Authors: Liz Crowe
"He definitely knows the meaning of hard work. He used to come back every summer and handle construction jobs for his dad's company," Rob motioned for Blake to come sit by him. Sara realized he was trying to humanize the man Blake had demonized. "Talk about a ball breaking bastard," Rob chuckled. "Jack used to dread when he'd get a call from his dad. His mom was a classic Irish princess; alcoholic by the time Jack's sister was in middle school. You know Keystone Construction," Rob looked at her. "That's Jack's family."
Sara's eyes widened. Blake rolled his.
"Yeah, so Jack partied like a maniac during school but had nearly a four point oh all the way through. His dad wouldn't accept any less and, as much as he hated the old fuck, he wouldn't do anything that might displease him," Rob finished his beer. He sat back tried to pull Blake back against him. Sara smiled. She knew her brother's stubborn streak mirrored hers. He wouldn't melt that easily. Rob shrugged.
"He met Jenna in law school," Rob said, as they both ignored Blake. "What a bitch," he sighed. "Truly, I never got what he saw in her, beyond the obvious fact she was built like a fucking Penthouse pet and smart as a whip," Blake looked back at his lover and shifted back in the chair. Rob smiled and put his feet on either side of the chaise so Blake could lean back against him. Rob pulled him close, put his arms around her brother's shoulders and kissed his neck.
"Hey, finish, would ya, before you get all moony on me," she demanded, her heart racing at the thought of getting some real insight into the man who haunted her dreams.
Rob smiled and leaned back, letting Blake fall back against him. "Well, let's say she wins the prize as the one who scored Jack Gordon's whole heart, then stuffed it in a shredder before torching it. The two of them were into some pretty out-there stuff. Had gone to a bunch of BDSM parties. I went with them once." Sara raised her eyebrow at him. "It was some intense shit. It affected Jack in a big way. They'd deemed him a 'natural Master,' whatever the fuck that means. It was like he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing but, Jenna loved it. Wore some kind of crazy necklace thing she called her 'collar' declaring herself Jack's official submissive."
Sara felt her heartbeat in her ears.
"He isn't that bad really," he ran a finger down Blake's neck, across his shoulder and down his arm. "He feels deeply about women, wants to make them happy. He's gotten so good at making them that way on the surface, it's hard to get past that in his own head," Rob insisted when Blake shifted in his seat. "Every single woman he was with -- and there were plenty -- had his full, complete, undivided attention, until he found the next one. Until Jenna."
Sara finished her second beer and sat up, staring at Rob.
"He called me overseas the week of graduation, told me he'd bought her a ring and was going to ask her to marry him after their law school graduation. He had plenty of money after years being foreman on Keystone job sites." Rob sighed and ran a hand through his thick blond hair. Blake reached up and touched his cheek. "He's my friend, Blake, I'm not gonna pretend otherwise," Rob insisted. "I'm sorry I gave you the wrong impression about him," Blake reached out and took Sara's hand. "He was crazed with something. Some kind of combined buzz over trying to compete at a tough school and taking on this whole-new 'lifestyle' thing she insisted on. It nearly killed him."
She nodded, realizing this was the "ask but don't tell" moment with reference to Jack Gordon.
"Look, I'm not planning on marrying the guy," she told them. "I know him better than most at this point. I know what I'm getting is whatever he's willing to give and it's okay."
Rob grabbed her other hand and pulled her over to sit with him and Blake, putting a strong arm around her.
"I love you, just like I love your brother, Sara, and I don't want you to get hurt. Jack has the potential to be a great guy, but trust me when I say he's fully unrealized that right now. Jenna told him she had been fucking both of his roommates for the last six months, laughed at his offer of marriage, and never spoke to him again after graduation day."
He kissed the top of her head, then Blake's. "You don't live through that, after all the bullshit he had growing up at home, and emerge with your psyche intact. I was in Paris by then, at cooking school. One of our old roommates called me to say he'd had to take him to the emergency room during the night. Jack had passed out on their couch, after drinking an entire fifth of bourbon himself. He's been a different man ever since."
Jack chose that moment to buzz her with a text.
Rob touched her shoulder.
"I can't advise you to expect anything more from Jack than what's on the surface. He's spent a lot of years making himself into this guy his is now," he shrugged. "He will either be the worst, or the best, thing that will ever happen to you." He put a hand over Blake's mouth before he could speak. "You decide."
Sara looked down at her phone screen.
"Hey, what are you doing? Did you get my messages?"
She sighed and looked over at Rob and Blake. Rob had both arms around her brother's neck, and was kissing his bare shoulder. She lowered her eyes to her phone and responded.
"Yeah. Up North. With brother. He's not happy."
It took a minute before she got her response.
"Blake, right? Partners with Rob Frietag? I know that guy."
"Yep. And he has a pretty definite opinion about you."
"I'll bet he does. He and I did some collateral damage in our day."
"Really? He was into girls?"
"Oh yeah, we were quite the tag team, don't let him tell you any different."
"Wow."
"I'll bet he swings both ways now -- some things are hard to give up."
"Hmm. Makes him a good match for my brother. He's done his own fair share of female-related damage."
"Yeah babe, remind me to tell you about your brother's last girlfriend. She's a friend of mine. I wouldn't be surprised if those 2 find a nice young lady to settle down with someday -- a nice and cozy threesome. I hear that can work out quite well."
