Naked Love

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  “Shannon, you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

  That was probably accurate.

  “Yeah, I do.” I wasn’t giving up that easily. “Your business is struggling, and the last thing you need is a bunch of startup costs. I just got out of a three-year relationship. I pushed everything about myself aside to make it work. When it was my turn to step into the spotlight, he chickened out and left. I need to learn who I am again, Zach. And I want you to be the one who shows me.”

  “The other night, you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.” The words he didn’t say resonated the loudest—and neither am I.

  “I’m not.”

  He whistled low. “I need to think about this.” He rose from the chair and held out his hand.

  In my shock, I wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Shake on it?

  I put my hand in his, and he pulled me off the couch. I trapped the laptop between us with my other hand before it had a chance to crash on the floor. I set it down on the cushion, gripping him for balance. I was numb from the waist down. It was an improvement. For almost three years, I’d been numb all over.

  He cupped my chin and kissed me. There was nothing soft or unsure about it. Words seemed to frustrate Zach, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t express himself with his mouth. He meant to show me what he had in store for me if we went forward with my proposal. If his plan was to send me running, I had news for him. I was all in.

  My hands were trapped between us, and I wriggled free, confident I wouldn’t fall. But I grasped his shoulders for good measure and moaned against his lips at the way his hard muscles tensed under my touch.

  Zach wouldn’t go down without a fight. He wrapped his hand around my ponytail and tugged. I opened my eyes and found him grinning. “Every time you wrap your hair around your hand, all I can think about is how much I want to do that,” he said. So much for him keeping things professional.

  “Satisfied?” It took everything I had not to do it now, to see if he’d kiss me again.

  “Not even close.” He tightened his grip on it before he let go. “Is that what you really want, Shannon? Think about it.” He picked up his bag and left.

  As soon as he was out of sight, I collapsed on the couch. What the hell was wrong with me? I just asked Zach to have sex with me, he tried to talk me out of it, and then said he had to think about it? Better yet, that I had to think about it? I buried my face in my hands. I had no business helping him with his website. I couldn’t even sell myself.

  And that kiss—holy shit. That was what I wanted. I shivered as the first signs of withdrawal racked my body. When my ex kissed me, it was nice, but nothing like that. Zach’s kiss was the real fucking deal. It spun sin with spirituality and blurred the line between what I wanted and what I should never have.

  “Are you okay?”

  I jumped when Jagger put his hand on my shoulder.

  “You’re not crying, are you?” he asked.

  Oh man, I hoped not. I wiped under my eyes and was relieved when my fingers stayed dry. “I’m good,” I said. Zach left me intoxicated, and the hangover was going to be a bitch.

  Jagger knit his eyebrows together, not buying it. “How’d your meeting with Zach go?”

  “Great,” I squeaked. Another word that didn’t come close to describing the situation. “We’ve got a game plan for the website. He’s probably going to ask you to take some headshots.”

  “Cool.” Jagger sat beside me. I was glad he didn’t touch me again. My nerve endings were raw and electrified, and there was no guarantee I wouldn’t shock him. “Promise me something. Zach’s my best friend, but be careful around him. He’ll twist things around, to get what he wants. He’s an opportunist.”

  So am I, Jagger. So am I.

  * * *

  I stood in the middle of Claire’s empty living room. “It looks so much better in here when it’s not pink.” My MO was to pretend I hadn’t made a massive mistake, asking Zach for that trade. Business as usual, like it never happened. I had to turn my focus back to the reason I was here. No more distractions.

  “Right? I never thought I’d be painting rooms white again. Or having people do it for me.” Leah had no business around paint fumes. “It looks like a hospital now, but once we get the furniture in here, it will be amazing.”

  Sheer white curtains framed a wall of windows that overlooked a massive pool. The shallow end was like a beach, complete with sand. All I could think about was running into the ocean with Zach, on my not-date with him. If he was still thinking about my offer. That was why I threw myself into work—to stop thinking about it. It took the edge off being unfuckable.

  “Does Claire ever entertain here?” The words flew out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. Zach was on his own if he wanted to expand his business. In a wine-induced rage last night, I drew up an invoice. Twice my usual rate. If I sent it, my original offer was null and void.

  “She’s mentioned it. Jagger said she used to throw some pretty epic parties here.” Leah rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask for details. It’s awkward enough that I’m dipping into his former client list to start my business. Sometimes Claire tries to talk to me about the good old days, and I want to toss my cookies.”

  I laughed. “At least you can blame it on the baby.”

  “Why did you ask about parties?” Leah pulled her phone out of her pocket and shook her head. “If the delivery guys don’t show up on time, I’m going out to find them.”

  “Zach’s looking to kick-start the agency. I suggested he do something like First Friday, but with sex.” It wasn’t a secret that I was working with him, only that he defaulted on his payment.

  “Like a meet and greet for the escorts?” Leah asked.

  I nodded.

  “You’d have to be really careful about who you invited to that. One wrong move, and it would ruin him.”

