In Anyone Else's Shoes (6 page)

‘What’s the timetable for starting, Jason? I mean, I would have to move to Vegas, and I’d need some time to wrap up my … affairs here.’

‘First of the month. But I wouldn’t have submitted your name for this position if it meant relocating you to corporate. You’ll need to travel – a lot – to market and corporate, and occasionally to stores in your region, but you’ll be based here. There’s no need to move. Is that OK?’

‘That’s … phenomenal! I guess I don’t really even have to think about it, Jason. I wasn’t expecting this.’

‘Good – it’s settled then. By the way, since you’re not asking, I guess I’ll just tell you. The job pays double what you’re earning now. Don’t even think about trying to negotiate.’

‘I don’t know how to thank you. I’m overwhelmed, to say the least.’

Emma was hoping that she
would
be able to express her gratitude later. But Jason had been all business the entire evening. He hadn’t exhibited even a hint of the reticence or bashfulness that defined his inability to communicate with a woman who’d captured his interest. She began to think her previous rejections of his advances had taken hold, and that maybe her opportunity to be with him had passed. Just as well, she thought. Although her position in the company had changed, he would still be her boss; sex would only complicate things and make everything a bit … stickier. Besides, she did prefer her men a bit more confident – a bit more … aggressive. Emma took her win and tucked it in her pocket. Her win-win would just have to wait for another time.

The drink, the Jag, the promotion – Emma wasn’t sure which was responsible for the warm vibe swirling through her body. They were almost back to Alyssa’s store, where Emma had left her car. Ever the gentleman, Jason had offered to drive her home and then retrieve her in the morning, but she insisted she was fine with their original plan. She glanced over at him and mentally licked her lips, wishing things could have been a little different. She refused to allow the phrase “if only” to enter her thoughts. It had been a good night – a great night – and she didn’t want to tarnish it with pointless notions.

When they arrived at the store, Emma realised her car keys weren’t in her purse. After a minute’s worth of panic she remembered she had left them atop Alyssa’s desk, amidst the chaotic clutter that perfectly articulated the essence of her friend.

Jason unlocked the door and held it open for Emma, then accompanied her to retrieve her keys. Scattered slices of light guided the pair through a veiled web of displays and couches, easing their trek to the back of the store. Emma nudged open the door to Alyssa’s office, fingers fumbling across the wall in search of a light switch. While she attempted to illuminate the room, Jason edged ahead and bowed over the desk, seeking her keys. Within a few seconds they were in his hands, and he held them up into a speck of light for Emma to see. She stopped her search for the switch and reached towards Jason – across the room, and into the glow.

Chapter Seven

Jason extended his hand towards Emma, her car keys pinched between his thumb and forefinger. The space between the two slowly narrowed as Emma inched forward, stretching her arm out to his. Jason released the weighty, metal chain with its tangle of weathered charms and frayed lanyards of purple and pink, and let it slide into her hand. Something was happening, but Emma wasn’t sure what it was. In the dimly lit quiet of the sleeping store, this simple exchange of keys meant something more – something of fuzzy significance.

‘Thank you again for the promotion, Jason. I can’t tell you what this means to me.’

‘I’ll tell you one more time, Emma; I would not have offered you the position, if it weren’t deserved. You’re actually doing me … us, a big favour by accepting. The more quality people Untamed Soles employs in key positions, the more successful we’ll become. I should be thanking you. Congratulations.’

Jason offered Emma his hand – not as a gesture of affection, but in a customary, business ritual kind of way. She reached for it, and with an unsettled, unsure grip, went through the motions. She wasn’t expecting this. Maybe he had accepted the notion of them as nothing more than a business team. Maybe that’s what he actually wanted, she thought.

Emma needed to reach out beyond a handshake. Even if they were exclusively business now, they’d already crossed some thresholds that could never be erased – at least in her mind. She released her hand from his and moved closer, arms spread wide. If nothing else, she wanted him to know that they could still be more than handshakes and coffee. Their embrace was pleasant and business-like – nothing more.

‘You earned this promotion, Emma. I won’t say it again. It had absolutely nothing to do with my … personal feelings for you. OK?’ Jason stepped away, a guarded distance from her, and she saw it, noticed it again. His eyes broke from hers, and without moving his legs he started wandering, his gaze shifting from the floor to a wall, and then back. She wanted to tell him that it was OK, that she wasn’t to be feared – ever. But she could sense the other side of him return – the shy, holding out hope side. A thin smile broke across her face.

‘OK.’

‘I do care for you very much. You know that, right?’ He looked above her face when he spoke, brushing her hair with his eyes. ‘And I still would like to know you better.’

Emma didn’t want to let this offer slip. She reached for him with outstretched, yearning hands, and pulled him to her. With arms wrapped around his waist and eyes lost in the lusty stubble of his cheeks, she closed in to nuzzle his neck. She pulled away after a minute to gaze into the glimmering, russet windows of his soul, hoping to glimpse the truth.

He lowered his head and she lifted hers. Their lips touched softly, carefully testing the waters. They broke apart again and stood silently, breathing each other in, wondering what the other had in mind.

