The Hang Up (First Impressions) Page 6

  He chewed the last little tiny pieces of Life Saver as the chilled flavor of wintergreen slid down his throat. Miriam’s breath was warm on the back of his hand, or was that his breath? They were so close in the darkness, still cheek to cheek. He should probably pull back, but he felt melded together with her here in the mint-tinged darkness.

  “Got any more?” Her voice was warm in his ear, her mouth so close he could feel her breath against his lips.

  “No more candy.”

  She lowered the hand holding the mirror and slid it to her back pocket. That was probably his cue to let go, but he didn’t. He kept his hand on hers, letting her guide it to the back of her jeans.

  “You’re aware that you’re grabbing my ass right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just checking.”

  He hesitated, giving her a chance to push him away, to tell him this was a bad idea. Miriam didn’t move, so he lowered his head. His lips brushed hers in the darkness, and their helmets bumped softly against each other. He tilted his head, getting the angle right, feeling her lean into him.

  “You’re aware that I’m going to kiss you now?”

  He felt her nod against him, lips light against his. “Yes.”

  “Just checking.”

  Then he did it. He started slow at first, getting acquainted with the softness of those lips, the gentle pressure of her tongue touching his. He’d never kissed anyone in a cave before, and he was struck by the contrast of it all. The coolness of the air, the heat between their bodies. The softness of her mouth, the hardness of the rock as he leaned her back against the cave wall, bracing them both with his free hand.

  She gave a soft moan and tilted her head to the side, kissing him deeper. Her hand bumped his hip in the darkness, fumbling for—what? He wasn’t sure at first, and his cock throbbed with anticipation. Her palm opened and moved over his hip and around to cup his ass. She pulled him against her to bring their bodies tight together as he deepened the kiss.

  Something about the darkness made him bolder, and he moved his hand from the back pocket of her jeans into the small of her back. Her body was lush and hot against him, despite the thick layers that separated them, but he ached to feel more of her. At the edge of her coat, his fingers found the hem of her sweater. He lingered there for a moment with his fingertips grazing the soft cashmere above her belt loop. Then he slid his hand up, tunneling under the sweater until he found bare skin.

  “Oh,” she gasped against his mouth, her breath soft and minty as her body arched against him.

  He explored her skin with the tips of his fingers, taking his time to catalog every ridge of her spine, the hollow of her waist, the deliciously abundant curves. He brushed the clasp of her bra, aching to undo it and then slide his hands around to cup her breasts as they spilled out into his palms.

  Miriam moaned again as though responding to his thoughts, and Jason let his hand slide back into that narrow dip at her waist. She was so warm, so lush, so unlike the rock-hard fitness fanatics he usually dated. Girls with chiseled bodies who ran ten-milers before breakfast and could bench-press as much as he could.

  But Miriam was soft. Soft everywhere, a delectable playground for his fingers. She was all female, a scrumptious buffet of curves and flesh that he wanted to sink into and lose himself completely. Her body moved against him, so he let his hand drift up to graze the underside of her breast.

  “Yes,” she breathed, which was all the encouragement he needed. He flicked open the clasp of her bra, pretty impressed with himself for doing it one-handed. As the bra popped open, his fingers moved beneath the underwire and freed the soft globe into his hand.

  “God, you feel good.” He moaned against her mouth as he cupped her breast in his palm. In response, she pressed her pelvis against his, grinding into the hardness that strained against the front of his jeans.

  “So do you,” she murmured, sliding against his hard-on in a way that left little question which part of him she found favorable.

  He went back to kissing her, moving from her lips along the edge of her jaw and down. She gasped as his lips grazed the hollow of her throat, and she threw her head back to—

  “Ow!”

  Her yelp of pain came at the same instant he heard the crack of plastic on rock, and Jason clutched her tighter to keep her upright.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Holy crap. I thought the helmet was supposed to protect me. I’m seeing stars.”

