Sweat Equity (21 page)

"Jack?" Yet another party guest needing something. He groaned, and went back into the steadily overheating room filled with people dancing, drinking, flirting, and if were not mistaken, making out in the corners. He grinned.

Time to get on with the real party.

Chapter Seventeen

Blake leaned back on the bar, his tall lover kept a hand on his shoulder, the conversation they seemed to be having one of intense emotion. Sara sighed and moved away, giving them a little privacy. The sensations from her body kept sending her distinct messages, ones she found harder and harder to ignore. She saw him re-enter the room, get waylaid by some other female who dragged him back out onto the dance floor.

 "You're a grown woman, Sara, you can make your own decisions, but I just want you to know I'm here if you need me," Blake's voice surprised her.

"I know. I love you," she leaned on his shoulder.

The band gave its best Red Hot Chili Peppers imitation as "Give It Away" blasted out next. She grabbed her brother's hand and led him to the dance floor unable to resist, needing to dance to release some tension.

 "Now for one more slow tune, before a break," the lead singer finally announced. Sara turned to leave the floor, but Adam found her and pulled her back. He had just started to speak when Jack put his hand on his shoulder.

"Do you mind, this is our song," he said pulling the other man off her with little effort.

She put her arms around Jack's neck, took a deep breath determined not to react. He pulled her close. The hand on her back heated her skin. He leaned into her neck, as she closed her eyes and moved to the music with him. His lips hovered around her ear, but never made contact. They didn't speak, but she could feel him, his lean strength painfully familiar, and her body started betraying her resolve.

She made an effort get her breathing under control. She found herself arching into his body, pressing against him, wishing he would pick her up and take her away from here, right now. Tears threatened behind her eyes as the song ended and she broke away quickly.

 "Thanks, Jack, nice rescue," indicating Adam with her head and made her way to the bar. He followed her. She leaned forward on her elbows, Jack stayed in her space, leaning backwards facing out over the crowd.

Sara let the scents and sounds of the party wash over her. Nearly eleven now, and still packed, people moved to and fro, coming together for conversations and even a little making out in dark corners. Ceiling fans circulated the air, and blowing the wisps of her hair around her neck.

 The sudden sensation of his lips on her bare shoulder, tongue lingering on her skin made her close her eyes.

 "Stop it," but the weakness in her voice betrayed her words.

 She sensed the party's pulse, as the crowd moved about her, some dancing to the canned music, laughing, drinking, talking, and yet felt as if she and Jack were in a weird bubble somehow removed from it all.

"Stop what," he asked, as he moved slightly closer to her.

She pulled her arm out of his range.

"It is a great party," she told him. "No detail left undone."

He shifted so that he leaned on one arm facing her, his breath on her neck, his torso so near she could feel the heat from his skin.

"We are an amazing team, Sara," he whispered to her. "Can't you see that?"

She turned to him, noting the scary proximity of his lips to hers.

 "I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered back. Her nerves jangled then went silent, succumbing to his calm, letting him soothe in way she still didn't understand.

"Us, Sara," he insisted, "you and me, together. You heard Greg; we are the future of this company, this industry. We know how to own this business, and can only be better at it together."

He leaned in to brush his lips against her ear and she had to clench her fists to resist reaching out for him.

 "The way you work a room, it's like I'm watching myself, you know? I love that about you," he whispered.

She pushed herself up off the bar, angry with him, with herself, with her own weak-kneed response to him. A tiny voice reminded her that she was as turned on as she'd been in weeks. She was moving towards him, and dancing away; knowing exactly how the night would end.

They stayed frozen in place. Jack not giving in to the loud requests for his presence on the dance floor, simply staring at her, hands in pockets, eyes blazing with something she didn't recognize. She could already feel his hands on her nipples, his mouth on her neck, although he was just standing there, looking at her. She heard his deep voice, telling her what to do, how to feel, to give in and trust him. She stumbled as a sudden claustrophobia enveloped her like a blanket. She stepped away from him and then panicked when he gripped her bicep.

 "We could really be great together," he repeated. "I wish you could see that. I wish I had figured it out sooner myself."

"Let go of me." She couldn't take it another minute. "I'm going home."

He tightened his grip instead, slowly pulling her back, using his other hand to circle her waist. "I have something for you, upstairs." She shivered again, already agreeing in her head as her lips formed the words.

"I'm leaving."

"No, you're not." His breath heated her skin. "The penthouse condo Sara, meet me there in thirty minutes."

He released her and walked away, making her stumble again, not realizing she'd been leaning into him. She bit her lip. What a colossal egomaniacal asshole. But she already knew she'd go.

Just once more,
New Sara justified to her.
One more time around the playroom with him. Then you leave. Forever.

Jack took a breath, picked up a conversational thread with the city council twerps but kept a close eye on her. Bound and determined to make up for years of bullshit, dissembling and compartmentalizing with women, with her. He'd been completely serious when he told her he wanted her as a partner, in all aspects of his life. The sight of her fucking around with that damn kid for the past few months had driven him around the bend. She was his goddamn it. He needed to prove it to her. He had so much more to offer but wanted her alongside him, irritating control-freak that she was, and he smiled to himself, knowing he could pull this off, especially since Blondie had taken a powder tonight.

A calm settled over his brain. The relief at finally knowing the moment was near, all the planning done, gave him a different kind of a buzz. He shifted, buttoned his coat over the growing bulge under his zipper. It would be tough, but he'd prove it once and for all, to her and likely to himself. They were meant to be together.

 He smiled, grabbed more water and worked through the crowd. He only had a few minutes to disentangle himself from this thing. Giving Jason a high sign, he made his way around the room, shaking hands, hugging women, his mind , his body revving into high gear. He watched her hit the up button on the elevator, and caught her eye as she looked over her shoulder. He took the steps three a time to beat her there.

