She wore white.
It was the color that first drew Jake's eye. She stood out like a white flower amongst a crush of black orchids. Women in this trendy nightclub seemed to always wear black, sometimes red, but always dressed to the hilt in exotic jewelry and dosed with gagging perfume. It was like a uniform that said, "I fit in. I belong to this fast, hip crowd."
Of course, Jake wore black too - a silk shirt, designer pants, Italian shoes. These days he enjoyed the illusion of fitting in, even knowing he never again would. The sense of apartness never left him, no matter how high he climbed on the ladders he'd chosen since leaving Illinois. His word was respected, possibly feared. People sought out his company. But that didn't make him belong. It only meant he had money. Lots of it.
The woman in white intrigued him. She obviously didn't mind standing out, or else didn't know better. She carried herself like a model, tall, slim, shoulders straight to maximize the striking curve of her figure. Her long, black hair was sleek and sexy, dropping well past her bare shoulders. Oh yes, Jake's sexual interest was aroused just by looking at her, he couldn't deny that, even as he felt the bile of remembered anger rise in his throat as he watched her approach, obviously seeking him out.
It had been more than six months since he'd seen his wife - correction, his ex-wife - but she was as sexy as ever, maybe even moreso. He wondered what the slut was doing here now and how she'd known where to look in the first place.
He was sitting in a booth, Jennifer at his side drinking up the attention of their circle of fast and flashy friends. Jennifer looked as sexy as she had the day he first met her, her long, blonde hair tousled around her shoulders, the dress she was wearing revealing more than it covered. She never denied Jake anything, and that's why he kept her around. That, he supposed, as well as a nagging sense of guilt for using her to get even with Heather before he'd left his old town and his failed marriage behind. Jenny had found the idea of leaving town with him exciting, and he'd been unable to kill the light of happiness in her eyes as she'd pleaded with him to come along. Now they were living together, something he could have never imagined six months ago. He suspected Jenny might care for him more than he'd originally hoped she would, considering he was unable to return the feelings. He'd always told her that he wasn't looking for another relationship, and she had always insisted she only wanted a sexual relationship. Even so, he'd been dropping subtle hints lately that it might be coming time for them to part ways. Perhaps that's why she had been flirting with every Tom, Dick and Harry to show her an ounce of interest tonight. He supposed she was trying to make him jealous, but it wasn't working. He couldn't help but hope some dashing hunk would whisk her away from him.
Heather hesitated when she saw and recognized the woman at his side, and his eyes met hers as she struggled with her own remembered pain and jealousy over the video he'd given her. He saw her steel her shoulders and step forward anyway, and when she was close enough to speak, she simply paused then took the empty seat to his left.
"Hello, Jake."
"Heather." Her eyes pleaded for more of a greeting, but what did she expect? he wondered. For him to grab her and declare how happy he was to see her? No fucking way.
Beside him, he felt Jenny shift to see who the newcomer to their group was, and when he glanced at her, he saw instantly by the shock and anger on her face that she did indeed recognize who Heather was. She'd found pictures of his ex-wife in the stuff he'd packed when they'd left Illinois.
"Another drink, Jake?" she asked, ignoring Heather's presence completely.
"Why not? Thank you," he said, dismissing her easily. He knew she'd been requesting that he be the one to get her another drink, but what could he say? She'd walked right into that one.
Jenny shot Heather a dirty look before excusing herself to go to the bar. Jake let his gaze linger on Heather's breasts, pressing tight against the silky material of her dress. She appeared to have lost some weight, but she obviously hadn't been wasting away since he'd been gone. He couldn't decide if that made him angry or glad. He only knew one thing. He still only had to look at her to get hard.
