Just Physical (15 page)

“It wasn't that bad,” her mother said.

No, actually, it hadn't been. Though she would have chosen another way to come out to her parents, they had taken it in stride.

“So what's the story with…?” Her mother paused expectantly.

“Jill,” Crash supplied after a moment's hesitation, knowing her mother would get it out of her sooner or later anyway. “Jill Corrigan.”

For several seconds, only silence filtered through the line. Then her mother let out a shriek.

“Shit, Mom!” Crash pulled the cell phone away from her ear and then carefully moved it back. “Believe it or not, stunt people need intact hearing.”

“Jill Corrigan? The Jill Corrigan?” Her mother's voice was still higher than normal, sounding like an excited teenager.

“The one and only.”

“Oh, I loved her in
Coffee to Go
. She's just so funny. I stopped watching when they wrote her out of the show.”

Great.
Her mother was a fan. Now she would never hear the end of it.

“You have to bring her home and introduce us!”

Crash thumped her forehead against the door several times. “I told you. It's not like that. We're just friends.”

Her mother let out a disbelieving huff. “Don't tell me she's not your type.”

“She is, but… It's…complicated.” She didn't want to mention Jill's MS, not sure if her mother knew.

Steps came from the hallway.

Crash lifted her head away from the door and checked the peephole again.

Even through the fish-eye lens that distorted her features, there was no mistaking the person that slowly walked by.

Jill!

Someone had lent her a coat, but she was still wearing her wet costume underneath. Why the hell hadn't she gotten out of that thing on the set? Had Jill been too proud to let anyone help her with the buttons?

“I need to go, Mom,” Crash said into the phone. She didn't wait for an answer but hung up and threw the cell phone on the bed. With her hand on the door handle, she hesitated for a second and glanced down at herself. She was wearing just a pair of boxer shorts and a thin tank top beneath the bathrobe the hotel had provided. Shrugging, she opened the door anyway, stepped out, and pulled it closed behind her.

Too late, she realized that she hadn't pocketed her key card before leaving her room. There would be time to worry about it later. For now, she wanted to focus on Jill, who had stopped in front of her room farther down the hall.

She was fumbling the key card out of her purse. Her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't get the card into the slot. “Come on. Open, dammit.” She kicked the door.

“Hey there, Rambo. You might want to leave breaking down doors to us stunt people.” Crash stepped up behind her and took the key card from her.

“What are you doing?” Jill protested.

“Opening the door for you.”

“Thanks, but I can manage.”

Normally, Crash tried to be respectful of her wishes, but not this time. Jill's hands were ice-cold beneath hers. She covered them with her own for several moments, hoping to warm them, before she swiped the card through the card reader.

When the door clicked open, Crash grasped her elbow and led her inside the hotel room.

Jill had just enough time to notice that the maid had been in before Crash guided her past the bed and toward the bathroom. Jill dug in her heels. “What are you doing?”

“You're shaking like a leaf. You need to warm up, and the fastest way to do that is to take a hot shower.”

“I will,” Jill said. “But you don't need to stay and supervise.” The thought of Crash watching her undress sent goose bumps of a different kind down her body.

Crash gave her a crooked smile. “Well, I would go back to my room, but there's a problem with that. I pulled the door closed without taking my key card with me. Would you mind giving me asylum in your humble abode?”

She and Crash sleeping in the same room, with only one bed and Crash wearing a bathrobe, with probably just her underwear beneath? Jill wildly shook her head.
No, no, no, no.
She had admirable restraint, but she was not a saint.

“But I could help you get out of those wet clothes,” Crash offered, managing to look completely innocent.

“Oh, I just bet you could.” Jill gave her a light swat to the shoulder. “No, thanks. I suggest you go down to the reception desk and request a replacement key card for your room.”

“Dressed like this?” Crash looked down at her state of dress…or rather undress. The V of her bathrobe had slid apart a little, giving Jill a glimpse of the thin, white tank top beneath. If she wasn't mistaken, Crash wasn't wearing a bra.

Jill had to swallow before she could get her mouth to work. “Then call down and have them bring up a new card. Feel free to use the phone.” She escaped into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and leaned against the wall. Her hands were still shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was from the cold. Truth be told, she didn't feel all that cold anymore. Even as tired and miserable as she was, the sight of Crash's bathrobe-clad body heated her from the inside out.

Crash's voice filtered through the door. For a moment, Jill thought she was talking to her, but then she realized Crash was probably on the phone, calling the reception desk to have a key card brought up.

She turned on the water in the shower and hesitated for several seconds, debating whether to set the temperature to hot or cold. Her libido could use the cool-off, but her body craved heat. Finally, she decided on water that was warm but not hot enough to cause her symptoms to flare. After struggling with the tiny buttons on her dress, she stepped beneath the spray. Amazing how heavenly the water flowing over her body felt after she'd been miserable in the fake rain all day.

She took her time, washing all remnants of the sticky milk from her hair, and tried not to think of the woman on the other side of the door while she ran her hands over her body to clean it.

Surely Crash was gone anyway. If she wasn't mistaken, there'd been a knock on the door several minutes ago—probably someone from the hotel had brought up a replacement key card.

When she stepped out of the shower and dried off, she realized that she'd forgotten to take clean, dry clothes into the bathroom with her. Crash did something to her brain that made clothing seem optional.

She eyed the wet costume lying in a puddle on the bathroom floor. No way was she getting back into that thing. Barefoot, with just a towel wrapped around herself, she stepped closer to the door and pressed her ear against it.

