Authors: Cydney Michele; Rax Lutishia; Grant Lovely

Crush (7 page)

BOOK: Crush

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Back at Work

My eyes opened like a déjà vu. I registered a few things at once: It was very light outside, I was naked and neatly tucked into my bed, and the scent of chocolate and coffee was in the air. In other words, not a normal morning. I sat up and long-neglected muscles twanged in symphony to remind me of my extended weekend’s activities.

Monday, Jason and I had lounged around his house watching old movies before coming back to my place. Jason had spent the night teaching me things about my body that I had never known before and was determined never to forget. We had had another go-round in the bathtub and it was quickly becoming one of my favorite ways to get clean and be dirty all at the same time.

With a deep sigh, I realized it was Tuesday morning and time to get back to reality.

“Jason?” I called out to no response. Turning to my bedside table, I saw an insulated travel mug from the coffeehouse with a note propped up in front of it. Bold masculine handwriting filled the small sheet.

“Jayla, you looked so sweet sleeping; I didn’t want to wake you. Brought you some of my special white mocha, hoping after the past few days you haven’t had your fill. Thank you for an
incredible
weekend. See you soon, Jason.”

I read the note a few more times as an increasingly large smile spread across my face. He’d underlined “incredible” three times. Classy note from a classy guy, I thought. I flicked open the lid on the coffee mug and moaned . . . instant flashback. Cool green eyes smiling into mine, hot body pressed against mine, the thick feeling of fullness. Shaking my head, I took a sip. It was perfect, of course. And no, even after the past few nights, I had not gotten my fill. Not of this coffee or of Jason Jericho. I sat savoring the flavors exploding on my tongue and the memory reel playing in my head until my eyes fell on the clock.

Choking on my mocha I blinked, squeezed my eyes shut, and blinked them open again—8:15? I couldn’t even think of the last time I wasn’t at work by 7:30. I shook my head as if clearing it from a dream and headed into the bathroom with my coffee in hand. I saw that the bathtub had been drained and the towels from last night folded and stacked neatly on the counter. Jason wasn’t a dream but he was definitely too good to be true.

Jetting into work over an hour and a half later than usual had its benefits: I was so far behind schedule that I had very little time to dwell on my evening. Trying to play catch-up all morning, Kim had no time to do more than spend odd moments eyeing me suspiciously. At close to one o’clock, she came in with two salads and bottled tea. Closing the door behind her, she waited until we were situated at my small conference table to start the interrogation.

“Okay, what’s up?”

Innocently I blinked at her as I spritzed vinaigrette dressing over the spinach leaves. “What?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You were two hours late, you’ve been smiling all day, your hair is fluffy, and your eyes are shiny. . . . What’s up?”

I smiled. “I finally got a good night’s rest.”

She waved her fork at me. “That’s not it.” Popping the top on her peach tea, she stared harder at me.

“Seriously Kim, I really just got—”

“Laid!” she screamed out.

I turned bright red. “Shhh! Kim! Stop—”

“That’s it!” She hopped up like she’d won the lottery and started dancing around the office. “Oh my God! It all makes sense; you come floating in all smiley and stress free. Yes, finally got some. And from the looks of you it was good, too, girl. Um, um, um. Wasn’t it, girl? Tell me everything. Who was he, how was he? What did he look like? How’d you hook up? Oh girl, ended your drought—high five!” She held her hand out.

Through the glass panel, I could see co-workers glancing in. “Kim,” I hissed, “if you put your hand down and quit making a scene, I might answer a question or two!”

She held her hand closer. “Just one little ‘got my groove back’ high five?”

I sighed and laughed. “Fine, whatever.” I slapped palms with her. “Now will you sit down?”

Kim sat down meekly before grinning triumphantly. “You go, girl; okay—now dish!”

Smiling a little dreamily I closed my eyes and thought about him. “It was a guy I met at the coffee shop. He was tall . . .”

“With the body of Adonis, A-Rod kinda gorgeous, guys wanna be him, girls wanna be with him type of vibe?” she said in an awed-filled voice.

I frowned at the dead-on description and opened my eyes. “Yeah—but how did you know?”

She pointed out toward the cubicles. “Your coffee-man cometh . . . bearing gifts.”