Curious, he thought. He'd wondered how he'd feel when and if he ever saw Heather again. Maybe the passage of time had helped, because he didn't feel as violently angry as he had when he'd first found her cheating on him. The anger was still there of course, but also a sense of sadness and, if he were completely honest with himself, a sense of longing too. He smiled remembering how bitterness had driven him to pick up Jennifer and make that video to get a measure of revenge. He'd felt damn guilty afterwards though. And for weeks, he'd gone into Heather's email account to see if she and Ty were still at it. He hadn't found any emails indictating that they were, but one night when he'd been drinking pretty heavy, some perverse logic mingled with the immaturity brought on from alcohol had urged him to send Ty a dirty email posing as Heather. What sense had that made? Not much, he reflected now. He supposed he'd thought it would piss off Ty when he found out Heather hadn't really sent it, and it would aggravate Heather trying to figure out who had. He had already left town by that point, but he'd had his spies in place to tell him how Heather reacted - whether she hooked up with Ty again or told him to fuck off.
He figured one of those same spies had spilled the beans on him, telling Heather where he was. But that didn't explain why she was here...or why he was secretly so damn happy to see her again.
Heather felt heat flood through her face as Jake perused her. She'd dressed to attract his attention, and apparently it had worked a little too well. His eyes locked onto hers, hard and compelling, sizzling with sexual signals. She could sense the dangerous, ruthless edge to him, the steely will of a survivor. It completely unnerved her. That and the way he even looked different from the man she had loved for so long. Maybe it was the lighting in this bawdy nightclub, but even Jake's hair seemed to be a darker shade, almost as black as her own. It used to be a soft, sandy brown, but now it matched his dark clothes. It matched his dark gaze as he surveyed her.
"Not turning coward on me, are you?" he suddenly asked.
"What?"
"You came over here. I assume you wanted to say something."
"I..." she swallowed and braced herself for a fight, not convinced that his calm, cool manner was real. "I came all the way from home to talk to you. I want to talk."
"So talk." He wasn't going to make this easy on her.
She started to say something, but the noise of the club drowned her out. Finally, she pleaded, "Please, Jake, can we go somewhere private?"
A spark of something dangerous lit up his eyes and his smile as he considered her for several seconds. With a brief nod, he reached inside his jacket and placed two one hundred dollar bills on the table, then leaned over to ask another man to see that Jennifer- was that the other woman's name?- made it home safely.
Heather's right hand was suddenly grasped and lifted as he led her behind him through the club. Outside the valet quickly retrieved a silver Porsche, a sexy sleek sports model that looked capable of devouring whatever road its owner chose to take.
"Get in," Jake told her, and she did so without giving any thought to where he planned to take her. Once inside the car, she looked at him, thirsty for the sight of his beloved features. He caught her staring and with a soft growl reached for her. His mouth covered hers, invading it with shocking swiftness, no pause for persuasion or seduction. His tongue embroiled hers in an erotic tangle, inciting a fiercely primitive response. There was nothing loving about this kiss, but Heather didn't care. She clawed her fingers up his shirt and into the thickness of his hair, pulling him deeper against her. Finally, he pulled back and started the car.
"Buckle your seatbelt," he told her in a harsh voice which did nothing to dampen the hope Heather felt rising in her chest. Jake obviously still wanted her. Even so, she could tell she was going to have a fight on her hands getting him to admit he still loved her.
"You're right," she agreed, doing as he said. "I think this is going to be a bumpy ride."
He arrived at a sleek, well-lit condiminum that left Heather momentarily bedazzled. Did Jake really have so much money now? The thought made her happy for him. He led her to an elevator that took them to the top floor. Moving inside ahead of her, he walked over to a bar in the corner, poured himself a drink and downed it in one gulp while she used the opportunity to survey her surroundings. There was absolutely no personality in his decor, which struck her as odd. Jake had helped her decorate their old home, and she knew he had good taste. The sleek navy and red furniture in this place struck her as a bit...cold. There weren't even any photos of his family anywhere. Totally unlike the man she had known and loved.
"Take off your dress."
The casual command stole Heather's breath and made her realize Jake had no plans to waste time talking. He leaned indolently against the wall beside the bar, assessing her with hot, lustful eyes. He wanted her submission, but Heather prefered to meet him as an equal.
"You take off your shirt first," she challenged. A quirky little smile gave his mouth a sensual curve as he pushed away from the wall and shrugged out of the garment.
