Sweat Equity (6 page)

"Look Jack, you are a smart guy. Successful, but Sara isn't a walk in the park. I know. I know her brother pretty well." Jack grinned when his friend's creamy porcelain skin flushed bright red. He put a hand under her chin.

"God you're cute when you blush red as a lobster." She jerked her face away from him.

"Fuck you. Now listen. Seriously, Blake is hyper-protective of her, I know, but he does want her to be happy. Maybe you should talk to him?"

"Right. The guy would just as soon chop me in half with his fucking black-belt Kung Fu grip. He scares the living shit out of me." Suzanne sipped and looked away from him. "Sorry babe. I know it's tough for you." He watched her swallow and blink fast.

Jesus, way to go Gordon. Make your one friend mad.

"No, no, it's fine. I just can't get past the God damned irony of you, in love with Blake Thornton's sister. Jesus. Seriously."

He pulled his friend to her feet and gathered her in for a hug. She sighed and leaned into his chest. "You might want to check your Facebook page." He groaned.

"I hate that shit. Talk about a necessary evil."

"Yeah, well a few of your pretty new friends from last night probably have you posted on their walls, complete with tags."

"Great. In the meantime, thanks for letting me pass out here. Some other time I'll admit that I have no memory of getting here. Humor me and tell me how fucking fabulous I was for you." She pushed him away.

"Yeah, right. That's past us, dude, remember? Now, get the hell out of here and get Sara back. Or I will kill you."

****

Sara's skin pebbled in the cool air. The ropes made a pleasant creaking sound and felt solid against her wrists. She'd accepted how much enjoyment she got from being bound, but Jack had gone slowly. Trust was still such a tough thing for them both to breach. When the room went dark, the soft whisper of silk tied behind her head, she tried not to let her teeth chatter.

"Shh, my Sara. All is well." Jack's deep voice rumbled in her ear. His lips caressed her check, neck, fluttered over her lips. She didn't respond. Knew she wasn't supposed to, not yet. His hands trailed down her skin, bushed over her erect nipples, across her stomach and hips all the way down to her calves. "I've got you. You know I've got you." She nodded, moisture slicking the top of her thighs as he continued to caress, tease and massage her entire body. She never knew where his hands would land next. She loved it.

As his fingers grazed her clit, trailed down her lips, dipping in and out enough to make her squirm and her skin flush with inner heat, she bit down on the urge to thrust her hips into his hand. "Mmm hmm, lovely." His fingers entered her, slow, spreading her walls, reaching up to tease the g-spot he'd discovered and used to his advantage.

"Ahh…" She couldn't help it. The fingers stopped. All was quiet. She knew he'd left the room. He'd done it before. His lips reappeared at her breast, sucking hard on her nipple then roaming upwards to her neck, jaw, and then her mouth. Dear God the man was a class-A kisser. She sighed into his mouth, letting him work his magic, the creaking of the ropes a musical compliment to the soft sounds they made between them. Then, he was gone again.

Sara shifted, knowing he'd be back. After what felt like an hour, she took a chance. "Jack?" Silence descended. Her feet were freezing, and her shoulders had started to ache.

Where in the hell was he?

Strange sounds started trickling in, Feminine noises, but not from her. Shuffling, moaning, Jack's voice raised but unintelligible. Then the absolutely, unmistakable sound of a woman in the throes of a monster climax worthy of a porn movie. Sara gritted her teeth. "Jack?" The ropes burned her wrists; claustrophobia hovered on her horizon. "Get this blindfold off me! Where are you?"

Then, blinding light as the cover was ripped from her eyes. A tall, sultry brunette stood over her, eyes gleaming, hands on her hips as she surveyed Sara's prone and vulnerable position. "Nice work honey. Thanks for waiting your turn."

Sara squirmed. "Where's Jack?"

"Didn't you know? He can't be trusted. Don't even try Sara. Don't even try." Then the woman was gone, and Sara saw her, wrapped around the tall frame of the man she had loved once, had trusted, once. The sound of her own scream woke her up.

She sat, clutched blankets to her mouth, her wrists on fire with residual rope burn from a few weeks ago. Her left ring finger was empty. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she flopped back on her pillows.

Oh yeah. She'd given it back to him.

This weekend she had to face him again in front of everyone at the Stewart Realty Company Picnic.

Wonder if faking a case of Ebola would suffice for an excuse?
She sighed and climbed out of bed.

After a scorching hot shower, take-out coffee and a deep breath, she entered her office, slipping in the back so she wouldn't have to face the inevitable gaggle of colleagues at the front. She fired up her computer stared at the screen. It glowed, sharing more than she wanted to know. Stupid Facebook. She should have known better. She'd spent two days hiding out, gathering her mental and emotional resources together so she could face the office, ready to admit that she'd failed
to hang onto the hottest bachelor in the tri-state area
. Then she would avoid
all conversation
s
with anyone about their ruined relationship for a few weeks.

Her scalp tingled as she clicked through a series of photos posted to Jack's wall, in various stages of mouth fucking a couple of girls who, if they were twenty-one, Sara would be the god damned Queen of England. She sighed and noted the date.

The same as the
night she'd given him his ring back
. Perfect.

"Now do you see? This was the right thing to do Sara. You don't want to live our mother's life, remember?"
She could practically hear her brother's voice. The ever-present, hugely annoying tears spilled over again.

"Hey Sara!" Craig dropped into the chair by her desk. She tore her eyes away from the searing images on the computer screen to acknowledge him. They hadn't spoken much in the last few months, not since their near close encounter just before Jack's big proposal.

"Hey yourself. What's up?" He put his hands behind his head. Sara allowed herself a very brief moment of admiration then snapped back to the present. She would not be distracted, especially not by this guy. That was the last thing she needed. The distinct memory of his full lips on hers, all those months ago, floated through her brain. She forced herself to focus on his words.