My head swiveled. Sure enough, Jason was walking up and down the aisles with some of his staff, handing out coffee samples and muffins while chatting up my co-workers. And yes, he charmed men and women alike. I pushed my chair back and stood up. Kim had already gone to the door and swung it open to get a better look.

He was in perfectly tailored khakis with a polo shirt advertising the coffee shop logo, an outfit that would appear ordinary on most other men. He smiled at my executive vice president, laughing at what I’m sure was a completely lame joke. I stepped into the doorway as he glanced in my direction. He stopped talking in midsentence. Muttering something to his staff, he handed over the tray of coffee he was carrying and headed my way, purposefully.

“Oh my,” I mouthed and saw his lips quirk upward in response.

Our eyes locked as he moved toward me and I was well aware of the crackling electricity bouncing between me and him. Everyone in the office was watching in interested silence as he approached. His eyes raked down my body, then back up. I had on a simple navy safari-style dress that buttoned down the front with dark brown sling-back pumps. The outfit that had seemed simple and professional a few hours ago now felt sexy and amazingly “easy access” if the look in his eyes meant anything at all. He raised his eyes back up to mine and gave the smile that I now knew meant, “It’s about to be on.”

I froze completely, my breath catching in my throat. My mind raced in a million different directions. What was he doing here? Could I clear my calendar and take him home with me RIGHT NOW? How long would it take to get there? How soon could I press my naked body back up against his? How soon until we made each other scream again?

I shifted uncomfortably with the now-familiar humidity in my panties that he caused effortlessly. He was close enough to see my telltale shift and his eyes did that heating-up sizzle thing that they do.

“Damn, girl!” Kim said from beside me.

I jumped a little, having completely forgotten she or anyone else existed. I took my eyes off of Jason long enough to catch a breath and send her a glance. “Close your mouth, Kim.”

“But, but—damn, girl!”

He was close enough to hear so I just nudged her in the ribs with one arm while reaching out for Jason with the other. “Hey you,” I said, proud of my casual, cool chick voice. No need to advertise that this man had given me seven orgasms in one night. Or was it eight?

“Jayla,” he said, taking my hand in his, his voice triggering all sorts of memories. Him slamming into me from the back, holding my legs open on the coffeehouse countertop, licking the dripping parts of me like a lollipop. He squeezed my hand in an I-know-what-you’re-thinking way before turning to Kim.

“Oh, uh—Kim, this is Jason. Jason, Kim—my associate manager.”

“Great to meet you, Kim. Beautiful name.” He dropped my hand to shake hers as she practically bounced up and down with exuberance, looking from him to me and back again.

“Jason, so glad to meet you! So tell me—”

“Thanks, Kim. I’ll finish up with you later.” Practically shoving her out, I pulled him into the office and shut the door, locking it behind me. As I turned I noticed how many people were “casually” passing by the side of my office with the glass panel. Walking over, I pulled the privacy screens down before swiveling around.

“Hello, Jason.” I smiled.

“Hi, Jayla.”

.“So this is a surprise,” I said, still trying to play it cool as I took a step or two toward him.

He matched my steps with his own. “A good one, I hope.”

Standing less than a breath from each other, I smiled up at him. “I think so.”

Sliding his hand behind my neck, he leaned down and kissed me. Gently at first with lips closed until I sighed and wrapped my arms around his neck. With that signal, his tongue stroked out in a bold sliding rhythm that had me swallowing a moan and stepping back.

“So . . .” I breathed out.

“I didn’t want to wait to see you. I had to leave early this morning. I really didn’t want the morning-after, note-on-the-pillow vibe to linger so I thought I’d—”

“Track me down and disrupt my day?” I said with a smile so he knew I wasn’t angry.

“Exactly. How am I doing?” He reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.

My eyes threatened to close and I forced them open, giving him a decidedly “melty” look. “You can’t touch me like that here.”

“No?” he said softly, his hand drifting down my shoulder to rest above my heart. “Beating so fast, Jayla? Embarrassed again?”

I took a step back and fashioned a glare at him. “Hey, do I come to your workplace and make you want to get naked?” Realizing I had done just that, I blushed as he started laughing. “Okay, bad question—but you know what I mean.”

