Jo knew she would only have one chance to regain the upper hand in this situation. She was livid- the jerk had bought her what looked to be quite a stack of lingrie. It was objectifying, and if his behavior so far was any indication, what was in those boxes was going to be frilly, girly and uncomfortably sexy. But if she turned around right this second and took his head off, like she wanted to do, she'd loose what little control over him she had. He had, unwittingly, given her a trump card. She just had to figure out how to use it.
The answer came to her that night, while she lay in bed staring at the 4-foot tall stack of boxes. They towered in the corner of her bedroom, like a white reminder that she needed to figure something out. She felt guilty that instead of not sleeping over the town's impending destruction, she was pondering lingirie, but Carter would figure out the experiement. He always did. She had to decided what to do with all this. And Zane.
If she didn't address it, he'd never let it go. He'd ask if she kept them or not, and she'd have to tell him one way or the other. And asking gave him control. There wasn't a way to return them in front of him, and she needed something obvious. Something really obvious, that he couldn't ignore, couldn't smirk off, and that sent the appropriate message that she was in absolute, total control. And then it hit her.
They were alone in the sheriff's office. Carter had gone to GD to figure out why everyone was stupid, and Jo was casually keeping an eye on Zane, still locked in the cell. He seemed content for now just to watch her, which would be because she was intentionally stretching and contorting into every possible surreptitiously sexy position possible in the small office.
She'd locked the door as Carter left, but hadn't decided when to enact her plan. Sometime soon, but she was still just a tiny bit nervous. And then he gave her an opening. "You're wearing one of my presents, aren't you?" He asked with a grin as he eyed her ass.
She smiled a wicked smile at the computer monitor in front of her. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. She straightened up. "Now Donovan, what would make you think that?" She asked, in an almost sing-song voice as she turned to face him in the cell.
He looked a little surprised, but recovered quickly. "No lines," he said, gesturing to her hips.
"So," she said unbuckling her belt and placing it on the desk, "Does that mean you were looking at my ass yesterday?" She started on the top button of her uniform.
Zane started to look a little uncertain. "Um, I guess so," He answered, unable to stop watching her fingers as they worked down her shirt. "Jo, what are you doing?"
She kicked off her shoes and then slid her pants down over her hips and the lacy boy shorts he had picked out ever so slowly. "You said you wanted to see me try them on," she replied in a teasingly husky voice. Her unbuttoned shirt was next, sliding off her shoulders to revealed the matching bra that barely covered her nipples.
Zane gripped the cell bars tighter, stunned and a little afraid for his life. He had no idea why Jo was standing just a few feet away from him, almost naked, in the lingirie that he had bought mostly as a joke. Sure, he had wanted to see her in it, and had imagined her in all of it as he bought it, but he never actually thought it would come to pass. And now, here she was, fantasy come true. He wasn't dreaming, right? "Jo?" He asked again, voice hoarse and unsteady.
She stepped slowly towards the cell and pulled her hair out of its usual bun. It fell in waves around her shoulders and he swallowed hard. "See the thing is Donovan," She said as she stopped, just inches from the bars that separated them, "you guessed perfectly on the sizes. Just by looking. Which means you're pretty good at looking." She smirked at him, but he was caught trying to take in her lips and breasts and legs and all of her all at once. It was too much, even for him. He had to touch her. He reached a hand through bars and wound his fingers through her hair, cradling her cheek in his palm.
"Oh God, Jo, it looks even better on you that I had imagined," he whispered, closing his eyes and feeling her skin underneath his fingertips. He almost lost it when he felt her lips in the center of his palm.
She planted one warm, wet kiss there. When his eyes shot open, she was grinning like the devli at him. She watched his pupils dialte until she could barely see any blue, and then, satisfied that she had accomplished her goal, she stepped back and said, "No touching" in a mocking tone, gathering up her hair back into the bun.
Zane felt the loss of contact like a shock, but when he realized what she was getting dressed again, his lust dulled brain started to get angry. But as each inch of her skin got covered up, the fog cleared, and he realized exactly what she had been doing. He had to admit, it was a pretty brilliant way to get control over a jackass like himself. After that little show, he'd follow her to the ends of the earth just for the hope of a repeat.
He shoved one hand in a pocket and the other through his hair as she put her shoes back on, still smiling to herself. He finally broke down. "Am I ever going to get to see that again?"
He sounded almost plaintive, pitiful even. Jo felt a momentary pang of regret. She had been a terrible tease, and maybe he didn't quite deserve to be shut down forever. Maybe the promise of a reward could be used to induce good behavior. And if there had been a little bit of a spark when he had touched her, well, maybe that was just a happy coincidence.
She looked up to see a clearly pained expression on his face. He had figured out what she was doing, but he wanted her, that much was evident. She decided to be merciful. She stepped back to the cell bars, close enough to reach through, and he immediately met her there. She smiled at him and said, "Only if you behave."
And then she was gone, leaving him alone in the sheriff's office, with nothing but frustrated fantasies and the commandment to behave, a commandment that he had always intentionally flouted in the past. But he had a feeling that this time, he had enough of an incentive.