  He drew back, putting some distance between them without letting go of her. “From the sound of that hit, you wouldn’t be seeing much of anything right now if you weren’t wearing a helmet.” He slid his hands to her waist, testing to see if she felt unsteady on her feet. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine. A little rattled.” She cleared her throat in the darkness, and something told him she was having second thoughts about the wisdom of making out in a cave.

  Jason could relate.

  Hell, it was his fault she’d whacked her head. If he hadn’t been kissing her, this wouldn’t have happened. What was he thinking getting distracted like that? He was supposed to be taking care of her down here, not groping her like some horny teenager.

  He let go of her waist and reached for her hand instead.

  “Look, I’m really sorry—”

  “It’s fine, I’m okay,” she said. “Just—could you help me?”

  “You need a Band-Aid? I have one in my pocket, or some ibuprofen or—”

  “I’m not hurt, Jason. I just need a hand getting my bra hooked again.”

  “Oh.” He slid his hands back around her waist, trying to execute the move in the most professional, respectful manner he could muster. He should probably turn the headlamps on to make this easier, but part of him didn’t want to break the spell of intimacy. “Sorry,” he said, still fumbling with the bra clasp. “Just give me a sec.”

  “I really can dress myself, I promise. It’s just that I usually put it on with the clasp in front and wiggle it around to the back before putting my arms through, so I don’t usually hook it when it’s already on my body or when I’m wearing four layers of clothing.”

  “Huh. I guess I never really thought about how women get a bra on.”

  She laughed. “You mean you focused all your attention on learning to get the bra off?”

  “Pretty much.”

  He had it hooked again now, so he should probably stop touching her. Any second now. Okay, just one more second—

  “Look, Jason—”

  “You’re right, I know.” He slid his hands out from under her shirt and found her hands again, ready to catch her if she was still shaky on her feet. “Absolutely, this was a bad idea.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that, exactly.”

  “No?”

  “Well, not exactly. I didn’t plan to use the word ‘bad,’ anyway.”

  “But you don’t disagree with the sentiment?”

  “No,” she admitted.

  He was still reeling from the sensation of her body pressed up against his, every atom in his body screaming at him to touch her again.

  Stop it. That’s how she got hurt.

  He took another step back and let go of one of her hands so he could reach up and flick on his headlamp.

  He’d hoped the wash of light would douse his raging libido, but it had the opposite effect. The sight of her tousled and blinking in the glare of yellow light just made him want her again. She smiled up at him, her helmet adorably askew, her lips plump and luscious, and his need for her surged again.

  Then he noticed the gash on top of her helmet.

  “Wow,” he said, reaching out to touch it as a fresh wave of guilt socked him in the gut. “You really whacked it hard. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Positive,” she said, then rolled her eyes upward like she could see the top of her own head. She lifted her hand to feel the dent in her helmet, and her fingers grazed his again.

  He jumped back, feeling gu
ilty for the rush of lust, for the ding in her helmet, for the fact that he’d let himself get so distracted. Hell, how long had they been down here? What if Ellie and Henry needed to reach him? There was no phone service in the cave, and they’d been down here for an hour at least. What if something happened?

  A flash of light brought him back to the present, and to Miriam. She’d flicked on her own headlamp and stood there blinking, holding her arms around her like she was cold.

  She smiled at him and gave a little shrug. “Hey, no harm, no foul.”

  “Absolutely.” He nodded and did his best to return her smile. “We can just pretend it never happened.”

  “Good plan.” She grinned again and dropped her hands to the sides, then pulled out her gloves and tugged them back on. “Ready to head back?”

  “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin, an effort to wipe away the tingling effects of that kiss, but he only succeeded in drowning his senses with the scent of her perfume.

  As he turned away, he knew one thing for damn sure: there was no way in hell he could pretend that hadn’t happened.

  …

  Two days later, Miriam switched off the blow dryer, then wrapped the cord around the handle. She stashed it in the cupboard before nudging the door closed with her knee. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly 8:00 p.m.