He nodded. “Yes, you have to separate buttoned-up ‘professional Jayla’ from ‘riding on my tongue begging for more Jayla.’ ” His eyes darkened in remembrance as he finished talking.

I leaned forward to rest my head on his chest. “You aren’t helping.”

He reached his hand down under my hem and slid his hand upward, shifting my panties to the side and sliding two fingers into my slit. He groaned. “You are soaking wet.”

“You make me that way,” I whispered, traced my fingers across his hardness currently twitching in his pants.
Just like that, less than two minutes and we’ve gone from zero to sixty.

He flicked his thumb across me and I pressed my mouth into his shirt to keep from crying out. “Do you want me to make you come real quick?” he whispered in my ear, his thumb now moving in quick circles. His lips found a crazy-sensitive spot on my neck and he nuzzled it gently. My breath hitched as I felt more liquid gush out over his hand. “You only have to say the words, Jayla.”

Here I was, at work—not ten feet from my staff and supervisors—and for the first time in a long time, my job was not the most important thing in my world. Five days ago, I hadn’t known anything about this man, yet right this second he and what he could do were the only things that mattered. “Oh God, do it.”

“What do you want me to do, baby?” he teased, sliding his middle finger inside of me.

“Do it, Jason. Make me come,” I begged.

His thumb pressed once, twice on my sensitized button while his middle finger circled, hitting all the angles inside my walls.

“Yes!” I bit out before bringing his lips to mine as the orgasm slammed into me. He swallowed my cries as he kept up the pressure to let me ride out the pleasure as long as possible. Finally, I lifted my head and gasped for breath. “You’re going to be the death of me,” I said as he withdrew his hand. I grabbed some Kleenex and bottled water from the desk.

As I cleaned off his hand, he smiled. “But you’d die happy.”

I smiled before noticing his still-impressive erection straining against the zipper. “Oh Jason, I’m so sorry. What about you?”

He shrugged. “You can make it up to me tonight.”

I looked up. “What’s tonight?”

“That’s actually what I came by for,” he grinned ruefully. “To ask you out on a ‘real date.’ Got a little sidetracked.”

“Me, too.” I grinned back. “Sure, did you have something in mind?”

“Thought I’d take you to a great little jazz club / martini bar that I know.”

Something in his tone caught my attention. “Just happen to know a spot, do you?”

He shrugged modestly. “Okay, I own it—will you come with me?”

As if I could say no to anything he suggested. “Sure, why not? What’s your specialty martini?”

He smiled. “White Mochatini.”

Of course it was. “How can I refuse?”

“I really don’t know,” he said with a smile. “Pick you up at eight?”

“I’ll be ready.”

Date Night

Jason had been more physically and emotionally intimate with this woman in the last few days than he had been with anyone else in his life . . . ever. But he found himself unaccountably nervous as he stood outside her door. He had changed clothes three times, settling on a lightweight pair of flat-front pants and a mint green shirt (he was just vain enough to know it matched his eyes) and adding a perfectly tailored Italian silk jacket in an icy white color.

“It’s just a date,” he told himself. But he had the feeling that so much more was riding on this evening and he wanted it to be perfect. “Okay, Jericho—pull it together.” He rang the doorbell.

Jayla swung open the door and his jaw dropped. Jayla had pulled out all the stops this evening. She was in a glittery skintight silver dress that showed off every asset she possessed . . . and those were considerable. Her hair was partially pinned up so that her neck was exposed, but wavy strands escaped here and there to tease against her skin. She was in sky-high silver shoes and smelled like an entire field of flowers. “Hi, Jason,” she said with a sweet smile. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”

“Baby, the way you are looking . . . if I come in, we’re not leaving tonight. Maybe for the rest of the week.”

“Oh!” She turned around in a circle. “Jason like?”

“A lot. A whole lot. Grab your purse, woman, we’re out of here.”

Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the Gold Coast Martini Lounge with Jayla on his arm. He watched with pride as she looked around in admiration. “Okay, Jason, how many of these do you own?” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

“My partner, Rick, and I own four of these,” Jason admitted.

She nodded slowly. “Do I even want to ask what else you own?”

