“I think we should hold off on our arrangement until Christmas. This time, we’ll go with my plan.” He practically growled the last part. It was so sexy. “But I need some time to think about what I want.”
17
Zach
Shannon showed up fifteen minutes late. I convinced myself she changed her mind. That she didn’t want me. Want us. She took my breath away when she arrived as advertised—no makeup to hide the smudges under her eyes, hair in a tangle on top of her head. She was beautiful.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated a beautifully put together woman as much as the next guy. The ritual of what made them feel sexy and powerful intrigued me, and I’d watched more than one woman unravel when that was taken away from her. Like she couldn’t go into battle without her armor. Shannon didn’t need any of that shit. She was prepared to fight with her bare hands.
“Thought you were blowing me off,” I said.
“Sorry. I had a couple things to take care of before I left. My driver was late, and then he wouldn’t listen when I told him where I wanted to go. He insisted that I meant another club. Like I can’t read a simple address.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head. “I would’ve texted, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off him for a second.”
“Wait a minute. Driver? What are you talking about?”
“I don’t have a car. I use a ride service to get around.”
She moved here from New York City, so it made sense, but I hated the thought of her having to call someone every time she wanted to go somewhere. And spending all that money. “I could’ve picked you up. On the bike.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
I took a long sip of my drink, savoring the thought of Shannon’s body pressed against mine, the engine vibrating between her legs… “How about we send our bags down with Jagger and Leah on Christmas, and I take you to Islamorada on the bike?”
“I love that idea, but I don’t want to impose.” She frowned. “They’ll have so much to bring with the wedding, and I’m not sure if they’re going to have Leah’s family in the car, too. What about Jagger’s family?”
“He doesn’t talk to them. We’re only going to be there for two days.” And I plan to have you naked for as much of it as possible. “How much do you really need to bring?”
“This is a very interesting proposition, Mr. Collins. I’ll think about it.” She grinned at me from behind her soda that had appeared.
“Your folks aren’t pissed you’re staying here for the holiday?” I expected Shannon to be close with her family.
She shook her head. “My grandma raised me, and she’ll go to my aunt’s house. I haven’t been home for Christmas the last couple years. The plane ticket is too expensive. I’d love to get her down here for good.”
“Where is she?” Shannon had mentioned a couple different cities the first night we went out, but none of them sounded like home.
“Detroit.” She played with her straw, frowning. It was on the tip of my tongue to say I’d fly her grandmother down here, but Shannon didn’t want me to fix her problems. “She tells me they’ve cleaned up the neighborhood, but that’s not what my cousins say. She’s getting older. I worry that people will see her as an easy target.”
“Does she want to move?” If she’d raised Shannon, she probably had some pretty strong opinions.
Shannon flicked her gaze up to me and softened. “I think so. She always encouraged me to have adventures, as she called them. Take opportunities. She couldn’t, because she was raising me.” She bit her lip and looked back down at her drink. “What about you?” she asked.
“Nope.”
That got a smile out of her. “It wasn’t a yes or no question.”
“The original question was if your folks would be pissed you were taking off to the Keys for Christmas.” And she deserved a real answer. “I was a foster kid.”
She nodded. “That would’ve been me, if it weren’t for my grandma.”
“So you get it.” What it was like not to really belong anywhere. I stayed with a couple of aunts and uncles at first, but no matter how they tried to cover it up, I was a burden. An obligation they wished they hadn’t taken on. Another fucking hungry mouth to feed. I wanted to ask her what happened to her folks, but that meant I’d have to go down that road, too, and I wasn’t ready. Not tonight. I was still ripped open and exposed from last night and it was too soon to show Shannon how much I needed. It wasn’t all or nothing.
Or was it?
“I’m looking forward to having a friend Christmas. The last few years, I went to my ex’s family’s house. I hated it. So awkward, watching this perfect family have their perfect Christmas, when I knew his mother needed a minimum of a bottle of wine to keep that smile on her face.” She rolled her eyes. “And there was too much of everything—too many decorations, too much food, and so many presents. But I swear his mom always gave me the oh shit present. You know—the one people pick up in case someone shows up uninvited?”
“I fucking hate that.” The only shit I ever got as a kid was donated by someone who grabbed a tag off a tree as a good deed to make them feel better. The present never lasted that long anyway, before one of the other foster kids stole it. “You don’t think Leah’s get together will be over the top?”
“Leah’s five months pregnant, and she’s getting married. And she’s excited her daughter’s coming down. I’ll be impressed if she wraps one present.”
I forgot she had another kid. “Have you met her daughter?”
“Yeah. She’s cool. She’s got purple hair and designs video games,” Shannon said. It was a relief to be talking about someone else. “She worked with us a little bit, before the scandal hit.”
“How’d she take the news of her mom hooking up with an escort?”
Shannon grinned. “She was mortified. So, when she finds out… Never mind.”
“She finds out what?”
“That I did the same thing her mom did.” Her words trailed off as she scanned the room, looking anywhere but at me.
“Do I embarrass you?”
