The Back-Up Plan (7 page)

“What?”

He crossed the room to her, walking around her desk. She pushed her chair back and swiveled to face him.

“What are you wearing?”

She looked down, perplexed. “A skirt?”

He rubbed his forehead as too many sleepless nights caught up with him all at once. She was driving him crazy these days. Wearing her hair down, smiling, singing, laughing at all his dirty jokes. Lately he’d gotten in the habit of calling her every night before he went to bed just because he wanted to hear her voice one more time before he closed his eyes.

Then sleep would elude him as he saw her face and heard her chastising him for drinking too much or not eating a healthy dinner or chasing the wrong kind of women. God. All she had to do was take
that tone
with him and his cock was rock hard for an hour afterwards. He’d jacked off so many times in the past few weeks he was getting callouses on his palm.

He gritted his teeth, then forced himself to say, “
Under
the skirt?”

She narrowed her eyes in her typical
grow up
way and his dick twitched. Shit.
Here we go again.

“Seriously? You came in here to ask me that? Go home, J. Or better yet, call Monica. For some insane reason, she’s really into you. Maybe she can take your mind off this unhealthy obsession you have with my stockings.”

“So you are wearing stockings.”

“That’s all you heard me say, isn’t it?”

He shrugged, perfectly aware he was standing over her, looking and acting like king of the Neanderthals. He didn’t care. She was poking the bear. Every freaking day.

Then he caught a whiff of flowers. “When did you start wearing perfume?”

She shook her head, apparently unbothered by his odd change of subject. “When I was fifteen. Are you feeling okay? You’ve been walking around here for weeks like a tiger with a thorn in his paw. What’s going on?”

He wished to God he knew. Because maybe if he did, he wouldn’t do what he was about to do next. Unfortunately, intelligent Jason had abandoned ship when Kristen walked into work this morning in her short skirt and stockings. The only person still in residence was the idiot.

He bent down, caging Kristen in her chair, and kissed her. Put his lips against hers and pressed close.

She struggled for only a minute. He barely registered her hands on his shoulders, shoving against him. Then her fingers stopped pushing and started gripping.

Jason released his white-knuckle clench on the arms of her chair once he realized she was kissing him back. Their lips parted at the same time, their tongues meeting halfway as he grasped her face in his palms, stroking her soft skin.

She made a quiet whimper when he knelt between her legs, but she didn’t hesitate to part her thighs, to make room for him between. Neither of them came up for air, as if breaking the union of their lips would somehow crush the magic. Instead, they dove headfirst into the kiss, allowing it to go on and on.

Kristen’s hands loosened from his shirt, moving along his shoulders, then back to his tie. She released the knot and tugged the silk from the collar. When she started to tackle the buttons of his shirt, Jason gave up whatever semblance of control had remained.

He lowered his hands to her legs, caressing her thighs before gathering enough courage to dive beneath her skirt. His fingers had only traveled a few inches before he found the clasps of her garter.

Kristen gasped, a strong burst of air that almost pushed their lips apart. They recovered quickly, however, and resumed kissing, tasting. Jason relished every soft cry, every delicate sound of pure bliss she made.

He’d kissed hundreds of women in his life, but none of them compared to this. They didn’t even come close.

Jason deepened the kiss when his fingers found the bare skin above her stockings. Kristen spread her legs wider and he moved closer, but her tugging his shirt open distracted him. When had she unfastened the buttons? She stroked his chest, toyed with the light smattering of hair there, pressed her thumbs against his small brown nipples. There wasn’t an ounce of shyness in her exploration. Nothing, but sure, assertive hands. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Kristen was a powerhouse in the courtroom, confident, strong. It was apparent those attributes carried over to the physical realm as well.

His erection thickened even more, causing an almost lightheaded effect. The edges of his vision went fuzzy. What the hell was he doing? This was Kris.

His Kris.

He drew his thumbs along the inside of her thighs, inching them closer to the heat he could feel between her legs. He was a breath away from touching the fire, from shoving aside the material of her panties and jumping straight into those flames, when Kristen pushed away.

Her sudden movement caught him unaware. She rolled her chair back until she slammed against the wall behind her, the loud crash jerking him to his senses. The distance that separated them couldn’t have been more than a few feet, but it felt like miles. Both of them were gasping. Her face was flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lips red and slightly puffy from his rough kisses. She reached up to touch them.

The silence that surrounded them was deafening as he sought for some way to clean up the mess he’d just made.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t convince himself what they’d done was wrong. In fact, he wanted to drag her back, pull her to the floor and finish what they’d started. All night long.

Kristen spoke before he could enact that plan. “That didn’t happen.”

He frowned. “It sure as fuck did.”

She shook her head, tugging her skirt down as far as the material would allow. It didn’t help. He knew what was underneath and he wanted it more than he wanted food or water or air.

“Jason. We have to be practical about this. Both of us are struggling with the big four-oh. It’s got us doing things that are out of character. But this too shall pass. We have to use our brains here—think before we act. We’re partners in this business. We can’t fuck that up with meaningless sex.”

Her adjective was wrong. Sex with her would mean the world to him. But knowing she didn’t feel the same way gave him pause. “Kris, listen—”

“No. I need you to listen to me and really hear the words I’m saying. This can’t happen. I won’t let it. You remember the list I gave you, describing your ideal woman?”

He nodded.

“I’m not her. Think about that and you’ll realize I’m right.”

“If this has to do with my past—” He stopped talking when she laughed.

“Yeah. You know what? It does. Let’s face it. I know too much about you.”

