Rated: M

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like writing about them

Chapter Three: My T-Shirt & My Panties On

For the first time in his life he...faultered.

Exquisite. The word whispered through his mind leaving Jason quite shaken. He had seen beautiful women before. Never quite exquisite as her. Over the years he had learned to appreciate all types of beauty. Classic. Quiet. Dazzling. Physical appearence wasn't the whole of beauty. The most powerful, lasting and inspiring beauty radiated from the heart. The soul.

And this woman simply gleamed.

It was her eyes, some voice deep inside him answered. They were a confusing blend of strength and vulnerablity. Passion and innocence. Mystery, yet somehow an answer. He just needed to find the right question.

When he drew in a deep breath, thankfully hidden, the scent of violets enveloped him. In his mind's eye, he could see her dabbing perhaps a scented oil on her pulse points. Just behind her ears. At each wrist. The small hollow at her throat down between the sweet valley of her breasts. Behind her knees. The slope of her ankle. The base of her spine.

Each spots he would caress, would run his mouth across so that he could drown in the erotic mix of flowers and her feminine scent.

Before the fantasy could continue, Jason caught himself. Performing a neat bow, "Good evening, Miss Chase." Rising he handed her one of his calling cards, so that she would know he was exactly who he claimed to be. Heisei cards were next to impossible to obtain. Given only to trusted clients who had been recommended.

"Hi," she answered, with a slight wave, "Uh, would you like to come in?"

"Thank you," he nodded, stepping inside the luxurious suite at her prompting.

He watched her step back and look at him, those wondrous eyes of hers flicking nervously away, only to return again and stare. Anxious clients weren't unfamiliar territory, and it was his responsiblity to put her at ease. Unfortunately, for the life of him, all of his training and graces seemed to have remained on the other side of the door she just closed.

So they looked at each other. The moment stretched out, twisted with something sensual neither had expected. Jason watched her draw quick breaths into her lungs, her lush lips parted as if to aid. Long slender fingers trembled at her sides and a rush of heat slithered up his spine.

It was ridiculous. He had performed personal services for more than ten years. He should not be standing here like some untried youth, practically vibrating with lust. This was a job and nothing more.

Feeling very foolish, he allowed a smile to touch his lips, "My name is Jason Morgan, I am your attendant for the night."

"Attendant?" The word came out a bit choked, those eyes lighting with a wry humor that he had a feeling he would come to enjoy very much. "Is that what they're calling the oldest profession these days?"

"I am a great many things, Miss Chase, a whore is not one of them." At least not anymore.

"I didn't mean to offend you," she quickly responded but he lifted a hand in truce.

"I know."

"It's just that I'm nervous, and I have no idea what I'm doing here tonight." She rambled on as if he hadn't spoken. "My best friend Carly arranged this for me tonight. See, I just found my boyfriend in bed today with a mutual associate, the rat bastard, and I kicked him out. Carly and I went out drinking to, well make me feel better, then she pulls out this card and tells me that Heisei is exactly what I need."

"Miss Chase-"

"Now I don't know what I'm doing. Hand me a corporate portfolio and I'm in my element but inviting men into my hotel room and having sex with them? Let's just say I'm floundering waaay out of my league here."

If he allowed it, she could probably go on the entire night, he thought with an inner chuckle. Damn Arashi and his little twinges of precognition. He was right, of course. Cordelia Chase was different.

"Cordelia," he took her gesturing hands into his own, ignoring the little spark of heat from her touch and squeezed just a bit. Her voice broke off mid sentence as she stared down at their joined hands. Better to get her used to his touch now, rather than later and send her off into another spiral of nerves. "Let's sit down, yes?"

"Okay," she managed and allowed him to walk her over to the large sitting area and the deep taupe sofa that centered the room.

Easing her down onto a cushion, he straightened, "May I get you something to drink? Water perhaps?"

"You don't have to wait on me," she grimaced.

"Cordelia," he drawled and she finally graced him with a small smile. It was like a fist to the gut. Imagine if she turned the full power of that expression on him. He'd probably experience his first spontaneous orgasm. "Water, yes?"

"Yes, thank you."

Taking the moment to walk behind the small bar, he found the serving tray, a large glass pitcher and accompanying glasses and set them aside. Opening the low refridgerator, there was a liter of Evian inside which he selected and poured into the waiting pitcher. He took two linen napkins and folded them neatly and set them on the tray as well.

