Chapter 7

"Hey Timmy," Johnny murmured, slapping Jason on the shoulder when he opened the door to his room.

He tilted his head in Johnny's direction, his eyes narrowed in a glare of annoyance. He had no idea where Johnny came up with this shit. "What?"

"He's a little taken back by the fact that I've deemed him Lassie," an amused voice spoke up.

Jason turned his towards her, wondering how he failed to realize Elizabeth had been standing right in front of him.

He had no idea how he'd missed her one hip popped to the side, her slender fingers cupping those curvy sides, and those plump lips curved in a mysterious smile. Her head was tilted back, her eyebrows raised, and her eyes were heavy with fury.

Oh yeah, he was in for it.

"Excuse me?" he asked, still not following what she and Johnny had going on.

He lifted his hand to his tie, loosening it from his collar. When it fell away, he popped the top two buttons on the tuxedo shirt, then leaned against the doorway. Her eyes looked him up and down briefly, and it was evident when he caught her, that she was embarrassed.

She was after all supposed to be angry with him for wagering her in a game of blackjack, right? Though none of that made sense to Jason seeing as it was her date who actually took the offer.

"I've deemed your little lap dog friend here, Lassie," she replied, crossing her arms across her chest as she stepped towards him, her hips sashaying with every step. She stopped in front of him, pointing a single finger against his chest. "Which makes you Timmy."

His eyes snapped briefly to Johnny's and it was hard to not be amused by the scowl of contempt on his friends face.

"But don't worry, Timmy," she murmured, leaning in and causing his eyes to close with pleasure when he breathed her in.

Vanilla had never smelled so good.

"He didn't have to drag me out of the well," she continued, arching an eyebrow playfully. He would have been confused by her sudden change in demeanor had she not smelled so damn good. "I came willingly."

"With some tricks up your sleeves, I'm sure," he replied, his eyes sweeping over her face, lingering on her eyes.

She smirked, tilting her head to the side. "Of course, especially seeing as you like to gamble so much."

She gave him no time to reply, placing both her hands on his chest and pushing him inside. She glanced over her shoulder back at Johnny.

"Lassie, you don't have to stand guard tonight. I think I can take good care of Timmy," she called out, her voice low and husky.

He wasn't sure if that was more of a turn on, or if the way she slammed the door in Johnny's face, pressing her back up against her, her teething chewing on that plump lower lip beat it out.

"Well, Mr. Morgan, I hear you've been a bad boy," she said, shaking her head as she raised her hand, brushing her fingertips across her bare shoulder.

He placed a hand against the door on either side of her head. "And you aren't so innocent yourself, sweetheart."

"I guess it's safe to assume that you plan on doing something about that, right?" she asked, arching her back against the door.

Her eyes looked almost curious, but scared as if she didn't know how far she wanted to really take this. She started to press her hips against his, but he moved back, just out of reach.

"Only if you want me to," he replied, taking a deep breath as he looked away from her.

It was hard to look at her when she was in a position that any man would want to take advantage of; leaning sexily against a door, a silk dress hugging every ounce of her creamy skin just the right way, and those damn plump lips that were begging to be kissed.

"I don't think it really matters what I want," she teased, stepping towards him slowly, looking confused when he immediately stepped back.

She stared at him for a second, and he knew she was pondering her next move.

"Or maybe," she continued, stepping around him and walking towards the bed. "Maybe you're the submissive type."

His head whirled around to follow her, his eyes dipping to the way her hips swayed beneath the material of her dress.

He sucked in a breath when she came to a stop at he foot of his bed, lifting her hands to tug at the strap of her dress. It fell away instantly and she shimmied her way out of the dress until it was nothing but a crimson pool at her feet.

She was even more beautiful than he'd imagined; standing there in a strapless lacy black bra and matching underwear. Her hands roved over her creamy skin as if she weren't exactly sure what to do with them.

"Elizabeth," he murmured, his eyes roaming over her body.

"Jason," she replied, in that husky tone she'd used on Johnny.

She turned around and crawled onto the bed, her hips rolling from side to side. When she made it to the middle, she moved to face him, sitting up on her knees.

He wanted to touch her.

Even if it was just once.

"Well?" she asked breathlessly. "How-how do you want me?"

He lifted his eyes back to hers when he noticed the hesitance in her voice. The determination and sexiness was gone, replaced by shyness and perhaps even fear.

"You don't have to do this," he said, moving to the end of the bed to grab his tuxedo jacket.

