TIT FOR TAT

TOUCHE/CHAPTER 2

No way am I in love with Emily, he told himself, shaking his head. He finished his shot, ordered another then looked his friend in the eyes. "It's the challenge, Buck. That's all it is or ever will be...a beautiful challenge." His friend nodded his head, but Jackson knew he didn't believe him. He wasn't sure if he believed himself.

"Well, that beautiful challenge has just ordered a round of Red Headed Slut shots. Things are going to heat up."

"Oh, shit! I remember her doing that on spring break when she was in college and ended up dancing on the bar, alone with two men."

"And I remember having to call you and you whisked her off, like a knight in shining armor."

"And like a gentleman, I took her directly home to her parent's. But I didn't really know her then. I guess that's where our friendship started, but it was years later before we realized we had this damn chemistry thing going."

Buck stared at him. "That's the thing about you. You're always the gentleman...the nice guy. She always went for the bad asses, who used her and brawn instead of brains, all losers, abusive husbands. And now look at you...successful, good-looking, wealthy and you're still gazing longingly at Emily the snob like she was some goddess. Are you sorry for getting back at her?"

Jackson turned and stared as she took a shot, her head flying back exposing her long neck and he thought about that night in the playroom with her spread eagle, his hands around that throat of hers, making her beg for him, for punishment. "Not in the least." But it was so damn hard to let her go and send her away... He was getting aroused just thinking about it.

The band had started up and the women at Emily's table were up dancing with each other, thinking they were still hot shit, all except for Emily, standing with an inebriated sway against the back wall, taking it all in.

Buck elbowed him as he stood to go to the men's room. "On your way back, you ought to stop and say hi to little miss heartthrob. She's got to be watching those bitches thinking she's in the twilight zone. Besides, she keeps looking over at you. Come on, Jacks, you know you want to and you know she wants it...you know she does, if you got close enough to get back at her like you said."

On his way back to the bar, Jackson glanced in her direction again and their eyes met. He grinned and she gave a come hither smile with a little lift of her chin. What the hell, he thought and zigzagged through the tables and chairs. Once they were face to face, he realized her foot was tapping and he didn't know if she was still pissed or just going with the rhythm of the Ed Sheeran song, Shape of You. Nope, no rhythm to that tapping, it was her trademark anger tell.

"How's it goin'?" he asked gazing into incredibly stormy, narrowed, drunken gray eyes.

She reached out and touched the collar of his shirt. "Do you realize you're the only male in here who doesn't have a damn T-shirt on?" Her head tilted to the side. "I feel like I've stepped into a vacuum...a vortex to hell. What's with this? You know what it feels like?" Her words were a little slurred.

"Like high school and college."

"How do you know me so well?" she asked breathlessly.

"I just do, baby. We've been...whatever we are a long time...what is it...thirteen years now since we first realized the bond, the connection...the attraction?"

She let her fingertips wander down the front of his button-up shirt. "And I was married to that cheating bastard." Her mouth became a beguiling pout.

"Yep, you were and we came so close to...having the best sex of our lives. But you turned me away." She sighed wistfully and Jackson couldn't stop from putting his hands on the wall on either side of her face as he leaned in and gave her a tender peck on her half-opened mouth.