‘What if you followed me home?’ Emma asked with narrowed, begging eyes.

‘What if?’ Jason replied. His inhibitions seemed to disappear with his question. He was seduced by her – not by a wall, or the floor.

‘I think I’d invite you to come up to my room – maybe.’

‘I don’t suppose you have any etchings you’d like me to see?’

‘Why? Are you a fan of the arts?’

‘I like some things … Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘You and Ty.’

‘That’s not a question. And Ty’s not my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re wondering.’

‘What do you think?’

‘I think you’re asking for all cards on the table, mister. Will I get to see your hand as well?’

‘I’d be happy to show you my hand, Emma … I’m not so sure you’ll want to see it, though.’

Emma’s mind stumbled like it had strapped on a pair of four-inch heels. She looked hard into Jason’s expressive, amber eyes, searching for the meaning behind his words. She hadn’t considered that he might have a hand to show, a background to reveal, a life beyond what she had selfishly assigned him in her fantasies. But he did. And she wanted, she needed, to see this hand of his.

‘OK – I’ll go first then. Ty’s my roommate – you know that. He used to be my boyfriend, but everything slowly disintegrated. Somehow, I guess because our relationship fell apart little by little instead of with one giant swing of an axe, we were able to remain friends – and roommates. Neither one of us has yet to move on, at least romantically speaking – although, if he could figure out a way to have a sexual affair with his business, I wouldn’t put it past him. I don’t know – I care for Ty a lot, I suppose. We care for each other. But that’s as far as it goes.’

Emma waited for a response, an exposed hand … a shoe to fall. There was something that he was willing to reveal, and she was ready for it.

Jason seemed deep in thought. His hands slid from Emma’s shoulders as he took her in with his surveying gaze. He reached for one of her hands with both of his, and it disappeared, huddled between broad palms and splayed fingers. He pressed tight with his strong hands, massaging the soft skin from her fingertips to her wrist, and she looked up at him, waiting.

‘Well?’ She swallowed, bracing herself for anything.

‘Come – let’s sit.’ Jason led Emma to one of the black leather couches angled across the darkened sales floor. He lifted her, then placed her – as if she were a decorative cushion – at one end. He sat close, running warm fingers through her walnut-brown locks. ‘I love spending time with you, Emma. I love how you make me feel.’ He continued to stroke her hair while stroking her ego. ‘Your eyes, your hair, your sweet personality, and yes, your adorable little figure – I love it all, I … want it all.’

Emma soaked up every word, watching each one pour from his mouth. But was this the hand he was hesitant to show? He’d already professed his desire for her before now. This wasn’t news. She could listen to him talk like this all day, but his so-called “confession” was leaving her feeling a little short-changed. She wished he was stronger, less timid,
like Ty
, but she understood that perhaps that was something that might only materialise with age.

‘Come live with me, Emma.’ His eyes were locked on hers, and they weren’t going anywhere. ‘You want to get a fresh start, and I want to …’ Jason broke his gaze, his face falling to his chest.

‘I can’t, Jason. Maybe … maybe down the road – who knows? But I’m not sure we’re right for each other – not now.’ Emma’s hands found his hair, and she caressed the soft strands between her fingers. He had it all, she thought. Her mouth watered – her whole body watered – just looking at him. But he was always at her feet, always yielding to her. Sometimes … she just wanted to be taken.

Jason brought his lips to hers, and his tongue bumped against her teeth, begging for entry. Emma let him in, and they kissed softly, quietly. He sat up, and she could see a blazing passion in his eyes she had not seen before.

Without speaking, Jason unbuttoned his shirt – almost as if he was about to do something dirty and he wanted it out of the way. Then, he reached down and, with single-minded focus, began to unbutton hers.

Nonplussed, Emma remained quiet as he worked slowly, diligently. From her neck to her belly a narrow path of skin was now exposed to the shadows – exposed to him. His gaze followed the trail from the button of her pants up to her eyes, and he lingered there, waiting. Emma wasn’t sure what he wanted, or what he was waiting for, but she assumed it was her turn to unbutton, or remove, something.

Jason kept waiting, staring, and smiling, until Emma understood his unspoken request. But she wasn’t about to remove her own blouse. He could do that for her, if he wanted – if he could screw up the nerve. Instead, she stripped him of his teasing, yawning shirt, her hands daring to caress inches of hard flesh along the way. He was naked from the waist up, and she didn’t stop exploring with her hands, or her eyes. Her fingers traced his small, hard nipples and then pressed firmly against the well-defined rise of his chest. His abs were foothills, rippling slowly below the high ground. She clenched her thighs tight, intensifying her pleasure, her wetness. Then he took over.

Jason reached inside Emma’s blouse below her breasts, and, with his hands bracing her back, lifted her, until he could push the top off, and away. She was revealed to him, and he wasted no time lowering his face to her. He had become energised – the blaze of passion now an inferno of lust. He cupped her breasts with strong hands, his thumbs kneading the fleshy bottoms with a measured pulse. His lips planted soft kisses on her firm nipples, and then the kisses became licks, and he sucked in the tips and devoured them like hard candies. He worked her over until she thought she would explode. She ached for him to shift lower. She needed him, something – anything – inside her. He moved his face inches from hers and peered deep into her feverish eyes.