Her eyes followed his every movement. It was certainly in his favor that most of his clients liked to watch him, otherwise he would have been affected by the power behind her eyes.

The ritual was a simple one. Kneeling easily, he lifted a napkin from the tray, folded it into a triangle, creasing it lightly with his index finger before taking an edge and draping it gently across her lap. Next he poured her water, making sure to grasp the glass by the base so that his hands would neither warm the chilled liquid or touch the rim.

Then he lowered his head and offered.

ooXXoo

It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever witnessed.

Okay, she was more than turned on and it had nothing to do with the fact that probably the best looking specimen of masculinity was kneeling before her. She didn't even want to think about how graceful and poised he was in that gorgeous Armani suit he was wearing.

What floored her were his hands. The tranquility in his face as he did something as simple as pouring her a glass of water. It was something that he probably did for all of his clients but still, it made her feel special.

"Thank you," she murmured, taking the glass from him and drinking. No, just because he made it look pretty did not make the water taste better.

"You are most welcome, Cordelia."

After a few more calming sips, she held the glass in her lap. "I guess we should talk about what's going to happen tonight, hun?" It helped to settle the frazzled nerves in her stomach to take charge. It was how she performed best in her professional life, so she fell back on the familiar.

When he lifted those penetrating eyes to hers again, the little flutter in her stomach was stronger. "First and most importantly, you need to remember that nothing happens between us that you don't want Cordelia. Heisei isn't merely to supply someone with sex. You can find sex at the nearest street, in a corner bar, even a grocery store. My duty to you is to provide you with an escape. How you choose to pursue that is your wish."

"My wish?"

"Yes. I've clients who merely wanted another person to talk to. To listen. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to truly listen and not offer advice or try to fix a problem someone presents to you. Oft times, all that is required is the simple act of listening and acknowleging."

She was guilty of that on some occasions, had to actually think about the times she had just been there for someone without trying to put in her two cents. "And other clients?"

"Some wanted the simple act of touching. Others liked massage. And there has been sex as well."

That was honest. "So you're saying if all I wanted was someone to grip about my ex with."

"Then that's what I would be for you."

She could almost feel the heat filling her face, "And if I wanted more?"

"We will go only as far as you choose." He repeated again and for some reason she felt like she could trust that.

"I want-" she broke off, knowing she was probably the color of a tomato by now. Talking was great and maybe they'd do some of that but her body was humming. How did she tell him that she wanted more without fainting from embarrasment? "I want-"

"More?" he murmured gently and she nodded quickly grateful for his help.

She watched him draw air into his lungs, the slight flare of his nose and the answering glint in his eyes that told her he was quite pleased with her request. Was it wrong to feel arrogant that a man who made his living providing pleasure to other women was looking forward to being with her?

Carefully he removed the glass from her grip, returning it to the small tray. Turning back, he lifted a hand to her face tracing light fingers across the line of her jaw. He leaned closer and her eyes drifted shut until she felt his hand jerk. He covered it well, but given how close they were, how painfully aware she was of everything about him, she couldn't help but feel it.

"I have but one request," he told her and the regret in his voice made something painful tug in her heart.

"Yes."

"No kissing."

ooXXoo

The second he uttered the words he wished them back. Never had he shared that intimacy with a client. And here he had almost tossed all of his safeguards aside. There were clients that tugged his heart strings. He couldn't have been in this business for so long without meeting some who touched him personally. His rule was a pointed reminder that no matter how much he might come to care for these people, this was merely his job.

They went back to their lives and forgot about him until the next phone call. He wasn't a topic of dinner conversation. No one mentioned him at business functions. No one dropped by his house for a visit because they were thinking of him. He was a respite in otherwise hectic lives.

And for the first time this woman made him want more. Dangerous. Very dangerous. Perhaps this was the reason he retired. In the beginning the isolation was welcome, then he'd been in Ireland for his birthday and everything changed. The lovers, the families he'd seen, those connections, they made him realize just how empty his life was. Arashi was his best friend. His only friend. The only person he trusted to get close enough to see all of him. And suddenly the job was too much and he needed more.

It was silly to think a kiss was more intimate than some of the acts he had shared but for him a kiss was the beginning of something. A sharing of breath. A building of trust. For him, a kiss signaled a place in the heart had been claimed.

"Okay," Cordelia brought him from his inner musings. "I understand."

