. Melanie glanced down at the yellow pad on her desk. “I guess it’s more obvious than I thought.”

“Not really. I was just guessing.” A tentative smile passed over Rennie’s face. “I’ve seen the way Jacob looks at you, and so I wondered.”

Jacob looked at her? How did Jacob look at her? “Wondered?”

“If anything was going on between the two of you.”

Oh, why not?
Melanie sighed. “Something is, though I’m not sure I can give it a name.”

“Don’t. Not for my sake, anyway.” Rennie’s probing gaze grew concerned. “Hey, I’m glad you got past his attitude and under his skin. Not many women do. He’s a great guy, but he doesn’t let many people see that.”

“Yeah. I’ve noticed.”

“So, ask him about it,” Rennie urged. “I’m curious to know what he’d use as his defense.”

“You mean if he knows himself as well as you do?”

Rennie shook her head. “He knows. Deep down, where guys don’t like to hang out. I just wonder if you’re the woman who can get him to spend time there, because I sure can’t. He’s basically told me to mind my own business.”