Runaway ✔

031 • Dana

Juice wasn't the type of guy that could lay still for a very long time, so after a day, he was already shuffling through the clubhouse and the garage. He showed Dana around in the office and she discovered that his activities involved three things: yields from the garage, from Cara Cara and from "other cases". The last group was none of her business, and she concluded illegal matters must be involved. Something she wanted to keep herself as far away from as was possible. It was mainly the paperwork from the garage that ended up on her plate: something Gemma had taken care of before her grandson was born. Since then it had quietly landed on Juice's desk. It had piled up quite a bit, and she started to process the invoices, verify the payments and other administrative matters.

In the week that followed she was alone for the most part of the day since Juice couldn't sit for a long time. He stopped by less and less to check up on her, and ever more frequent her thoughts shot back to the evening and night she'd spent on his place. She longed for his touch, his smile, his voice.

The moments he did spend in the office, he ordered her to wait outside because he was discussing things that weren't for her ears. He always brought it up carefully and not in a commanding tone, but it was still annoying.

The uncertainty started to gnaw. Was he losing his interest in her? Had the novelty wore off, was she just a common colleague in his eyes? Though she should welcome that idea, it caused pain in her stomach.

She looked over her shoulder when the door opened again. He gave her a quick wink and flopped on the desk chair in front of his laptop. She guessed the healing of his injury went well. From the corners of her eyes, she looked at him, while his fingers raged over the keyboard, alternated by fast mouse clicks.

She felt caught when he looked up. The golden rings around his fingers shone when he motioned her to come closer.

Dana stood up, walked around the table and kept standing next to him. She looked at the screen, showing a database. He laid his hand on the side of her leg and softly pulled her closer. Dana had the feeling his fingers were melting right through the fabric of her pants. With a nervous feeling, she dropped down on his knee and his hand moved to her hip.

"We look into everyone who shows up at the garage, or one of the other projects, for the first time," he said. "The guys want you to be able to look into the database in case I'm not around, so I'll teach you how to do that."

Dana did her best to focus on his words, but she could only think about his hand on her hip. It wasn't just lying there loosely, he held her tightly.

"Why are you looking them up?" she asked, hesitantly, after she'd processed his words. "How do you know..."

"The guys will ask you specific questions. You'll be fine. As long as you know how the navigate through all the information." She felt that he was looking at her, but she kept staring at the screen. "Sometimes people try to get to the club for the wrong reasons. Since you're here, we always examine if there're connections to the place you're comin' from."

Now she did turn her head to the side, and when her neck started to hurt, she delicately shifted a little on his lap, so that she sat sideways. "Did that ever happen?"

Juice shook his head. "Nope, guess Charming was a good choice to hide."

Dana didn't know what to answer. She kept looking at him, and he held her glance. She sighed internally. His eyes were always so vivid, she could look at them all day. But preferably without her breakfast and lunch churning in her stomach. Her hands were tingling all of a sudden, her whole body was tingling. In the end, he was the one who broke their eye contact, and though his lips moved, she didn't hear his further explanation.

She was suddenly irresistibly drawn towards them, and she couldn't find a shred of energy in her body to resist them. With her thumb, she brushed his lip so that he stopped talking. Without being fully aware of it, she rotated her body, so that they were facing each other.

Juice stared at her, his eyes wide by surprise.

"Kiss me," she whispered. "Kiss me, Juice."

He didn't need a lot of encouragement. She closed her eyes when she felt the pressure of his lips against hers. They were soft but firm, a little drier than she'd expected. His hand glided to her neck, tangled up in her hair, and she pressed two kisses against his lower lip. She tilted her head a little and she just wanted to open her mouth when she heard the door open.

A rude curse rolled towards them. "Do that in your own time, Ortiz!"

Dana shoved back, and if the table hadn't been there, she would've fallen. With cheeks that must be flaming red, she looked over her shoulder.

Clay stood in the doorway, with no hint of humor on his face.

"She came here to work, not to suck your dick. Get here, idiot."

Dana quickly stood up. Juice didn't say a word. He cast her a quick, apologetic glance and rushed out of the office. Clay put a hand beneath his neck and pushed him forward, then he chuckled softly, gave her a wink, and followed Juice.

A little dazed Dana stayed behind.

Clay's banal words seemed to hover in the room.