She jumped. “No.”
I had a long way to go before I didn’t suck with words. “Let me rephrase that. Are you embarrassed by what I do?”
Embarrassed wasn’t the right word. She said Leah’s kid was mortified. Hundreds of women had hired me over the years, but I only read too much into why the one in front of me did.
She took some time to answer. “No, I’m not embarrassed. Intrigued. It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
“To keep things separate in your head?”
It was a personal victory when she nodded.
“It isn’t usually,” I said.
“Oh.” She didn’t mask her disappointment.
“You didn’t hear what I said. Not usually. You’re the exception to the rule.” I couldn’t make it clearer than that, but it wasn’t the magical moment I’d hoped it would be. “And I don’t think you want that.”
She sighed. “I didn’t think I did. But now I don’t know.”
It was better than nothing.
“Let me pay you what I owe you for the website.” It would be such a fucking relief not to be in debt to her. “We can start over with a clean slate.”
She shook her head. “We can’t start over. Our slate is… dirty. Very, very dirty. And I like it that way. Keep your money, Zach. Let me help you.”
She could be helping me with a lot of things, but I was hanging on by a thread, getting shut down at every turn, and I didn’t know what to do. If I pushed her, I could push her away. “What about your grandmother? You could use that money to get her down here.”
And get yourself a car. And a real place to stay. Shut up, Zach.
The last thing this woman needed was a guy micromanaging her life. It would be so easy to take care of what she needed. Set her free, so she could fly. But she wanted to do those things for herself.
&
nbsp; She bit her lip, the corners of her mouth quivering upward. “I’m working on it.”
“I’m glad you came out tonight,” I said. “It’s good to see you like this.”
“I’m glad I came.”
I put money in the bill folder. “Will you let me drive you home, so some asshole doesn’t try to take you halfway across the state?”
Her face lit up. “Did you bring the bike?”
“Does it matter?”
“Maybe.” She grinned. “I told you, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
We slid out of our chairs and joined hands like it was the most natural thing in the world. We were on a date, and Shannon was mine. I’d live the lie as long as I could. How the fucking tables had turned… I used to have clients who thought our appointments were a relationship, and I had to dance around them—let them down easy. And here I was, on the other side.
“What do I do?” she asked when I handed her the helmet. She grimaced as she pulled her hair down from the top of her head, then secured it in a low ponytail.
“Hang on to me and lean into the turns. Not too much. Follow my lead.” My cock was hard at the thought of her on the back of my bike, her tits rubbing against my back through her thin T-shirt. She hadn’t bothered with a bra. “Got any questions?” I asked.
She nodded. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
“Not tonight.” It took every ounce of strength I had, to say no. I leaned in to kiss her—fuck, maybe to take the words back. But she turned her head, and my lips landed on her cheek. Neither of us moved.
“You know what I want, Zach? You. Every single fucking bit of you. Say the word. I’m yours.”
18
Shannon
The terms of our arrangement were no longer valid. I wanted to move forward, but I didn’t want to get hurt. Again.
Zach dropped me off in front of my apartment. I couldn’t convince him with words to come inside, so I tried again, this time using a language he understood. A kiss.
I hated that he was right to wait. I hated that he could show any sort of restraint in this situation. I hated that there were no guarantees that our hearts would come out of this unscathed.
He gripped my hips when the sheer intensity of the kiss buckled my knees, but that wasn’t my favorite part. It was the butterfly kisses all over my face as I caught my breath that prepared me to say goodbye, for the night. Tonight, I was the one left standing in the parking lot while he drove away.
I should’ve taken him up on his offer to pay me. Saying yes would be the easy part. Cashing a check, getting Grandma the hell out of Detroit, and buying a car were all things I wanted desperately. But I signed up for that deal before, and I missed something in the fine print. I gave and gave but didn’t get what I wanted. Instead of taking his money, I decided to sell my soul and my naughty little confessional to Insight magazine and work my ass off for Leah. Zach would stay my passion project.
My phone dinged with a text from Zach. I asked Jag if we could put our bags in his car. He said there were a few people driving down, and it should be cool.
He kept his promises, and the two weeks leading up to Christmas were torture. Not only because we didn’t see each other, but also because I didn’t realize what emotions helping Leah put the final details of her wedding into place would evoke. I’d been planning my wedding when I got the chance to move to New York City for Great Start Today, and my ex said it was the job or him. That choice had been easy at the time, but a little voice inside now screamed this should be me. I wasn’t jealous of my friends’ relationship, by any means. I was mourning the loss of something that never existed—my happily ever after.
Looking forward to it, I sent back. As much as I was dreading it. Too much time to think had left me at a disadvantage. My emotions were raw, and damn it, I hated Christmas. It wasn’t something I admitted to anyone but myself. The holiday was a mirror, showing me all the things I was missing. And asking for anyone or anything to change that was too much.
I’m gonna skip the pregame Christmas thing at Jag’s house. Too much family time for me. Are you going?