  She was downstairs in her guest bath instead of in the master bath upstairs because the showerhead down here was better for rinsing out the deep-conditioning treatment she’d just done on her hair.

  Okay, that was only partly true.

  Honestly, she’d liked the idea of standing there on the same cool tiles where Jason had stood ten days ago, feeling the water sluice over her naked body as she thought about him with rivulets of water threading through the fine hairs on his chest, sliding down, down, down…

  Was that so wrong?

  “Mrow.” Phuzeei nudged his head against her bare calf, answering the question Miriam hadn’t spoken aloud.

  Miriam looked down at her pet, then bent and scooped him into her arms. She planted a kiss on his kitty forehead as she walked out of the bathroom. “What do you know, anyway?” she muttered. “You lick your own butt.”

  “Mrow,” Phuzeei replied, not arguing, but clearly not helping matters, either. He struggled to get down, never one for affection, so she set him gently on the couch and pulled her robe tighter around her. She glanced outside to where some neighborhood kids were playing Frisbee at the playground down the street, enjoying the extra hours of daylight on a summer evening. It was Monday in June, and fifty-three hours had passed since she’d talked to Jason.

  Not that she was counting.

  It was better this way. They’d agreed to keep things strictly business between them, and Miriam planned to stick with that. No good could come from locking lips with a client.

  That’s not the only reason you shouldn’t get involved with him.

  True enough. The last thing she needed was another daredevil outdoor adventurist who took risks and lived dangerously until he stopped living entirely. Hadn’t it been hard enough losing her dad?

  Phuzeei jumped onto the arm of the sofa and bumped her elbow with the top of his head, jarring Miriam back to the present.

  “It’s better this way,” she told her pet. He looked at her with disdain and nudged her with his head again.

  “Right,” Miriam said.

  She padded to the laundry room to see if her favorite Lululemon yoga pants were dry yet. She yanked open the door of the dryer, and a pink glove tumbled out onto the floor.

  Phuzeei bent down to sniff it, and Miriam picked it up. Jason’s glove. The one he’d loaned her in the cave.

  She’d wanted to wash them before returning them to him, and she’d nearly forgotten about it. Of course, she’d see him Wednesday at the First Impressions office when the Urban Trax team came to meet with them again, but what if he didn’t want anyone else to know they’d gone caving? As the new CEO of a prestigious company, it was possible he wanted to keep his personal time private.

  Miriam fished into the dryer for the other glove, weighing her options. He’d pointed out where he lived the day they first met. Blue duplex, white shutters. It wouldn’t be hard to run the gloves over, maybe tuck them in his mailbox or leave them on the doorstep with a note—

  Liar. You just want to see him again.

  True enough. Was that so wrong? At least this way she’d spare them both the awkwardness of having their business colleagues know they’d been hanging out together socially.

  His business colleagues, she amended. Holly already knew all about the cave outing and the kiss, since Miriam had told her every last detail the moment they’d returned.

  “I can’t believe he kissed you in a cave,” Holly had said.

  “I can’t believe he stopped.”

  “Well, what did you want him to do, take you from behind up against the wall of the cave?”

  Kinda…

  Before she realized she’d made up her mind, Miriam had her clothes on and her makeup done to perfection. Nothing too dramatic—a little mascara, some blush, a hint of lipstick. She wore a pale yellow cotton sundress chosen to look like she’d thrown it on haphazardly after work instead of standing in her closet for twenty minutes trying to choose just the right thing. With a light spritz of perfume, she picked up the gloves and headed toward the door.

  “Be back in just a second,” she said to Phuzeei as she scooped up the bottle of red wine she’d chosen from her well-appointed wine rack. “But don’t wait up just in case.”

  She walked more quickly than usual, her sandal-clad feet easily covering the two blocks from her house to the blue duplex he’d pointed out earlier. She hesitated on the doorstep, realizing she didn’t actually know which place was his. The doors were identical, but the one on the right had a tiny bronze nameplate on it. Miriam squinted at the letters, trying to make out the word.

