Naked Love

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  “Why?” I demand, and then grind through harsh words I don’t want to speak. “We both know if you can ruin Reese Summer, you will. He’ll be worth nothing to me.”

  “It might not end that way.”

  And there it is. The confirmation. They are going after him, but at least I’ve been assured I’m not leverage.

  “But it might and it doesn’t matter. I’m already talking to my publisher about another option with the prosecutor, though I hate that prick almost as much as I hate you right now.”

  He reaches into his jacket and hands me the letter from our mother. “I’ve been carrying it around. I was going to bring it by, but I keep reading the damn thing. I’m on team Cat just like Mom. And I’m not being sued. I didn’t fuck up and get involved. For the record, I don’t think Dad knew what was going on either.”

  “Reid?”

  “He says he didn’t. I’m not sure. Uncle Rudolf. He knew. He’s the root of all of this.” The elevator dings and he adds, “Team Cat.”

  I don’t reply. Gabe and I have a big wall to climb. The one my family put between me and Reese. I exit the car and I try to figure out how to tell Reese what is going on. I don’t want to put anyone in the middle. That means my column.

  * * *

  Hours later, I’m back in my pink-covered bed without Reese, writing my column. I find a case that fits perfectly. A woman accused of murder, but ultimately the uncle is now being questioned. I walk my audience through how the woman became the accused. In the end, I close simply: The uncle has yet to be charged, but I predict that that tide will turn, and he will soon be the defendant in a court case we will follow here with interest. Until tomorrow —Cat.

  The message is there. Look at my uncle, who isn’t my uncle at all, and who my mother never liked. Now I know why. He’s trouble.

  * * *

  Reese

  Day three apart…

  I start my morning at my coffee pot reading Cat’s column and I understand the message. Her uncle is trouble.

  * * *

  Cat

  Day fourteen apart…

  I am miserable, sitting in my overstuffed chair by my fireplace, with Ben and Jerry’s ice cream next to me after eating two last night while Lauren and Julie hung out here. I’m going to be buying new clothes if I keep this up and I don’t seem to care. Cherry Garcia, and my MacBook, are my friends. I love them. I need them. I worship them. Not really, but ice cream is a known substitute for sex per me, the expert, who is not having sex right now after having had the best sex of her life.

  My cellphone rings and I grab it, hopeful that it’s Reese and this is over, but it’s not. It’s his mother. I answer with a reprimand. “I told you that you can’t call. It connects me to Reese.”

  “I know,” she says. “But Reese told me he can’t talk to me right now. He has shut himself off. He’s completely focused on whatever he is doing.”

  “He’s got a lot of plates in the air to juggle.”

  “I know. Are you okay?”

  “No, but I will be when this is over. You can’t call again.”

  “I know, but he needs you. I feel it.”

  “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

  “We will never have family get-togethers with your family. Just so we’re clear. Take care, honey.” She hangs up and I grab the remote to my fireplace and turn it on high. It’s cold and I’m chilled to the bone, which could be the ice cream, or maybe it’s all about my shitty family.

  I start typing my column, which features a married couple, and a man who died saving his wife’s life only to have the family file a lawsuit against her for wrongful death. It’s an unheard of insane, first of its kind, case. My closing statement reads: What would you do for the one you love? What would you give up? This man sacrificed everything for his woman and not only did she lose the love of her life, she was tortured by his family, and this is torture. I hope they read this. I hope they can reach inside themselves and see that the pain they cause this woman doesn’t bring their family member back. It drives him deeper into his grave while the woman he loves, bleeds.

  That closing wasn’t for Reese. It was for my fucked up family, who won’t even read it and doesn’t even know how much Reese means to me. If they did, they’d make him bleed.

  * * *

  Day twenty-four apart—Thanksgiving Day…

  I retreat to the kitchen of Lauren’s busy house, leaving her and Julie, a Marilyn Monroe look-a-like who I am coming to really like, and a cluster of Walker brothers and staff that overwhelm the place. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and find the table empty. I claim a seat and set my phone on the table. It rings with my youngest brother, Daniel’s, number.

  “Hey, Cat.”

  “Hey,” I say. “Happy Turkey Day.”

  “Happy Turkey Day. How are you?”

  Considering I called him three weeks ago and told him everything about Reese, and the Maxwell family drama, we both know he’s not asking a generic question. “The same,” I say.

  “No news at all?”

  “Nothing. Are you with your girlfriend?”

  “Yes. Heading to her family outing.”

  My line beeps and the caller ID shows Gabe. “Go have fun. Gabe is calling, believe it or not.”

  “Hell froze over and on Thanksgiving. We need to mark this on the calendar. Call me if you hear anything about anything and I will you, too. Take care, sis.”

  He hangs up and I reluctantly answer Gabe’s call. “Hi Gabe.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Yeah thanks. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

  “I just wanted to tell you that you are missed today. You can still come over.”

  “I’m at a friend’s house.”

  “Right,” he says. “Okay. For the record, I love you.”

  I blanch. “You love me?”