  “It’s just an idea. It probably won’t work.” Because our work together was done. “But since this place is huge, and Claire’s a part of that world…”

  “Her friends used the old agency, and we know they’re bored. Which has been working in our favor, since they’re waiting for us to be done with her place so we can work with them. It’s in our best interest to keep them happy.”

  The doorbell rang. Our delivery had finally arrived, and for the rest of the day, I was far too busy to think about Zach hosting an orgy in the room I decorated. Except it was all I could think about.

  Leah had chosen a soft, pastel palette with gold accents. The pinks were lush, like his lips, and the brass fiery, like the emotions that crashed inside me. Even a week later, they were tipped with anger, like the giant abstract piece we hung on the wall. It was a woman’s bare body, but it looked like the artist had flicked paint at the canvas. It was far from perfect, but it was quite possibly the most compelling piece of art I’d ever been so up close and personal with. Every splatter had a purpose.

  Leah came up behind me. “Draws you in, doesn’t it? I knew Claire would go crazy for it the minute I saw it.”

  “I shouldn’t like it at all.” But I was lost in it. “Why does it work?”

  Leah ran her fingers over the edge of the canvas. “Because each element on its own isn’t attractive. But when they’re put together, they create something bigger than the sum of their parts. I spent a long time thinking about this painting. Women are taught to be ashamed of their bodies, but when they break free of that, they have a chance to realize how beautiful they really are.”

  The painting completed the living room in more ways than one. We spent the rest of the day cleaning up boxes and adjusting accessories. I glanced up at the painting between tasks, and I swear it got larger every time. I wished I could have the artwork tattooed on me. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, but I was aware of my shortcomings. I desperately wanted to break free. With every attempt, I fell flat on my face.

  Leah waved her hand in front of her face. “I never sweat this much when I was pregnant wi
th Raven.”

  “You weren’t in Miami, either,” I reminded her.

  “Good point. I’m headed back to the gallery, to store the little stuff we didn’t use today. Want to come with me?”

  “Sounds good.” When we were done, I’d let myself get lost in Wynwood—let the art and the rhythm swallow me until I felt whole again.

  She stopped me on the way out the door. “Good job today. Are you happy with what we did?”

  “Yeah.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

  “Do you mean am I happy in general?” I asked. Leah had a lousy poker face, which I loved about her. But my poker face sucked, too.

  “You don’t seem like your usual self, going a hundred miles an hour.” She grasped my arm. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  “Oh hell no. Unless it’s contagious. Otherwise it’s impossible. So yeah, I’m struggling.” It was hard to admit; the last time I bared a piece of myself, it was pushed back in my face. “I didn’t think Miami would be such a big transition. I’ve lived in a lot of places, but I haven’t found my groove here yet.”

  “You should take some time off.” She held up her hand. “With pay. It’s hard. I felt the same way when I got here, and I had Jagger. You’re in that hostel place—”

  “It’s long-term temporary housing.” But people were constantly coming and going.

  She hugged me. “Whatever. It’s not home. We need to make Miami your home.”

  9

  Zach

  Everything was cyclical. Claire introduced me to Barry, another lifetime ago. I was a club kid, couch surfing, crashing anywhere anyone would take me, and paying in any currency accepted. My body became a quick favorite. Which was fine by me, because I had more than enough to give. Life was fucking easy. People gave me whatever I wanted because I had sex with them. Until I wanted more than they could give. Then I had to figure out a way to make it work.

  I knew damn well Claire would be down for a party at her house, even if we went all the way, like Shannon suggested, and had an orgy. That was how I met her.

  And I couldn’t stop thinking of her. Not Claire, Shannon. She was a paradox, hiding from the world and hoping to get caught. Shutting herself down and then offering her body as collateral.

  Who the hell did she think she was? Me?

  That was it. Looking at her was like looking in a mirror—much prettier than me, of course. Always hoping to please someone else.

  Most women teased, inch by inch, giving me a chance to get closer. It wasn’t everything all at once, unless they paid for it. That was what Shannon asked for. To be a client. No relationship. Just sex.

  She was asking for something she couldn’t have. Like hell Shannon could put her feelings aside and treat sex like a business transaction with ice water flowing through her veins. She gave too much of herself at every turn. Even if she could, we were hopelessly entwined through Leah and Jagger. If I declined her offer and gave her every cent I had in exchange for the work she put in on my business, I still had to see her again. We were both in the wedding, and we’d be held hostage on some remote Key everyone but Jagger had forgotten about. On Christmas. What a fucking nightmare.

  Whether I took her up on her offer of trading services or not, the feelings she made swirl inside me wouldn’t fade. They’d intensify. Become something dangerous and destructive. Either way, we were going down with the ship. No need to let those feeling go to waste.

  “It’s open,” I yelled when Brandon knocked on the door.

  “Hey, man.” He sat on the couch, elbows on knees. The dark smudges under his eyes didn’t erase the shit-eating grin from his face. I envied the bastard. He came to report on his first assignment, but he had yet to pay the price. “Last night was amazing,” he said.