He climbed onto the bed on his knees, wanting to cover her with the jacket, but she snatched it and tossed it to the floor.

"I asked how you wanted me," she repeated, leaning back on her elbows, her legs spreading just a bit.

He sighed, tipping his head back and staring at the wall space above the bed. He didn't mean for this to happen. And sure, he wanted her, but not like this.

"I think I get it now," she continued in that breathy tone, poking him in the knee with her stiletto until he looked at her.

"How about this?" she asked, the moment his eyes met hers, flipping over onto her stomach hurriedly, then moving to sit on all fours. "Was I wrong about you being submissive?"

"Elizabeth," he growled, shaking his head, unsure as to why something about this was making him feel humiliated.

"Or maybe you like those really complex positions?" she asked, turning so that she was sitting on her knees and facing him. "You want to tie me up? Gag me? Throw me around a little bit, huh, Jason?"

She sat up on her knees, sliding her hands over his shoulders as she leaned in, stopping only when her lips were just inches from his. "Or do you want to make this some sort of game?…You want me to play the dirty patient and you can be the doctor?"

She held onto his shoulders as she arched her back, tilting her head back until her eyes locked on his. He clenched his jaw, moving his hands behind his back, refusing to join in on her antics.

"Oh, Doctor Morgan," she moaned, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. "I have a problem that needs your undivided attention."

"Stop it," he hissed, grabbing her arms from his shoulders and jerking them away. He shoved her back onto the bed as he moved from the bed. He grabbed her dress, realizing just how thin the material was, and threw it at her. "And put your damn clothes on."

"I'm sorry," she murmured innocently, leaning forward so that she was on all fours again. She looked up at him, batting her eyes. "I didn't realize you had something against doctors….Maybe the schoolgirl and the big, mean teacher? I'm sure I could use a-"

"Stop fucking with me, Elizabeth!" he snapped angrily, snatching his jacket up from the floor. He held it out to her. "And I said put some fucking clothes on!"

When she made no move to take the jacket he moved around her, pulling it over her shoulders and then holding it together in the front. She smacked him away with shaky hands, but he was stronger, pulling her to her feet.

"Put this on," he demanded, prying her arms from her body in an attempt to dress her.

It was only after touching her that he could feel she was trembling. His eyes wandered over her, taking in how badly she was shaking.

She gave way somewhat, allowing him to slide the jacket over her shoulders. When he moved to button the front, the back of his hand grazing over the thin white line against her otherwise flawless skin, she shoved him away.

"Don't," she hissed, her hand covering the scar . "I can dress myself…Anyway, you're supposed to be undressing me."

"What are you doing?" he cried, holding his hands up to show he wasn't going to touch her.

"Well, forgive me," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "I thought that's what a whore was supposed to act like."

"You are not a whore," he replied, knowing at that moment just how upset she was with him.

"Oh, I thought I was bought and paid for tonight," she said, her lower lip quivering.

He could see the tears welling up in her eyes. He couldn't decide what she was more upset over; having been bartered or having ripped her clothes off in front of a stranger.

"How much did you pay him, you son of a bitch?" she asked, tightening the jacket over the front of her as if finally noticing how naked she was. "How much was a roll in the hay with Elizabeth Webber worth?"

"It wasn't like that," he replied seriously, doing his best not to look her in the face and see how badly she was hurt. "Elizabeth, I-"

"Fuck you!" she shouted, her palm striking against his cheek. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

His jaw tightened and he tightened his fists, telling himself she deserved to have this tantrum.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" she cried, placing her hands against his chest and pushing him. "Fucking men! So batted my eyes at you and shook my ass a little bit! Contrary to what you may think, women can shamelessly flirt and not want to hop into bed with a man!"

"And you sure as hell do not wager women in a poker bet, you ass-"

"What about your date?" he cut in, refusing to take the heat for this solely on his own.

That damn bastard had taken the bet.

Why couldn't she see that in way that was worse?

"He told me that the bet was your idea," she hissed, her face tightening. "You knew I was his date. Why the hell would you do that when there was a room full of women who would have gladly gone home with you tonight? And they would have come without a price!"

He shrugged, looking away guiltily, knowing there was no way he could make her understand.

At least not without hurting her more than he already had.

"So, how much was I worth?" she repeated, hands clutching her hips. "How much-"

"Maybe you should go ask your date," he cut in angrily. "Or rather your pimp because contrary to what you may think, Elizabeth, he was the one who took the fucking bet. He chose the money over you, so what the fuck does that tell you?"