Sara didn't quite know how to respond to that. Thoughts of Jack, in love, vulnerable, hurt...she couldn't process it.
"So what lies are they telling you about me?"
"Well, let's say you are NOT their fav person at the moment."
"Whatev. I get that a lot. So about that strawberry . . ."
Nearly two weeks passed before she saw him again. Jack sent daily sexy texts, teasing, inviting but never calling or making any kind of formal invitation to meet. She had to sit on her hands, but she would not allow herself to respond. It somehow energized her, the self-control she had found, in spite of her underlying disappointment with his inability to reconnect with her.
She had convinced three of her listing clients -- including the Open House Picnic one with the view -- to lower their prices, and she felt that she'd have offers on two of them soon. Hot yoga had become part of her fitness routine -- the perfect exercise for a type-A personality as it entailed pure physical and mental torture for ninety minutes in a one-hundred-degree room.
The second week of virtual silence after having spent a lonely two hours at her most recent open house, no picnic in sight, she finally admitted feeling absolutely horny. Strange really, having gone so long without close physical contact with a man, how a few highly erotic encounters would leave her with a real taste for more. He probably planned it this way, she thought as she prepped for her weekly sales meeting, realizing that if "he" showed up at that moment, she'd rip his clothes off and fuck him where he stood. The psychological angle of him taking control, making her submit to him, made her shudder with anticipation.
Sara smiled at her reflection in the mirror. If she were completely honest with herself, she'd have to admit that the illicit nature of this thing they were doing, whatever it was, turned her on more than anything she'd experienced ever in her life. Even though she knew it was likely the entire real estate community knew about them by now since Jack was not known for his silence on the subject of women.
She sighed and brushed her hair back. The occasional twinges of wanting more from him -- visions of a future that included him -- haunted her, but she would not allow them to gain a foothold. She was an independent woman. Successful in her own right. She could cope with a purely physical relationship, as she had claimed to Blake and Rob. But something in her yearned for more. The small taste of his real self, that day at the open house, had not been enough.
Smoothing her hands over the black linen skirt, she turned sideways, admired the sunny yellow top that flared out over the waistband and allowed the slightest hint of cleavage she chosen for today. She allowed herself a small moment of satisfaction. Her latest shoe conquest: a pair of classic patent leather Jimmy Choos she'd ordered online and had spent an entire commission check to buy, graced her feet. After grabbing her to-go coffee, she headed for the car.
Small talk with Meg and a few other colleagues distracted her on her way into her weekly sales meeting. She took a seat, eating a banana without tasting it.
When she looked up from the latest crisis evolving via email on her phone her eyes clashed with a pair of dark brown ones she didn't recognize across the table. They belonged to a guy looking at her so intently it was a wonder no one noticed. She smiled, and her face got hot when he winked.
The rolled up sleeves of a soft-looking white button down shirt revealed tanned and muscular forearms. However, instead of looking frumpy and disheveled in his rumpled khakis, he looked, casual, easygoing and…well…hot. Dark blond hair brushed his collar, longer than she usually cared for in a guy, but somehow he made it work. If a central casting call had been for "Sexy California Surfer," he would have the job. She wondered if the European motorcycle she'd seen coming in that morning belonged to him and figured it did. Not usually her type, something compelled her to keep watching him. She blushed when she realized he had raised his eyebrows at her blatant stare, and looked down at her phone as an excuse to ignore him.
"Gang," Pam began. "Allow me to introduce Craig Robinson, our new downtown Stewart Realtor," she nodded at him and he waved a casual hand at the group. "He's spent a few years selling BMW cycles, and brings his A game to our little love nest here. And, if we ask real nice, he just might play the guitar for us. Now, onward -- who's got a new listing?"
The meeting proceeded as usual, new listings were described, price reductions announced, "wants and needs" enumerated. Sara ducked her head and tried not to think about her real want or need at that moment, when her phone buzzed with a text.
"Nice skirt. R U dressed underneath in a way that will please me?"
She looked up, wondering how in the hell Jack knew what she had on, all thoughts of the hot new kid across from her forgotten. The phone buzzed again.
"Don't worry. I'll find out myself."
The door to their meeting room flew open and Jack strode in, imposing, impressive, and dressed to kill in a summer-weight brown suit, blue shirt that perfectly matched his eyes. He grinned, raised one hand in a mock formal greeting to them all.
"Jack's here to pitch his new development, and invite us to an opening party, I'm sure." Pam, announced, as she glanced around at the affect his entrance had on her sales staff.
She was a no-nonsense, empathetic, and tough manager, fully in tune with the subtleties and nuances of the highly-strung professionals under her supervision. The older agents who'd been with Jack from the beginning didn't really seem fazed and smiled indulgently as if observing a precocious and slightly naughty four year old. Sara watched the rest of the women straighten up, fidget with hair, lips, unconsciously drawn by whatever the hell it was he emanated.
The other men in the room watched him, as if studying the technique of a master. Sara fought the urge to lean forward and remained lounged back, coffee cup in one hand and phone in the other. The pheromone level in the room ramped up so high she had to take long deep breaths to keep New Sara at bay.
She glanced over at Craig. He remained cocked back in his chair, ankle crossed over opposite knee, looking straight at her. Her face flushed and she glared at him briefly. He would have no idea who Jack was, of course. Or why the aura of the room had electrified since he walked in. But he'd learn soon enough. Sara smiled at him, gratified by his blush when she popped a cherry into her mouth and winked.