  Sanders. Yep, this was definitely his place. She’d just lifted her hand to knock when the door flew open.

  A slender blond woman with her hair in a ponytail stared back at Miriam. She pushed wispy bangs off her forehead, revealing an enviable pair of blue eyes that looked stunning without a trace of makeup.

  Miriam resisted the urge to want to gouge out those eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered, glancing at the nameplate again. “I was looking for Jason Sanders, but I must have the wrong—”

  “I’m Ellie,” the blonde said, and offered a friendly smile that made Miriam regret thinking evil thoughts about her eyes. “Jason just ducked out for a sec, but can I help you with something?”

  “Ellie,” she repeated, trying to make sense of things. Had he mentioned a roommate?

  The woman smiled and leaned against the doorframe, giving Miriam a glimpse of the framed photo on the wall behind her. It was an image of Jason and Ellie perched side by side on matching mountain bikes on the edge of a canyon. Before Miriam could peer closer to see if they were holding hands or striking a friends-only pose, Ellie shifted again.

  “He’ll be right back,” Ellie said. “He just ran to the grocery store to grab me some tampons and baby aspirin, but he shouldn’t be more than five more minutes.”

  Tampons? Baby aspirin? A faint buzz started in Miriam’s ears, filling her whole brain with a chorus of self-doubt and dread.

  But that crescendo was nothing compared with the sound she heard next.

  “Mommy! Who’s there?”

  Miriam felt her gut hit the floor. She looked down to see a little blond boy with pale blue eyes magnified by plastic-rimmed glasses and a dimple that matched Jason’s.

  Holy shit.

  Miriam took a step back, feeling like an idiot. For crying out loud, the guy had a wife and a kid. She’d locked lips with a married man.

  Before Ellie or Miriam could respond to the kid’s question, the tyke grinned up at her and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his freckled nose. “I have a penis but mommy has a fa-c
hyna,” he announced.

  Miriam took another step back, nearly falling off the front step in the process. “Um—yes. Yes. I’m sure she does.”

  She tried not to look at Ellie, not wanting to consider the fact that Jason was clearly quite familiar with the other woman’s fa-chyna, if his son was any indication.

  How could you be so stupid?

  “I should go—” Miriam said, but Ellie cut her off.

  “Oh, awesome—you brought my gloves back.” She pointed at Miriam’s hand, and Miriam looked down at them, trying to think of an excuse for having Jason’s wife’s gloves.

  “Right,” she said, and handed them over. “I was just—washing them.”

  Ellie looked at her oddly but didn’t question the likelihood that Jason might have hired someone to wash a pair of stretchy pink Dollar Store gloves. Miriam tried to think of something else to say, but her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.

  Seemingly unperturbed, Ellie set the gloves on an end table and gestured toward her living room. “You’re welcome to come on in and wait for Jase,” she said. “He shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. I’m sorry, how did you say you know him?”

  With a start, Miriam realized she hadn’t said a word about why she’d come, but work seemed like a good enough cover. It was true, pretty much. Hadn’t they agreed to keep things strictly business?

  Never mind that kiss.

  “Right,” she said, finding her voice at last. “I’m—um—Miriam. I work with Jason.”

  Work. Is that what he’d been doing with his hand up Miriam’s shirt while his wife and kid waited at home for him?

  “Ahhh,” Ellie said, looking Miriam up and down with an expression Miriam couldn’t quite read. Was the other woman suspicious? Maybe Jason had a history of extramarital dalliances.

  Miriam cleared her throat. “I was just dropping those off, but I’d better run.”

  “Is the wine for him, too?”

  Miriam looked down at the bottle tucked beneath her own arm. Under the circumstances, it seemed like a much too intimate gift. “Oh—uh—this isn’t for Jason. I was just out for a walk and thought I’d—”