Nothing. Everything was quiet on the other side.

Crash had probably gone back to her own room by now.

She opened the bathroom door an inch and peered out.

The part of the room where she'd left Crash standing was empty.

Instead of relief, the emotion that swept through Jill felt closer to regret.
Come on. It's better this way, you know that.
But it was getting harder and harder to make herself believe it. Sighing, she opened the door more fully and stepped through.

Two steps into the room, she stopped abruptly.

Crash hadn't left. She was sitting in the armchair in the corner. The tan skin of her legs, bare up to mid-thigh where the robe had slid up, gleamed in the soft light of the bedside lamp.

Both of them froze.

“Jesus.” Crash breathed out the word, her voice filled with surprise and awe. Her gaze slid over Jill's nearly naked body, making every inch of it tingle in a decidedly non-MS kind of way, before she respectfully looked away and studied the pattern of the carpet as if it were a fascinating piece of art.

“Sorry. I thought you'd left,” Jill mumbled and clutched the towel against her chest.

“No, I wanted to make sure you're okay before I go. You don't need to apologize,” Crash said, still politely looking at the floor. Almost beneath her breath, she added, “Hell, no. No apology needed at all.”

The admiration in Crash's husky voice sent heat through her body, but she pretended not to have heard. She dashed across the room to her suitcase, where all of her clothes were because she hadn't yet had time to unpack. Getting the lock to open proved to be difficult since her fingers were trembling again. This time, the shaking definitely had nothing to do with being cold and everything to do with the heated expression in Crash's eyes when she looked at her.

“You're still trembling.” Worry was obvious in Crash's voice. The armchair creaked as she stood and stepped up behind Jill.

No, no, no, don't come any closer!
The resolution to send Crash away warred with the need to have her near and feel her against her own body. Sudden anger gripped her. Damn Crash for putting her into this situation. Before meeting her, she'd always known that staying away from women was the right thing to do. But now… Why couldn't Crash leave and lounge around in just a bathrobe in her own damn room?

“Are you still cold?” Crash asked.

Jill abandoned her fruitless attempts of opening the suitcase and whirled around. “No, damn you, I'm not cold at all!” She had turned so fast that she lost her balance.

Crash caught her around the waist.

The touch of her hands was barely perceptible through the thick cotton of the towel, but it still sent a shiver through Jill.

Once Jill had found her balance, Crash slowly let go but stayed close as if to make sure Jill was really okay. “Careful,” Crash whispered. Her blue eyes looked nearly silver in the low light of the lamp. They were so close that the damp warmth of her breath brushed across Jill's lips.

She let out a groan. “We're not doing this again.” She licked her suddenly dry lips.

Crash's eyes tracked the movement with an expression that seemed almost hungry. “Why not?”

The look in her eyes made Jill long to pull her even closer and capture her mouth with hers. Making good use of her last two still-functioning brain cells, she answered, “Because I'm not in the market for a relationship. I told you that before.”

“Who said I am?” Crash gave back. “I've barely gotten over having my heart trampled on by my last girlfriend, and I'm not eager for a repeat.”

Jill stared at her. “Are you saying…? Are you talking about a one-night stand?”

Crash shrugged. “If that's all you're offering, I can live with it.” She pulled Jill closer, bridging the remaining space between them until their bodies pressed against each other. “I want to kiss you.”

God, Jill wanted that too, but she wasn't sure it was a good idea. “Crash, I…”

But Crash didn't wait for whatever Jill would have said. Her lips covered Jill's.

The kiss instantly deepened, melting Jill's resolve. She wove her fingers through Crash's hair and kissed her back.

Then Crash moved away a bit, creating half an inch of space between their lips.

A shiver ran through Jill at the sudden loss of contact.

“Kiss you all over,” Crash added, her faint Texas accent becoming more prominent in her husky voice. She lowered her head and kissed the spot between Jill's collarbones, right above the edge of the towel.

Groaning, Jill tilted her head back to give her more access. If this simple touch of Crash's lips to her skin made her body react like that, she might not survive if she let Crash continue.

Crash nibbled and kissed up the side of Jill's neck, creating goose bumps along her way.

“Stop!” Jill pressed one hand against Crash's terrycloth-clad shoulder to push her away, but somehow her hand lingered.

Crash froze, her lips still pressed to Jill's skin. Slowly, she lifted her head with a look on her face as if Jill had slapped her.

“I mean…wait,” Jill said quickly. “If we're going to do this, we need to establish some ground rules first.”

“Rules?” Crash repeated. One of the corners of her mouth twitched as if it couldn't decide whether to lift into an amused grin or turn down into an expression of dismay.

Those full, tempting lips… Jill tore her gaze away so she could think. “Rules,” she said again. “This will be just a one-time thing. Once we're back in LA, we'll go back to being just friends and never mention it again. No declarations of love. No commitment. No promises of a happily-ever-after. No expectations beyond this one night. No flowers, no dates, no endearments. Just something physical. Some safe fun, nothing else.” She looked Crash in the eyes. “Can you do that?”

Crash nodded.

“Say it. I need to hear it.”

“No declarations of love. No commitment. No happily-ever-afters,” Crash repeated. “Just sex.” Her lips quirked into a devilish grin. “Hot, steamy, mind-blowing sex.”

A wave of desire shot through Jill. The wild, passionate look in Crash's eyes jolted something inside of her, but still she held back. She needed to be sure, even if it might ruin the spontaneity of the moment, so she opened her mouth to tick off more rules.