"My band is playing tonight. Here in town. We could use a few warm bodies," he raised an eyebrow at her.

She grinned in spite of herself. A night out. There was a pleasant thought. She hadn't had one in nearly a month. It had taken two weeks for Jack to get the loud and that she had no desire to talk to him, to make up, to make out, or of any of the above. It had nearly ripped her guts out, but had to be done. She swallowed against the image of Jack's face. It would never fade it seemed.

He'd obviously moved on, of course as the company gossip machine had cranked up, to the max. Heather, the long tall exotic drink of water who'd had her claws in him before he'd bought Sara the ring, was back in the picture with a vengeance.

"Um, hey..." Craig leaned in and gripped her hands. Sara realized she had a death grip on her knees and he her eyes closed. "Sara. Let it go." She sucked in a long breath.

"Yeah. Sorry."

He released her hands.

 "So, about that show?" His voice had deepened.

She smiled at him. His handsome face lit up as he brushed his always too long hair from his face. She needed this. A friend. She nodded. "Sure. I'll be there."

"Good." He stood, then to her utter shock he leaned in, brushed her lips with his and whispered. "I've missed you." By the time he walked away, whistling, hands in his wrinkled khakis she acknowledged that maybe, just maybe she'd survive this.

Chapter Six

Greg and Jennifer Stewart were the second generation to run the most successful independently owned residential real estate brokerage in the area. They had grown the company far beyond what his parents had started, and treated their employees and agents well. Formal Christmas parties, always at a different venue, and the "Party at The Farm" held every September, marking the end of the craziest and busiest season, were annual events. Sara pulled up to the massive compound, found a parking spot and sat, trying to catch her breath at the thought of being around Jack again.

They'd been promised "entertainment" and instructed everyone to come dressed to "play games." The invitations had said each employee was going to be paired with someone else; either another agent or a spouse/significant-other, and the Stewart Olympics would commence at six p.m. sharp.

Sara had invited Blake to come with her. But he'd backed out at the last minute to tend bar when one of his employees failed to show up for work. He had kissed her forehead, given her a hard squeeze, and pep talk when she stopped by the pub and had gotten the bad news. Noting that he seemed calmer, and that things between him and Rob had settled, she'd shrugged and left.

 She parked her car among all the other high-priced automobiles, and took note that neither Jack's Stingray nor his new Escalade was anywhere to be seen. She pulled her contribution of homemade chocolate chip cookies out of the trunk and walked towards her colleagues and friends who all greeted her warmly. Val ran up to her with an ice-cold beer.

"Here babe, drink this now" she insisted, before guiding her towards the food tables.

Sara laughed over her shoulder at various friends "warming up" up for the amateur Olympics by chugging beers. Recalling the last time she'd been at The Farm, she was grateful for the Stewart's strict "no drinking and driving" policy and for the large house they equipped to handle the many folks who'd be sleeping over tonight.

She turned to Greg Stewart to hug him and thank him for hosting another fun event for them and immediately spotted Jack over his shoulder. He sat on a blanket under one of the hundred-year-old trees with Heather, feeding her a strawberry. Her body stiffened and Greg pulled her closer, whispering in her ear as he led her away.

 "Of all my agents, you were the last one I thought would go down this road."

She allowed Greg to pass her off to Jennifer, who put her arm around Sara's shoulders and announced that as the month's top producer, Sara would be the one to match up the teams. Val and her office manager, Pam, stepped up to record the couples, which kept Jack out of Sara's line of vision.

She reached in repeatedly, calling out names of oddball pairings, before finally pulling out her own name. She grabbed one more slip of paper, not really thinking much as the quickly consumed beer and residual shock of seeing Jack with Heather had made her head spin.

She unfolded the piece of paper: "Jack Gordon," and heard a collective gasp. She shrugged and rolled her eyes, bringing nervous laughter from the crowd. Everybody knew their story by now. No use pretending.

Glancing up she caught Craig's deep brown gaze, completely focused on her. She allowed herself a moment to look back at him before breaking eye contact.

"Sara," Jack nodded at her as they stood together to listen to the rules and regs.

"Jack," she responded, as coolly as she could manage. Her entire body hummed with familiar energy, but she held it at bay, let the anger focus her.

They performed the necessary egg-and-spoon trial, three-legged race, and wheelbarrow relays. The fireman carry provided a little diversion and Sara knew he used it as an excuse to hold onto her a little longer than was completely necessary. When they reached the final events, Sara and Jack were well ahead of every other team. She had another beer at one point, which loosened her up and allowed her to enjoy his closeness and the heat of his skin. She caught him staring at her, his eyes squinting as if trying to figure her out, as she won the hula-hoop contest on behalf of their team.

The final two events involved food and only included the top five remaining teams. Sara and the other four women, each given apples, were told to hold it in their mouth while their partners ate as fast as they could for twenty seconds. The team with the most-eaten apple would be the winner.

 Sara sighed, put the apple between her teeth and turned to Jack, who immediately placed both hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him, his legs slightly bent, his head tilted. She closed her eyes until she heard the hoots and whistles of the crowd. She snapped them open and caught Val's wide-open eyes and shaking head over Jack's lowered shoulder.

In spite of herself, she let her body respond, taking no small satisfaction in the fact that he turned her around so that his back faced the crowd to hide his tented shorts. The crowd continued to catcall, egging him on, as the timer dinged. They broke away from each other, the electricity snapping between them, a completely cored apple in her hand and juice dripping down their chins. Jack wiped his off, not taking his eyes from her, before reaching out to raise her hand over their heads in triumph. The crowd erupted with cheers.