He could hear from the tone of her voice that she truly didn't but would accept this condition of his. It would be difficult. His mind was already pondering what she would taste like, how her supple lips would feel against his, but it was for the best.

Best for them both.

"How would you like to begin?"

"Um, we could combine the talking and maybe a massage, then move on from there?"

"If that's what you wish?" At her nod, he rose from his position before her, taking her hand to help her to her feet. Their bodies were a breath away from touching, he realized. Just one tilt forward and he could feel her against him. A heady thought. Instead, he stepped back with an incline of his head.

"Your bedroom?"

"Yes, uh, yeah, that's fine."

"Cordelia," he stopped her again, "Remember we do only what you desire."

Except for kissing, he mentally reminded himself. "It's okay, I'm still a little nervous, that's all. I'll get over it."

"Why don't you change into something more comfortable than those jeans, and I'll wait in the bedroom for you?"

ooXXoo

"Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness," Cordy rambled as she paced in front of the mirror. Change into something comfortable? Like what? The robe on the back of the door? Can't exactly give her a massage underneath mounds of terry cloth could he? It wasn't like she actually took a brief moment to think about what she was doing tonight.

No, no, she merely jumped into the taxi, leaving her truck at the bar and went straight to the hotel before she sobered up enough to change her mind. Too bad she was stone cold sober now. If she went in that bedroom and had sex with Jason Morgan, it would be with her full faculties and no excuse that she was too inebriated to know better.

And what did it say about her that a part of her was really looking forward to it. A really big part of her. Like ninety-two percent of her was ready to jump the guy and find out if what was beneath that suit looked as good as what she'd seen so far. There was seven percent that was nervous. The only man she'd had sex with for quite a while was Xander and no offense to her but Xander was NOT Jason Morgan. Then there was that one percent that was questioning her sanity.

The ninety-two was gaining on it and ready to beat it's annoying voice down.

"Comfortable," she repeated. Then looked at herself in the mirror. The jeans were gone, leaving her in a pair of black boyshorts. They were plain but sexy. Why hadn't she put on a thong? Or at least a pair of silk bikini briefs. Nope just plain old boyshorts. At least she wasn't wearing granny panties.

Rather than wear the matching plain black bra, she kept her t-shirt on. That was sexy right? The deep v gave a nice hint of cleavage. It was just short enough to reveal her stomach. The fit emphasized the fact that she wore nothing beneath, especially the fact that her taut nipples seemed to be screaming 'here I am, come and get me.'

"Thank God for Pilates!" she whispered, then bent over and shook out her hair. "It's not the 'I just had fabulous sex' look but maybe that will come later."

"Exactly what I want," she reminded herself. "I can stop at anytime."

Too bad she didn't want to stop.

Nerves forgotten for the moment, she swept open the bathroom door and goggled at the sight before her.

"Sweet jalepeno." She tried to swallow but her throat was dry as the desert. "Thank you Carly. I will personally buy you three pairs of Jimmy Choo's tomorrow." She tilted her head to the side and licked her lips, "Maybe five."

The room was dim and she could hear Celtic music playing in the background. Sounded beautiful and haunting like that music from the movie Braveheart. Yum Mel Gibson. Young Mel, not old Mel.

But Mel had nothing on the man standing in front of her.

In a pair of black boxer briefs. With the most amazing tattoo on his back.

No Cordy, she mentally admonished herself, you CANNOT do a little dance. And make sure you're not drooling. Drooling is sooo not attractive.

Would he think her perverted if she walked over and ran her tongue across those washboard abs?

When he turned around the mouth that was driving her to distraction curved into a smile. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

"No," she had more than enough alcohol this evening. She wanted to remember every second of what happened next and without the taint of a buzz. "I'm fine."

He held out a hand to her, "Come."

And her core clenched with hunger. Oh, yeah. She was looking forward to coming alright. Coming all night. Slipping her hand into his felt right, as if she had done it many times before and would do so many times again. "Is that ylang, ylang I smell?"

There was a small but obviously quite powerful candle lit on the nightstand by the bed along with a clear bottle of oil. Now, the man had on a suit, where on earth had he stashed this stuff? And were there more goodies that she could look forward to?

"Yes, along with tea tree and lavender."

"It smells wonderful."

As he helped her lay down on the bed, he told her, "Ylang ylang is a sensual oil. It helps to counter anger and frustration."