  “This is where you say: ‘I love you, too, Gabe.’”

  “I love you, too Gabe.”

  “Good. Next time you say it first. I’m the macho guy remember?”

  “Who likes to take bubble baths.”

  “Hey. That’s a family secret. Don’t go spreading that around.”

  We laugh and I actually enjoy talking to him. We disconnect and I’m about to go back to the party when Royce appears at the table and sets a phone in front of me. “It can’t be traced. Answer it when it rings.” He nods and backs away.

  The phone rings and my heart flutters. “Hello.”

  “Cat.”

  Just hearing Reese’s voice, punches me with relief. “Is it over?”

  “No. It’s not over, but it’s close.”

  “How close?”

  “Soon is all I can say, and I don’t want to talk about this. I want to just talk to you.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Home.”

  “Home,” I repeat. “That place we used to share?” I don’t let him answer. “Who are you with?”

  “I’m alone by choice. Cat, I need to know that you haven’t found ten reasons we aren’t good for each other.”

  “Why would you even think that? I write to you in my column very day.”

  “I know. I read it the minute I wake up.”

  “Then how can you think that I’m not still with you?”

  “Because I know you and you don’t know how I’m solving this and you can’t right now. I need to keep you away from it.”

  “I don’t care what you do to end this as long as you don’t compromise who you are.”

  “I’m doing what I need to do,” he says.

  “You’re doing something you don’t want to do.”

  “I’m doing what I hope we both still want. Making sure we end up together.”

  “You’re worried that something you’re doing will push me away.”

  “Yes. I am. Only time will tell.”

  “You can’t push me away.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  “Don’t say that.”

 
; “Actually, I have to say it because if I can push you away, we weren’t real.”

  Lauren’s words, which she has repeated every time she feels like I’m shutting down, come back to me. “Everyone wants to know love is real. I told Reese the same thing.”

  “Reese—”

  “I love you,” he says. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  He hangs up.

  38

  Cat

  Four weeks apart…

  My Tuesday includes me sitting at the island of my kitchen writing a chapter of the book on Nelson Ward, while drinking insane amounts of coffee. The book is slow going as I type a few paragraphs here and start replaying that call with Reese on Thanksgiving, and how much he doubted me and us. He needs to know that we’re real. Me too, but I caution myself every time I start going down a rabbit hole of doubt, and decide he’s the one bailing. Distance creates insecurity.

  This cycle continues until nearly two o’clock when the doorman buzzes my phone. “Your brother Gabe is here.”

  Fabulous, I think. “Send him up,” I say ending the connection.

  I then consider a drink and decide against it.

  I might have ice cream.

  I pace and I don’t know why. Oh yes. I do. He is probably going to tell me some news about the legal action against our family, which means, he will hint at what is happening with Reese. I walk to the front door and Gabe knocks. I yank it open and walk away. He follows me to the kitchen and we both sit down. “Why are you here?”

  “We settled with Casey Allen. We made peace with Reese Summer. Get your book deal back.”

  “When did you settle?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Yesterday and Reese didn’t call me. He was strange on the phone. “What does peace mean?” I ask, trying not to sound as anxious as I am right now.

  “Reese got Casey Allen off with the Feds and then approached us about a truce.”

  “Did he say why he would do that?”

  “Because the publisher threatened to sue you and him,” Gabe says.

  “Oh. Yes. I know.” It’s a lie, of course. It’s not true. I’d know if it were true.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Would you care?”

  “I care Cat,” he says. “Dad cares, too. Even Reid cares. I had to pry mom’s letter from his hands. He’s slow coming around but he will. And for the record, I read it to Dad when he wouldn’t read it.”

  I lose patience. “What does truce mean? Damn it, just tell me.”

  “Uncle Rudolf was behind everything. Reese helped him plea out a deal with a massive fucking fine of seven hundred million dollars, but it’s done and no one goes to jail.”

  “The Reese Summer thing. Are you sure I can work with him without a conflict?”

  “Oh yeah. Reese made sure.”

  “What does sure mean? You’re killing me here”

  “The two law firms, ours and his, signed an agreement to work together.”

  I blanch. “Your firm and Reese’s firm?”

  “Yes. It’s not a merger but our criminal division is weak which is why Dad pushed to get you on board. But now, on a case-by-case basis Reese will represent our clients.” His phone buzzes. “Shit. I have a client freaking out over a merger. I gotta go. Go get that book deal.” He heads out of the kitchen and I puff out a breath.

  Reese aligned with my family. I don’t know what to think. Is he one of them now? No. That’s silly but he didn’t come to me last night. The ink must not be dry. That’s it. I run after Gabe and catch him at the elevator. “Have you signed the contract with Reese yet? Is it safe to contact him?”

  “Not yet. We’re meeting Friday but it’s done. We all agree.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  He steps into the elevator and I head back to my apartment. It’s not done. I have to talk to him. I don’t want him to do something bad for his firm and career, for me. I run up the stairs to my bedroom, and grab my purse when it hits me that I’m wearing sweats. I rush into my closet and do a quick change into that pink dress that I deemed “lucky” and thigh-highs with black high heels. I fluff my hair, and actually put on make-up.