I’d planned to go to Christmas Eve Eve, as Leah was calling it, but Leah and Jagger deserved to enjoy the holiday with their family, and I wasn’t looking forward to being a tagalong. Zach’s question wasn’t an invitation, and things hadn’t gotten any less complicated since we last saw each other. I’d like something a little more low key.
I almost dropped the phone when his text came through. Want to come over to my house? Nothing Christmasy. Just dinner and hanging out.
A date, in other words. Sounds perfect.
Perfect’s one thing I’m not. Plan on me picking you up around five. Bring your suitcase.
My heart pounded. It wasn’t a date, it was a sleepover. On your motorcycle?
I have a car, too. We’ll drop the suitcases off with Jag.
Maybe it wasn’t a sleepover. Okay.
I looked up at Leah, who was grinning at catching me slacking on the job. “Zach and I are going to do our own thing before we head down to the wedding, instead of coming to your house the night before,” I said it so fast I wasn’t sure if it made sense.
She sighed, like she was trying to sound disappointed. “You’re bailing on Christmas Eve Eve? Fine, but you’ll miss my dad’s cuss-filled account of his air adventure, my mom asking the two of you way more questions than you’re prepared to answer, and only the best eighties movies. But if you think you’ll survive without all I have to offer, I guess it’s okay you want to have Christmas with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He just asked you to spend Christmas with him, and you’re glowing. He’s your something.”
I’d been about to counter that Christmas wasn’t a big deal to either of us, when I realized that made his invitation a really big deal. “I’ll give you that. But we can’t have a regular relationship.”
Leah wrinkled her nose and slid her gaze over to Jagger, as he walked by the office of the gallery. We pulled out all the stops to have Claire’s house done in time for her holiday party. She’d invited dozens of people and hired a DJ and go-go dancers. But it was at the same time as the wedding, so we’d miss it.
“Says who?” Leah asked. “And what’s so great about a regular relationship? You had one, I had one, and we both agree it sucked. I mean, Raven was worth it, but if it wasn’t for her, I’d give up all twenty years I was with Rich for the relationship everyone thinks I shouldn’t have with Jagger.”
“You’re right.”
“I don’t know what your situation is with Zach, because getting you to talk about it is like pulling teeth. I can only tell you what my experience has been. And no, they’re not the same guy, but they’re cut from the same cloth. Rich didn’t see my value. Jagger respects my career and the things I care about. And he protects that stuff for himself, too. It’s not a competition. He’s with me because he wants to be, not because society is telling him he’s got to check a wife off his to-do list by the time he turns thirty-five. It’s so refreshing. He’s the most honest man I’ve ever been with, and he doesn’t have trouble expressing himself.”
There was a reason they were best friends. “A lot of that could be said for Zach.”
Leah raised an eyebrow. “What’s the problem? Stop thinking about what you expect to happen, or how things have gone in the past.” Damn her for being so smart. “Don’t compare him to your ex. Let Zach be Zach. Don’t you hold back, either.”
I didn’t respond right away, digesting everything she said.
“Did I say too much?” She stole my line.
“Not at all.” She put everything into perspective. I was letting my past mistakes limit my future. “I wish you’d said it sooner.”
* * *
So… new rules. I wanted to keep trading services, because it meant I got to call the shots for the night—in theory, anyway, until Zach blew my plans to shit. But I liked that part, too. The amend
ment to the rules was that I wouldn’t shut Zach down before, during, or after our trades. It would be the hardest thing to enforce, because the only person holding me accountable would be me.
I ordered two dresses for the wedding. I was about to send the black one back when Zach invited me to come over on Christmas Eve Eve. Considering how I felt about the day overall, it was a little too literal for the occasion. Black was for funerals, not new beginnings.
I worked that day at the gallery, and I liked the view from there. Anything was possible, and the forgotten and abandoned could be beautiful. It was a rallying cry for people like Zach and me, whose childhoods had been littered with excuses and apologies.
Zach’s plans didn’t sound formal, but I wanted to show him I meant business. More than that—pleasure. It was an honor for him to let me into a day so many had shut him out of. And since I was giving myself to him as a present later tonight, I’d savor being unwrapped. Once I got home from work, I slipped on my prettiest underwear. There was no wearing a bra under the halter dress; it dipped down low on my back. Whether Zach appreciated stuff like that or not, a little bit of lacy armor gave me a shot of confidence.
He came to my door in dress pants and a T-shirt. “Did you work today?” I asked, not really wanting the answer.
“Yeah. I had a meeting with a couple of investors. Claire called me about your idea.” He stepped into my sitting area. It wasn’t big enough to be a living room—a loveseat, desk, and TV, with a tiny kitchen meant for people who weren’t staying very long. He completed the space, but it didn’t feel like home.
I sat on the edge of the love seat, expecting a lecture for not being able to keep my mouth shut.
“She’s game, since she got her house redone. But she also suggested chartering some boat trips and getting into international waters, since some people might be keeping an eye on me,” he said.
“Like who?” My imagination kicked into overdrive, and I cooked up a mafia-style hit.
Naked Love Page 189