  “Popped your cherry, huh? Tell me all about it.” I hadn’t had sex in… Fuck. This was the longest I ever went without, since I dropped out of high school and started partying. Taking care of the business on my own didn’t do a thing for me. I needed an element of surprise to get off. I didn’t fear the unknown; I embraced it.

  “She had me blindfold her and gag her. And she likes it rough.” His eyes were wide and he licked his lips. The client had been one of my regulars, and I convinced her to give Brandon a try. It was as important that he had a good first time as that she had a good night. “It was intense. Like I was doing something wrong, something she didn’t want.”

  “I gave you her safe word, right? And her signal?” Fuck, I would’ve never forgotten a detail like that.

  “You did. She didn’t need it.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and then a flush spread over his face. “It was so hot. I lost track of time, though. By the time I caught my breath, I’d gone two hours over.”

  I opened his file on my laptop. “Two hours?”

  “Yeah.” He furrowed his brow. “You don’t have to charge her for it. It’s my fault. I should’ve paid more attention.”

  “You should have, but it’s better than watching the clock, wishing the night would end.” I’d had plenty of those assignments. “She expects it. She’s a long-time client, and she’s got that effect on people. But you should never work without pay. The clients want to pay you—remember that.”

  He nodded. “I can use the money.”

  “Tell me about it.” I hoped she’d be calling for more. She had friends who used Barry’s agency, and if she was happy, it bode well for us. “So you’re on board? Can you do it every weekend?”

  It took him a minute to answer. “I think so.”

  “Don’t get attached to them. Romantically. It’s okay if you become friends. That’s unavoidable.” Even with the ones who didn’t like to talk. The one Brandon spent last night with surprised me one night, when that was all she wanted to do. I’d never been so horny in my life. “But it can’t be more than that.”

  Brandon laughed. “You’ve got a lot of rules. It all makes sense, though.”

  “It’s for your own protection, as well as the clients’. Sometimes they think it’s a relationship. That’s when it gets hard. When you have to either play into it or break it off. Either way, they get hurt.”

  “Got it.” Brandon got up, offering his hand to me. “Thanks a lot for the opportunity. I can’t tell you how much I needed this. See you soon.”

  Brandon had showed up at exactly the right time. He had a way of setting the room on fire. I had to keep this guy busy. He was a diamond in the rough, and he injected some much-needed hope into the agency. Only one other person got the same look in their eyes when I talked about the business.

  Shannon.

  I owed her an explanation. She was fresh out of a shitty situation and desperate to believe in herself again. She poured herself into everyone else’s project, and when she asked for something in return, I couldn’t give her what she’d given me.

  In a perfect world, I’d give her the money, and we’d put this behind us. But my life was a fucked-up place, and I had something more valuable than money to give her.

  I made my decision, but I wanted to talk to Jag before I acted on it. He had a stake in this.

  I missed Jagger on a regular basis, probably much more than he missed me. I took the bike over to Wynwood and parked next to him. His motorcycle gleamed in the late afternoon sun. Leah hadn’t smoothed all his edges. How would he get a baby seat on the back of this thing?

  The gallery was empty. Jag had an office in the back, but there was no guarantee he was here. He had another artist that worked some days, and Leah covered the rest. Depending on what Shannon told her, she might hang my ass from the rafters and call it their newest exhibit.

  It gave me a chance to do something I’d never done—look at Jag’s pictures. He took them in such a way that I wouldn’t know what I was looking at if there wasn’t a little card underneath the grouping. This one was an old factory that had made rocket ships. Fucking cool. But the angles, the way he used the light… He’d completely transformed it to something new.
I’d never been so proud of him, and I was well aware of what a shitty friend I was to not see it until now.

  A woman’s laughter rang out from the backroom. Great. Leah was here.

  “Can I help you?”

  I froze when I heard that voice. It didn’t belong to Leah.

  “Zach?”

  I turned around to face Shannon. “Hey.”

  Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she wore shorts and a tank top. And those same beat up sneakers. Had she worked on her passion project at all, since I last saw her?

  She took a couple steps back. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to talk to you.”

  “How did you know I’d be here?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

  My bullshit didn’t fly. “Every once in a while, I get lucky.”

  “And every once in a while, you don’t.” Burn. “What do you want?”

  “Do you want to go get a drink?” A little liquid courage never complicated a situation before. Said no one.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Shannon turned around, but stopped before she crashed into Leah.

  “Everything okay?” Leah asked. If she heard our conversation she’d toss me out of here on my ass.

  “Yeah. I was just going home.” Shannon’s voice was flat. She disappeared into the office.

  Leah stepped closer, cocking her head. “What did I miss?” she asked softly.

  Holy shit. First off, she was being nice to me. Shannon didn’t tell her what a shithead I’d been. Right—I didn’t take her up on her offer, and she was probably embarrassed. The guy who would fuck anyone wouldn’t fuck her. If that was her reasoning, she didn’t understand that she wasn’t just anyone.

  I shook my head. “I fucked up.”

  Shannon reemerged, slinging a bag over her shoulder as I said that. Her mouth dropped, and she softened.

  I had a chance.

  Leah rolled her eyes. “Big surprise. Leave her alone. If you’re messing with her to piss me off…”