****

By the time the elevator doors slid open, Jack already stood, a smile on his face and a blindfold dangling from his fingers. He tugged her out of the lift, pulled her close, walking her back until she had her back pressed against the wall outside the condo door. He held her hands over her head, and kissed her with a dizzy intensity.

"God, I have missed you," he said into her skin. She closed her eyes, determined to be the recipient of this, as Jack moved his body against hers. He allowed her to lower her arms around his neck, grasped her back with both hands, owning her with his mouth. She gasped when he broke away and held her face in his hands. "C'mon in," he whispered, touching her nose with his lips. "I've been waiting weeks for this." He reached behind her and turned the knob. Smells and sights assaulted her senses. Flashes of candlelight, a plate piled high with strawberries, a floor covered in rose petals, a bottle of champagne chilling on ice…and the spanking bench, restraints and soft leather strap hanging from the ceiling made her gulp. Jack's strong arm circled her waist, his lips tickling her ear. "Welcome." He pulled her to the giant bed, sat, pulling her onto his lap. She straddled him, her brain on fire and her body not far behind.

"Just this once Jack," her voice broke. "Then we're done. Do you understand?"

"Hmmm…we'll see about that." He pushed her up, ran his hands down her body, and then stood, burrowing into her psyche with his deep stare. He ran a finger across her lips. "Leave it to me. Deal?" She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He reached over for the champagne but bypassed it, instead taking a cube of ice and putting it against her lips. He smiled; let it trail a chilly line down her neck. She shivered, loving and hating the pleasure/pain of this, knowing it was only the beginning. "Hey!" she shuddered and jumped away when he let the cube drop down between her breasts. His grin nearly broke her in two.
Dear Lord she'd missed him too.
Something happened as she took the step between them, closing the chasm she'd created a few short months before. He grabbed her hand, brought it to his lips, sucked each finger into his mouth then pressed a kiss to her palm. She closed her eyes.

"Look at me Sara." His voice had a low grumble to it she recognized, and if she'd been wearing panties, they'd be damp at the sound of it. "I'm going to only say this once before we start. Before, our play was just that. I let you keep some control. Tonight will be different." She swallowed hard and started to speak. He put a finger over her lips.

"Shh…let me finish." He held her close, his lips close to her ear. "Tonight I'm in complete control. I will not hurt you, but I'm going to push you a little." His hand roamed down her back, cupped her ass. She gasped when he pressed into her, his need obvious, hard and urgent against the clingy, now irritating fabric of her dress. "Ready?"

She nodded and he released her, but didn't touch her again. She ran a nervous hand up her arm, started to unlatch the halter top. He put a hand on her then, nearly bringing her to her knees with lust. "Stop. Let me." He flipped it open with one hand; she let the dress drop to the floor. "Oh yes. Perfect." He cupped one breast, ran his other hand down her hip and back up. "Leave the shoes on." He took her hand and led her to the strap hanging from the ceiling. When he tugged her arms up she started to resist.

"Jack, I'm…I'm scared." Her lip trembled. An unwanted tear escaped down her cheek. "Not of this," she jerked her chin at the paraphernalia. "Of you."

He smiled, slipped out of his jacket, and without word, keeping his gaze locked on hers, pulled her arms up, fastening her wrists in the buttery soft leather. She shivered as he ran both hands down her arms, slanting his mouth over hers, possessing her with his lips and tongue. Her pussy responded, sending zings of pleasure shooting through her body. "Oh God," she gasped when he dropped to his knees in front of her, pulled one of her legs over his shoulder. "I'm, oh Jesus, Jack," she tugged at the restraint, the leather making a creaky sound tightening as she squirmed. He sucked her clit hard, making her hips buck against him. It hurt, and was, at the same time, the most exquisite feeling on the planet. Just as the room lightened around her, the climax roaring up from her core, he released her. She could hardly catch a breath, watched as he reached for a strawberry, dredged it through the cream and held it to her lips.

She opened her mouth, but he kept it out of reach. She could smell it, the heavy richness of the white coating the deep red strawberry. He grinned, popped it into his own mouth, but before she could whine he had another one, had it pressed to her lips. She bit into it, letting it drench her senses, the cream running down the side of her mouth. He leaned in and licked it from her neck, but forcing her leg down when she tried to wrap it around him.

"Nuh uh Sara. Not yet." He took the champagne bottle and took a drink right from it, held it to her lips and smiled as she gulped at it. One more strawberry followed, fat, bloated and delicious. Sara had the immediate sensation of drowning, in his eyes, his voice, wanting more than anything for him to kiss her again. "Kiss me. Please?" She whispered, licking her lips as he released his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves.

In a blink, he was at her mouth, teasing, licking, tracing the line of it with his tongue but staying out of reach. She whimpered, but he kept at it, teasing, letting his palms flit over her enervated skin, bringing every nerve ending she had to strict attention.

The room lightened again, got fuzzy around the edges.

Then he was gone once more, leaving her gasping. A blindfold covered her eyes. A rich cinnamon, gingery exotic scent filled her nose. "I know you don't like this." His voice hovered at her ear. "The blindfold. I need you to wear it. Give over to your other senses." She felt his fingertip trace her neck, across her collarbones, to one aching nipple then the other. It reached her stomach, then lower, making her groan when he reached her pulsing clit, pressing there, then even lower, filling her, stretching her body, making her shudder.

Then, as her groans filled the room, he stopped. No lips, no fingers; nothing on her. She took a deep breath; let the waxy, sweet, rich combination of smells roll through her brain. Hands gripped her hips from behind, slid up to cup her breasts. Cool metal joined them. "Oh Jesus!" she cried out as one of her nipples received the clamp. A low moan of pain escaped her lips.