He released a frustrated sigh, then forced himself to stand. There
was
a very long history between them and he wanted to argue, but it was hard to defend himself when he had nearly two decades of bad behavior working against him.

“So you don’t believe people can change?”

“Of course I do, but not overnight. Just last October, you were bragging about the amazing sex you’d had with a gymnast. Telling me how limber she was. Then by the next month, you moved on to having some quickie in the ER with the physician’s assistant while getting a tetanus shot after falling and cutting your hand in the parking lot. Alcohol was involved as I recall.”

“It was a bachelor party. And you make it sound like I’m a drunk and a womanizer, for God’s sake. That was just two nights in six months. You’re not mentioning the other hundred and seventy-eight nights when I was home. Alone.”

“That was just the
last
six months, though I’ll give you credit. You are slowing down in your old age.”

He rolled his eyes at her joke. “Careful with that, sunshine. You’re only two months behind me on the birthday wagon.”

She stood up and walked toward him. He was assaulted by the scent of her perfume once more. Then, she picked up a cube of Post-it Notes, grinning as she waved it under his nose. “Of course, there’s still the issue of this.”

“You’re rejecting me because of the Post-it Notes. Jesus Christ, Kris. Hello ancient history. That was four years ago. I was a different man back then. And you lost the right to throw that in my face because you already paid me back for that mistake.”

She laughed, the sound so infectious he couldn’t help but join her. “Oh, Jason. I’m not complaining about any of this. It’s all just a part of who you are. Hell, I’ve spent the last decade living vicariously through you and your crazy antics. I know it seems like they make me nuts and irritate me, but the truth is you always make me laugh.”

It was the closest Kristen had ever come to admitting she actually liked him. The compliment left him feeling warm, happy.

“But, just to be clear, J, I don’t think that sticky note prank was in exchange for my silence on the subject. I never intend to let you live
that
down.”

He grinned ruefully. He’d made an impulsive, stupid purchase from the hot office supply lady while flirting with her. He thought he’d bought thirty packs of Post-it Notes, when he’d actually ordered thirty cases. Kristen walked into his office to ream him out for the mistake and caught him
in flagrante
with that same woman on his desk.

As revenge, she’d completely covered his Audi using an entire case of the damn pink sticky notes. As far as pranks went, he had to hand it to her. That one had been pretty funny. And annoying. It had taken him over an hour to clean his car off so he could drive home.

She lifted one shoulder, giving him a regretful look. “Are you mad at me for stopping?”

He shook his head. “Are you pissed at me for starting?”

Kristen smiled sweetly. “Not at all.” She reached up and cupped his face gently, but the gesture killed him because he knew what was coming. “We’ve spent years building this firm together. Blood, sweat, tears. You name it, we’ve invested it. Yes, I believe you when you say you want to settle down, that you want a committed relationship. You deserve that. But it can’t be with me. The risk is just too great. You understand that, right?”

He wanted to shake off her caring touch, to rail at the gods, to tear this office apart with his bare hands.

He did none of that.

Instead, he nodded.

“Good. I think I’m calling it a night and heading home.”

She started to step away from him, but he caught her hand and held fast despite the scowl in her expression. “Do me a favor?”

“Sure,” she offered.

“Don’t wear the stockings again.”

She held his gaze and he watched a myriad of emotions fill her pretty blue eyes. Confusion, fear, desire. Then he saw just a hint of a dare. She was going to challenge him, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

He didn’t bother to hide his grin. While her words were sensible, it appeared that practical Kristen had fled with intelligent Jason. And she’d given herself away. This game was far from over.

She looked uneasy in the face of his far-too-pleased smile. “Fine,” she said at last. “No problem. You’ll never see them again.”

He released her and let her leave. When he heard the door to the office close, he sank down into her chair and slowly rebuttoned his shirt. It was time to figure out his next move because there was no way in hell he was going to be her back-up plan anymore. Jason fully intended to make sure he wasn’t her last resort. He was about to move up to the number-one position.

Kristen knocked on the door, relieved when Zoey answered. “Saw the light on. It’s not too late for a visit, is it?”

Zoey motioned for her to come in. “It’s eight o’clock, for God’s sake.”

“I know, but it’s chemo week. That makes you sleepy.”

“I napped for a couple hours this afternoon. Now I’m wired. Wide awake. Robbie’s working late at the recording studio, so I’m sitting here watching
Hoarders
on TV. Which is stupid as hell because it’s triggering my claustrophobia. I was just trying to take some deep breaths during the commercial break. So really you’re saving me from myself.”

Kristen laughed. “I don’t know what it is with you and that show.”

“Me either, but I can’t make myself look away. What’s up? Are you just getting home from work?”

Kristen nodded, following Zoey into the living room, the smell of lilacs filling the air. “Flowers?”

“Candle,” Zoey said, pointing to the flame flickering in the corner. Her friend was a candle addict, but Kristen liked the effect. The fresh scent reminded her of springtime in her grandmother’s garden. It was a comforting memory.

They both sat on the couch as Zoey tugged a fleece blanket over her bare feet. She wasn’t wearing her wig and the sight of her bald head made Kristen feel guilty. She’d come here seeking reassurance over something silly while Zoey’s problems—cancer and chemo—were real and frightening.

“I shouldn’t be bothering you.”

Zoey leaned forward and grasped her hand. “I’m glad you’re here. Everyone’s been tiptoeing around me ever since I got sick. I’m bored with my own drama and hoping you’ve got something juicy going on to entertain me.”

Kristen laughed. Zoey was just the person she needed. She’d known Kristen the longest, so Zoey would most likely understand why she was freaking out so much.