  Once I’ve inspected myself in the mirror, I figure this will do. A few minutes later I’m in an Uber and pulling up to Reese’s building. I have a momentary second thought. Is my family setting me up, looking for a relationship between me and Reese? No. I rule that out. I have a book deal with Reese worth a lot of money. Of course, I’d rush here to save it. I exit the car and walk inside the building. I have never been so nervous in my life.

  Once I’m inside the elevator, I stand close to the doors, eager to get to Reese, for about a hundred reasons. Mostly, because every time I think of our phone call I think of his doubt. He has done so much to clear our path. I need to run down it and to him. I arrive on his floor and I don’t check with the receptionist. She tries to stop me when Maria appears in the lobby.

  “Oh thank God,” she says. “He’s a bear without you.”

  “Is he here?”

  “Yes,” she says walking with me toward her desk and motioning to his closed door. “Go in. He’s alone.”

  “Thanks Maria.”

  I hurry to the door and pause with my hand on the knob.

  “Don’t doubt that he loves you,” Maria says. “I promise. He does.”

  I look over my shoulder at her. “Thank you.”

  I face forward again and open the door, stepping inside and shutting it to lean against it. Reese is sitting at his desk, and he’s still gorgeous. He still consumes a room and me with it. He stands up. “Cat.”

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Neither of us take a step. “You can’t sign with my family.”

  “I already did, about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Gabe said Friday.”

  “Gabe was wrong.”

  “You don’t do things like they do.”

  “They’re reputable, Cat. They weren’t involved in this mess. Just your uncle as you told me in your column.”

  “What does this do for you or to you?”

  “I’m only offering aid and consultation. That’s all. But I’ve ensured your family will not lash out at me to get to you.”

  “You sure you’re okay with this?”

  “Yes. Are you okay with it? That’s the question and you’re not moving. You’re way over there and I’m way over here.”

  “I know.”

  “Why?”

  “I need to know this doesn’t mean you’re going to align with them not me.”

  “I still don’t like them. I’m tolerating them because that’s what a man does for his woman. Are you still my woman?”

  “Yes. Is all of this still in play in some way? Because you’re still over there and I’m over here. Do I have to leave?”

  “Why the hell would you leave? I was about to go get you.” He starts to move and I do, too, and we all but collide in the center of the room in an embrace. “I missed you,” I say. “I—”

  “I missed you, too, sweetheart.” His mouth crashes down on mine and that’s all it takes. We are all over each other, so hungry for us, that we can’t get enough. I barely remember how the skirt of my dress ends up at my waist or how his pants get unzipped. Suddenly it just is and he’s sitting on the couch in the corner, with me on top of him, him pressing inside me, filling me. I sink down on his cock, and when I have all of him, we just sit there, connected. Together.

  “Let’s a make a pact,” Reese says, tangling fingers into my hair, and dragging my mouth to his. “We don’t ever separate again. Ever Cat.”

  “Never again,” I agree, and he kisses me and we’re wild all over again, and slow again, watching each other, just savoring each other. Neither of us wants it to end but it does. Another burning need to just feel more and more of each other, sends us over the edge, until we peak and crash into one other. We lay there a full minute before I realize where we are. “We’re half naked in your office.”


  He laughs and says, “Best day I’ve had in this office.”

  I press on his shoulders and sit up. “I should get off now.”

  “Yes. You should. So that I can take you home. Our home, Cat.”

  “I want to come home. It is home. You are home.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, we walk into his apartment and I swear I can breathe again but just when I think I might run through the whole damn place, Reese scoops me up. “I can walk,” I say. “And I promise only to run to the bedroom.”

  “It’s more romantic if I do it.”

  “Romantic,” I say. “I taught you manners and romance. I love it.”

  “I hope you do.”

  “Now you’re talking in secret code.”

  He enters the bedroom and walks to the chair, our chair, and sets me down. “I missed this chair,” I say. “Good. Don’t move and don’t look.” He walks away and I’m dying. I almost turn. I might have to turn. Okay I won’t turn because he’s now covering my eyes.

  “Is that one of your ties?”

  “It is. I have a surprise.” He knots the cloth at the back of my head and places my arms on the sides of the chair. “Leave them here.”

  I do as he says and he adds, “Don’t move them, Cat.”

  Heat rushes through me and my heart starts to race. “I’ve actually never let anyone cover my eyes.”

  I feel him settle in front of me. “I plan to be the first of many things,” he says, his hands sliding up my legs, inching my skirt up my hips. “I’d undress you but I’m too impatient. Remember. Don’t move your hands.”

  “I know,” I say, but he’s moving his. He catches my panties at each side and drags them down my legs, kissing random spots on my leg as he does. He untangles them from my feet and they are gone now, but his mouth is not. His lips press tiny kisses all over me: My thigh, my calf, and my knees. His tongue travels up my inner thigh and I am panting when it finds my clit. I almost come that easily.