“Morning,” she said, her tone determinedly cheerful.
“Hi.” He studied her as if unsure how to proceed. Maybe he wanted to pretend the whole sex thing hadn’t happened, as well. That would make their encounters considerably easier. “You want to join me for a swim?”
“No.” Getting almost naked with Jake wasn’t a good idea, at least not until she had her inconvenient hormones back under some semblance of control. “I came in to ask if you were coming to Mitch’s leaving do tonight. I’ve been delegated to find out if we’re to be honored by your presence.”
“I may drop in. I take it you’re going.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Okay, if you don’t want that swim, I’m going to shower.”
Why was he telling her this? Was he trying to send her blood pressure sky-high from imagining him naked in the shower, soaping himself…? She blinked as she realized Jake was staring at her, apparently waiting for her to move; she stood in the doorway, blocking his exit.
“Right, I’ll be off then.” She meant to move, really she did, but for some reason she couldn’t force her limbs into motion.
Jake regarded her, his expression speculative. For a long moment, they stared at each other, and then he smiled a sinfully sexy smile and with his eyes still focused on hers, slowly peeled the black vest from his body.
She gaped. She couldn’t help herself—he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Yesterday, she’d been too caught up in the moment and the shock to notice much. Today, nothing stopped her from drinking her fill of the view. He was sleek and golden with a faint sheen of sweat, the skin smooth over the swell of his broad, muscular chest, then lightly furred over the ridges of his lean, almost concave belly, the dark hair forming an arrow that disappeared into the low-slung black trousers. Her mouth went dry. She tried to remember her mantra. What was it again? Sex with Jake is not an option. Why was that exactly? She couldn’t remember. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. Wow.
Time to go.
She whirled away but was sure she heard his soft laughter following her down the corridor.
…
Kim pushed her way into the pub and peered around the dimly lit room. Numerous groups were scattered about, some in suits, obviously after-work drinkers, but she spotted her coworkers quickly. Jessica wasn’t there—she was working tonight—but fifteen or so guys gathered at the bar.
No Jake yet, and some of the tension oozed from her.
She headed over, and they turned to face her as one, jaws dropping open in unison. She allowed her jacket to swing open and ran a hand through her tousled hair as she came to a halt in front of them.
After glancing around the group, her gaze settled on Steve. She tried for a seductive smile in his direction—not because she wanted to tempt him but because she’d been practicing—and couldn’t help but feel a vaguely malicious wave of satisfaction when he groaned.
“This isn’t fair,” he muttered.
Yay! She only just refrained from punching the air.
She might have gone a little over the top with the makeover. Jess had accompanied her to assist, and it was probably her urging that had done the damage. Left to herself, Kim wasn’t sure she’d have ended up quite this…kick-ass?
Leather. Tight black leather pants. Though if she really wanted to kick ass, she’d pick something not quite as tight. And she definitely wouldn’t be running down any bad guys tonight. Not in her four-inch stilettos. She’d be lucky to stay on her feet.
She’d drawn the line at a leather corset—kick-ass was one thing, looking like a dominatrix out of a bondage cellar was another.
Kim was sure Jake wasn’t into being dominated. If she wanted to put him off—show him she wasn’t his kind of girl—then the leather corset might work if all else failed. She reckoned he was more the domineering type but she so didn’t want to go there. Jake and handcuffs…
Sex with Jake is not an option.
She’d settled on a red halter top that left her midriff and most of her back bare and added a short leather jacket on top, because she wasn’t brave enough to walk through the streets without some cover.
The biggest change was her hair. “I want to look badass and sexy,” she’d told her hairdresser nervously. He’d added highlights of different reds, from gold to deep crimson, to her nondescript, dark-brown hair. She loved it. He’d left it long but cut in layers. He’d then sprayed it and had her hang her head upside down while he used the dryer.
When she swung her head up, he pulled and poked it another ten minutes before pronouncing her sexy and letting her view the results.
“It’s the ‘just got out of bed’ look,” he announced.