"Was certainly feeling that earlier today," and that earned her a soft chuckle of laughter. "That sounds nice."

"What?"

"When you laugh." She paused, realizing that might have been a bit more than he wanted.

"Thank you," he accepted and she relaxed. "Tea tree begins the healing process as lavender inspires passion, cleansing, and protection." He continued on after she had settled.

"You know a lot about that kind of stuff."

"Herbs and essenses help to improve mental and physical health. That's why aromatheraphy is so popular. Take chocolate for example."

She turned a flirty look over her shoulder, "Perfect example."

"Not only does chocolate release certain chemicals in the brain that stimulate the body, but sometimes the mere smell is enough to inspire the response."

"So that's why Godiva is so popular. A truffle is the food equivalent of a quickie." That inspired a rich burst of laughter that made her smile.

"You're very beautiful Cordelia."

The words came from no where, caught something inside of her and held on. She knew she was attractive, and being complimented was something she had grown accustomed to from the moment she received her first training bra. Jason probably told women they were beautiful all the time.

But just the suddeness of his words, the way his face seemed to frown for a second as if his heart had spoken before his mind had the opportunity to censor, that made the words so much more meaningful.

ooXXoo

This night was going to rip him apart.

He was trying his damnedest to treat her like just another client. And failing miserably. Cordelia was amazing. Not just beautiful, though that was enough to reach out and grab him by the throat, but intelligent. Clever. So clever, he had no problem believing that she was the President of her company.

She challenged him on levels he hadn't anticipated. Imagine debating the qualities of classic muscle cars, or the best ristorante in Tuscany to find the perfect red wine and pasta.

When she laughed, God, when she laughed it felt like he was being embraced by warmth.

And his musings were not distracting him from the silky skin beneath his fingertips. He had touched her everywhere and felt her wondrous body melt. When he had paused to remove the tight t-shirt, her quick involunatry shiver told him all he needed to know. "May I ask you a question," she moaned as his hands explored the length of her back, pausing in wonder at the tattoo at the base of her spine.

"Of course," his voice sounded thick and strained to his ears. He wanted his mouth there, his thumbs rubbed over the ink. He wanted to feel her arch with pleasure against his touch.

"Have you had men clients before?"

A brow lifted in caution. This was a touchy subject for many people. "Yes."

She graced him with a glance over her shoulder, and he reached forward to tuck a tendril behind her ear before returning his hands to her back. "Sexually?" Her voice had lowered a bit.

"Yes."

"What was it like? I'm sorry," she shook her head turning away, "Forget I asked."

Judging from the heat in her face, she wanted to know. Knudging her over she sat up at his direction. He brushed her hair away from her face and Cordelia leaned into his touch, much like a cat that enjoyed being petted. He wondered what would cause his beautiful feline to purr.

"Different than a woman," he began carefully. "Yet, the same in many ways."

She shot him a skeptical glance and he smiled again, "Desire can be enjoyable whether the hand is strong like mine, or slender as yours. As long as there is compassion and tenderness."

"Top or bottom?"

"Seme and uke," he answered honestly. She placed her hands on his chest, tracing fingers along his stomach. When she glanced up at him he was quite surprised to find her eyes filled with unexpected excitement.

"Wow," was all she said before laying back down.

Cordelia reclined on her elbows while he returned to his massage, down her long legs, to rub oil into her left foot. His eyes would occasionally focus on her mouth, or her breasts. She couldn't be oblivious to the erection that pressed against the cotton boxer briefs he wore. The atmosphere simmered with suppressed hunger as both weighed how to continue.

"Mmmm, that's a nice spot."

"Did you know there were thousands of pressure points in the foot which correspond with the human body?"

"I can believe it," she whispered, her eyes sultry with wanting, lids heavy as she followed the movement of his hands.

"Like this spot right here," he nudged gently with the knuckle of his thumb and she gasped.

"What did you-" Again, and her head fell back, all that luxurious hair fanning out in waves. "Oooh, oh god," her throaty words were sweet agony to his aroused senses. Slowly his hands moved upward, over her shapely calves back down again to slowly lower her leg to the bed.

"Jason," she panted, their intense gazes meeting as something desperate and explosive passed between them. He watched her swallow, his aching cock throbbing in answer, matching the rhythm of her harsh uneven breaths. Lowering down onto his hands, he crawled forward as she raised her knees to wrap her legs around his waist.

"Yes, Cordelia."

"More."