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Waking Up in Vegas(56)

By:Stephanie Kisner


It’s not that I was trying to be considerate, mind you–we were simply out of bacon.

She sighed and tried to pull me in for a proper liplock, but I backed away, reminding myself that I wasn’t going to settle for being temporary.

She left the bathroom door open while she showered. I guess it was supposed to be some kind of invitation, but the only RSVP she got was the smiley face I drew in the steam on the mirror before closing the door.

She was a little quieter than normal while she did her makeup and hair, and the usual massive amount of sugar in her coffee was nearly doubled as she stared at me instead of her spoon, moving from sugar bowl to mug so many times that I lost count.

She didn’t say a thing, although she looked like she was working herself up to do so.

She knew what I wanted; it was time for her to figure out what she did.



On the drive in to work, her hand did a slow slide across the console until her fingertips brushed against my ribs. I bit back a groan and decided to let it continue. For now. She played her fingers up and down my side like she owned me; when I didn’t pull away, her touch grew firmer.

I was not about to start our show with yet another boner.

When her hand skirted the waistband of my jeans, I grabbed it and rested it on the console between us.

She laced her fingers through mine and I let them stay that way.

We were by no means back to normal, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. I craved her skin any way I could get it.

But the overtures have to be hers from here on out.

And the clothing absolutely must stay on.





Chapter 16




*How You Remind Me*



The weekend loomed like a stormfront, and was about as welcome. How was I going to handle two days of uninterrupted Jensen without getting her naked and breathless underneath me?

Don’t lecture me about how much time Jen and I already spend together, alright? Saturday and Sunday don’t come with four hours of forced civility in which there is no temptation to rip her clothes off.

Although… truth be told, there’s actually a ton of temptation to get her naked and do the horizontal shimmy in the broadcast booth. But I don’t do it because I’m kind of keen on drawing a paycheck and not being homeless.

And don’t suggest I hang with my friends. They’re all attached, in one way or another, so my being the lone single guy would bring nothing but busting my chops. There’s no way in hell I could bring Jen with me, either; once she was off living her life in Phoenix, their ribbing (or God help me, sympathy) would be even worse.

It was only Thursday afternoon, but already I was wishing for a mini-coma with a wake-up timer set for Monday morning.



“You’d better call me back, you jerk. Don’t think I won’t drive back from Arizona to sue your hiney in court.” Jen hit a couple of buttons on her phone and looked like she wanted to hurl it at the wall.

I’d missed the beginning of her call while I was out lighting the grill for steaks, but it didn’t take a genius to know who she was trying to reach. “Landlord still not answering? And seriously, hiney, Jen?”

She scrunched up her face. “It won’t help my cause to tell him what I really think of his lying ass.” Her expression uncrumpled into a slow, evil smile that would have done the Grinch proud. “I’m saving that for when I have the shredded sales contract and my deposit back in my hands.”

“It’ll happen. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

She snorted. “Leg? I’ll put the bastard in a wheelchair if he tries to screw me.”

And now screwing and Jensen were in the same thought bubble.

Christ.

After dinner, when she snuggled into my side on the couch to watch a movie, I used every ounce of self-restraint to keep from pinning her to the cushions and making her forget her own name.



***



“I honestly can’t figure her the fuck out, Doc.” As loathe as I was to waste an hour with this guy, my job sort of depended on it. And, I was coming to realize, so did my sanity lately. He was the one person I could talk to about Jen; then again, he was the only one who knew. “One minute she’s saying all we have between us is lust and she deserves more than that, and the next minute she’s flirting on-air or falling asleep on the sofa, cuddled up on my shoulder.”

Dr. Cooper chuckled, kind of high-pitched and creepy. My eyes widened and I couldn’t help the double-take, concerned that he’d morphed into a geisha over there on the other side of the desk. I sent up a quick prayer that the guy never laughs in my vicinity again and wiped the horrified look off my face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, although he looked anything but. “This is normal behavior for the fairer sex. It just surprises me that–you’re what? Twenty-nine?–that you aren’t used to it by now. I forget that your longest relationship has been a three-day weekend.”