‘Do you trust me … Emma?’

She could only nod. The rest of her was paralysed with desire.

Emma watched Jason’s profile rise above her in the shadowy light. He reached for her arms and brought them together over her belly. With one hand he gathered her wrists together, his grip strong, controlling. His other hand moved to his belt, and in one quick motion he removed it, the emphatic whoosh of leather against cotton filling the quiet moment.

Jason had done this before – Emma knew this. This was his secret. This is what he couldn’t explain, what he feared explaining. This was his hand. And now, this hand was busy looping his belt around her wrists, securing them, disabling them.

He reached into his pants pocket and removed a long, thick shoelace. With no protest from Emma, he coiled the lace through the belt, raised her arms above her head, and then knotted the restraint around the arm of the couch. He bent down, his face close to Emma’s. He searched for any clues of confusion, or fear – or regret.

‘Are you OK with this?’

This time, a faint, blissful smile accompanied her nod.

Beginning at her navel, he strolled his way up her body with kisses – hot, sensuous nibbles of passion. He snaked around her breasts and wandered up to, and across, her neck, then drifted back down the other side – slowly, purposefully. He took the route again, and then again. Emma’s hips shifted above the leather cushion, and she whimpered from the pleasure, and from the aching desire to be filled.

Without regard for her obvious need, Jason took his time, skating his hands over her breasts and up and down her arms. Emma lifted her ass from the couch, praying he could decode the tacit plea to remove her jeans. Jason let her hover for a moment, relishing the view of her seductive body arched in such a way. She thought there would be no end to his taunting hesitation.

In time, he reached for the button of her jeans. Her torture persisted as he toyed with the button, unfastening, and then fastening it back in place. Her tethered arms struggled for freedom, and her need to touch him, grab him – pull him into her – mounted. Each time he would brush against her, she would wrestle, frustrated, against her restraints.

‘Please?’ She half-whispered, half-moaned her appeal.

‘Ah, the magic word,’ Jason murmured back. He smiled as he scanned her incarcerating pants. ‘These will just have to go.’

Within seconds, Emma was a bikini panty away from naked. Jason moved down to her calves and, holding one in each hand, drew her legs apart – just enough for him to spy his destination. He crouched to his knees, raised her legs towards the dark ceiling, and then lowered them slightly, hooking her bare heels over his sturdy shoulders. His fingers dug deep into her calves, and he massaged his way forward, inching along at a trying pace. The further he progressed, the more he leant in to her. By the time his hands had hold of her thighs, rubbing them, delighting in them, his face was alongside her. He drew an extended breath, holding in all of her that he could.

He reached for her panties, flicking a long finger over the damp fabric; Emma’s torso twisted and wriggled under his touch. Take me, please, she begged silently. Jason cupped his hand over her mound and pressed gently with one finger, the defining lines of her sex growing evident through the thin material. With his palm, he gently massaged the steamy gap between her thighs, relentlessly pursuing her ecstasy. Emma’s whimpers escalated to brash moans, and she was ready.

Jason wedged two thumbs under the narrowest slip of waistband, and then jerked her panties from their coveted spot, down her legs, and over her feet. Waves of his hair danced about her lap when his head fell between her thighs and his tongue charged to her slit. It slid with ease between her exceptionally primed folds and darted into her hole, reaching, probing, touching everything. Emma screamed alongside her orgasm, her arms twisting, begging for release as well. Pleasure overcame her, and Jason stayed with her – licking, nibbling, sucking – until she was done, until she had regained some semblance of consciousness.

He was not the shy man she thought him to be. Sweet, yes – but hot sweet. Hot, sticky, over-the-top sweet. Emma had wanted him before. But he was more than the smart, funny, well-mannered yummy
boy
she had lusted after. He was a man – a man of power – and she liked it. He didn’t have a little secret to keep any longer. He could look into her eyes now, and she could gaze back at him with a knowing smile – a consenting smile.

‘Move in with me.’ Jason whispered the command in her ear, his broad palm caressing her belly.

‘Untie me, and I’ll give you my answer.’ Emma’s coy smile belied her true intent – to get her hands on that ass of his; that firm, perfectly shaped ass that was within reach – or would be soon.

He could only obey her now. She could see, scribbled across his face, his thirst for her answer.

Her fettered wrists were soon freed. She pushed herself up and then pushed him back, his head dropping to the arm of the couch, his eyes never breaking from hers.

She turned and straddled him quickly, her ass in his face, her hands all over his hard abs. He had hold of her cheeks, and she knew, without looking, that his eyes were full of her. Now it was her turn. She grabbed at his jeans, tugging and yanking at them, till they had reached his ankles. She contemplated his erection as it pulsed against the fabric of his black, woven boxers. She laid a hand over it to feel it, and to gauge it. A small, wet spot sprouted where the tip of his cock pressed against the material, and she circled a finger around the area. She wasn’t about to free the caged snake – not yet – not until he had been reimbursed for his earlier efforts.