“I’ll tell you if you’re dying to know, but I thought you might like this artist and want to enjoy the music tonight.” He led her over to a booth near the stage but still to the side enough so they were semisecluded.

As they sat down, a waitress dressed all in black approached the table. “Hi, Mr. Jason,” the young woman said. “Mr. Rick did not tell us you were coming in. What can I get you and your pretty lady?”

“The pretty lady will have the house martini and I’ll have sparkling water. Thanks, Natasha.”

“Do you want me to tell Rick you’re here?”

Jason shrugged. “He’ll be on the floor soon enough. No need to make a special announcement.”

Jayla finished looking around. “This is lovely, Jason, you must be very proud of what you’ve built.”

Looking at it through her eyes, he was. “Rick and I have done all right for ourselves.”

“So this Rick . . . ?”

“Enrique Santos. He’s been my closest friend since high school. He’s also my business partner. So far it works.”

Natasha brought the drinks back and Jayla smiled at her. “That was fast.” She raised the glass and took a sip. Her eyes widened. “Jason!”

Jason blinked innocently. “Yes?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk? When a drink tastes this smooth, it’s got to be pure alcohol. What is in this?”

“Godiva White Chocolate Liqueur, Kahlua, vanilla vodka, and cinnamon schnapps.”

“And you’re drinking sparkling water?”

“Designated driver. I’m trying to be a responsible citizen and all.”

Jayla leaned toward Jason after taking another deep sip. “Are you really?”

“Really what?”

“Trying to be a responsible citizen this evening?” Her voice turned husky and she slid her hand along his thigh.

“Maybe not.” He rested his hand on her leg and slid upward. Just then, the lights dimmed and a voice came over the speaker system.

“The Gold Coast Martini Lounge is proud to present P.J. Morton and his band! Show him some love, Chicago!”

Jayla’s mouth fell open. “What?! Did I tell you how much I love this guy?”

“It’s your ringtone, it’s on repeat on your iPod, and you’ve been humming songs from his latest album for four days straight. I got the message.”

Jayla took Jason’s jaw in her hand and turned his face toward hers. She placed a slow, seriously sensual kiss on his lips before leaning back. “You are too good to be true.”

“As long as you think so.”

They turned as the artist bounded onto the stage. For the next hour and a half, they enjoyed the show; singing along, getting up to dance once or twice, and clapping or swaying along to the well-played music.

When the show ended, they went backstage to meet the artist. Jayla was still smiling and shaking her head fifteen minutes later as they headed back out front. Jason led her to the door when they were stopped by a good-looking gentleman with wavy black hair and blue eyes.

“Were you leaving without saying hello?” Rick asked Jason.

Jason slapped his back. “Truthfully, I forgot all about you.” He turned back toward Jayla. “Jayla, my business partner, Rick. Rick, this is Jayla.”

Rick shook her hand and exchanged pleasantries, looking from her to Jason and back again. “Wait a minute! Is this the girl from the coffee shop?”

Jayla raised a brow and shot Jason a look.

Jason sent a warning glance Rick’s way. “This is the young lady that I met in the coffee shop, yes.”

“So I guess I owe you five hundred dollars, you suave son of a gun,” Rick said.

“I beg your pardon?” Jayla asked.

“It’s not what you think,” Jason told Jayla and tugged her toward the door. “Rick, you can keep it. Classy as ever, I see.”

When they got to the car, Jason turned to Jayla. “Let me explain.”

“Please do.”

“When you sent me home after that night in the park I told Rick that instead of chasing you, I was going to wait until you came to me. He bet me five hundred dollars that you wouldn’t.”

“Huh. Pretty sure of yourself, were you?”

“Jayla, I wasn’t sure. I was hopeful and I never took a dime.”

“Because I’m not about the game-playing.”

“Neither am I, I completely understand. Rick can be a thoughtless idiot sometimes.”

“That was the only bet?”

“It wasn’t really even a bet, but yes, that was it. Why?”

“I wondered if you’d bet him how many times we’d be together in a five-day period.”

Jason smiled. “I never would have imagined. Are we going for a record?”

Jayla smiled back. “Take me home and let’s find out.”

BOOK: Crush

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