Her eyes snapped to his, holding his gaze all too briefly, but long for him to know that his words hit her.

Hard.

She nodded, mostly to herself, as she sat down on the edge of the bed, clasping her hands in her lap. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and he knew that she was trying hard not to cry.

God, he had been a real bastard just then.

This was not how the evening was supposed to turn out at all.

Not even close.

"You must think I'm an idiot," she murmured, sniffling as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands.

"No," he replied, crossing the room to kneel down in front of her.

He didn't touch her and she made no move to touch him.

He just wanted her to know that he was there.

That what had happened, her whole show she'd put on the second she closed the door to his room-that it was okay.

"It's okay," she muttered, cradling her face in her hands. "I am the biggest fucking idiot."

"No," he repeated, shaking his head.

That was most definitely Lucky Spencer.

Jason contemplated calling Johnny and telling him to break his kneecaps anyway, but he realized that wouldn't make her feel any better.

That and the fact that his cell phone was in his tuxedo Jacket, which she was wearing.

"You're just being nice," she said softly as she sniffled. "Especially since I gave you a free peep show."

"You did hint at that being a possibility earlier this evening," he replied, gently brushing her hair from her face so he could see her eyes.

She grinned faintly, and he was relieved when some hint of sparkle seemed to return to those amazing blue eyes of hers.

He really needed to figure out what that color was.

"Was-Is Lucky your boyfriend?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

She shook her head, causing a few stray curls to fall back into her face. "Well, he was, but we broke up a while ago. He always said I was too cold and frigid, which he used as an excuse to sleep with other women," she admitted as if embarrassed.

Lucky's snide comments at the blackjack table suddenly made sense.

Maybe he would get a message to Johnny at some point tonight.

"I thought coming tonight would be fun…I wanted to live a lie for an evening-pretend that he wanted to be with me again…I thought I'd get dressed up and he'd think I was beautiful and maybe even want me, but-" She paused, raising her eyebrows at him. "I was very, very wrong about that."

She tightened the jacket around her, moving to button the front of it. "And just so you know," she murmured, chewing her lip nervously. "I uh, I've never had sex in a coat closet."

He grinned, almost laughing aloud at her honesty. "I've never had a quickie in a bathroom-" he stopped, still grinning. "Well, at least not with a stranger."

A slow grin spread across her face, but she turned serious seconds later. "I need to know how much."

"Does any amount make it okay?" he asked with a shrug.

"No," she replied, shrugging back at him. "But making the offer isn't any better either."

"Fair enough," he said with a nod as he moved to his feet. He held a hand out to her, relieved when she took it, and pulled her to her feet. "But if you give me a chance, maybe I can explain why I did."

"Oh, you mean it wasn't for sex?" she asked coyly, her lips turning into a playful grin.

He felt good when she smiled at him, mostly thankful she didn't appear to hold his part in it against him.

"I really just wanted that drink," he said, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand that was still in his. Her skin was so soft and warm against his. "And maybe to spend a little time with you."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Her eyes softened and she looked all too pleased with his response. "Then why me?" she asked confused. "When there's a room full of beautiful women out there, why me?"

"Well," he murmured, leaning in, "perhaps, I'll tell you, should you choose stick around for that drink and maybe another game of some kind."

Licking her lower lip, she bit into it again, and he could see her response in her eyes before she answered.

"Another game with you?" she asked, and he could tell that she was pondering what game really implied.

He nodded. "Something you can't cheat at," he murmured, causing her to laugh softly.

"Then it's only fair that you can't cheat either," she replied seriously.

"Does that mean you'll stay?" he asked, frowning when she pulled her hand out of his.

"Depends," she muttered, stepping around him and crossing the room.

"On?"

"Whether or not I get to pick the game."

And now he was left wondering what game actually implied.

He turned to follow her, finding it impossible to not look her over when she standing there all legs in front of him.

She was beautiful in ever possible way.

She picked up a game piece from the board sitting on the edge of his desk and ran her thumb over it.

"Well?" she asked, holding the piece against her face, brushing it almost absentmindedly across her lips.

He sucked in a breath. "To be honest?"

She nodded.

"You know after that whole thing before," he said, tossing his head towards the bed, noticing how her cheeks turned pink. "I'm just relieved to find out you aren't one of those odd fetish people."