Contractual

by Alice Montalvo-Tribue

  “You look nothing like the woman in that movie.”

  I let out a sigh along with another pout. “No, I don’t.”

  He leans over and places a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. “You’re far better.”

  I feel his words like a touch reaching me deep in crevices that have been dormant for a long time. With those words, he revives that little part of me that wants him to see me, the girl who lies beneath what he normally sees.

  “Relax for a little bit, get up when you’re ready, and order yourself some breakfast.”

  “What? You didn’t already order me one of everything on the menu?” I question, sarcastically.

  “Would you eat one of everything on the menu?” He scrunches his nose, and it makes him look boyish, another side of him that I’d love to explore.

  “No.”

  “Then why would I do that?”

  “Never mind.”

  He moves away from me, walking over to the adjacent chair where he’d already laid out his clothes. The towel drops to the floor, giving me a front row view of everything that is Jackson Stone. He grabs a pair of boxers and puts them on before turning back to me.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you stayed, Sage.”

  “Me, too.”

  ***

  I’m starving when I come back from my shopping trip. Since I knew that I’d be on my own for the better part of the day, I figured that I’d take Jackson up on his generous offer to pamper me. I kicked off my day with strawberry pancakes, bacon, orange juice, and a cup of coffee all enjoyed in the comfort of the fantastic hotel room. I took a quick shower, and then because it’s so frigidly cold in New York right now, I headed downstairs to the outdoor deck to enjoy the sunshine and take a quick swim in the pool. I stopped by the day spa where, true to his word, Jackson had prearranged for me to enjoy just about any service they had to offer. I opted for a manicure, pedicure, and a relaxation massage. All that pampering took me into early afternoon, and by that point, I was feeling too good to go back and sit there for the rest of the day. I called Mac, who was all too happy to act as my guide and give me a tour of the area, a tour that ended with him taking me to some prime shopping locations. I felt kind of odd having free rein to Jackson’s credit card, but Mac assured me that it was no big deal. This made me feel slightly better, so that I didn’t feel too bad when I bought a new pair of strappy silver stilettos and chandelier earrings to go with the little black dress that I had intended to wear for dinner.

  After all of that, it’s no wonder that I’m so hungry. I decide to stop by the hotel restaurant and order soup to tide me over until my late dinner with Jackson.

  “Welcome to Caffney’s.” This comes from a cute perky redhead standing behind the hostess booth. “Table for one?”

  “Thank you. Actually, I was hoping that I could just order soup to go.”

  “Certainly, miss. Are you a guest staying in the hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, if you’d like, you can place an order and I can have it delivered up to your room.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  She begins to tell me the kind of soup she has available when I spot him. Jackson is sitting in the dining room with a man and two women. One of the women is sitting irritatingly close to Jackson. She leans over to say something in his ear, and her beautiful blond hair falls to the side brushing his arm. It looks to me like a blatantly obvious form of flirtation on her part, and he does nothing to stop it. Instead, he turns his head and smiles at her. The kind of smile that I rarely see from him. My heart starts to beat faster, and I feel hot all of a sudden. I have an irrational urge to walk over to the table and make my presence known, but I know that’s crazy.

  “Ma’am?” I hear the hostess call, snapping me out of my little stalking session. I look back at her, feeling flustered by what I just saw, but giving her my attention nonetheless.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “What kind of soup would you like?”

  “Oh, um, chicken noodle is fine,” I say handing her my key card. “Can you just charge it to my room?”

  “Certainly. We’ll bring it right up.”

  I give her a half smile before leaving the restaurant and stepping on the elevator. I make it to my room, tossing my things on a chair and plopping down on the king-size bed. He said that he would be conducting business all day, but that little scene I walked in on looked more like a double date than it did work. I’ve known for a while now that my feelings for Jackson were starting to stretch beyond what the appropriate limit should be, but seeing him with another woman bothered me more than I thought it would. I didn’t like it; I didn’t like her sitting close to him, her hair brushing over his body, the way she seemed a little too at ease with him. I hate that I’m having this reaction, and I know that these feelings are something that I’m going to have to deal with eventually. It’s important for me to come to terms with the fact that this will never be anything more than what the contract specifies. Jackson Stone owes me nothing; he’s free to do as he pleases, and I have no say—not now, not ever.

  I sit down at the tiny bistro table in the sitting area overlooking the golf course with my untouched bowl of soup, trying to figure out how my life went so wrong. Of course, life in Indiana was far from perfect, but it was certainly easier. At least it was financially easier. I was never rich, but I had enough to make ends meet and live somewhat comfortably. Life in New York has been an uphill battle from the start. I wasn’t prepared for all of the hardships that I would have to face, hardships that ultimately landed me here. I know that what I’m doing is wrong. Even though it’s a much tamer version, I’m still, in essence, a prostitute.

  I wonder if it would have been better if I had just gone back home to face my mother. To see the constant look of disapproval in her eyes only intensified by my failure would have been too much. And my father, my father who likes to rule with an iron fist, literally… I couldn’t go back there and subject myself to that. He hasn’t laid a hand on me since I moved out when I was twenty years old, and I wasn’t about to give him a chance to start now. Then, of course, I could have always reached out to my brother for help, but that might just be worse than my parents. My older brother, the preacher, is strict, mean, and extremely judgmental. When my family found out that I was seeing Billy, they were outraged. Not because he was a loser (which he clearly was) or because he didn’t have the best of jobs (which he didn’t), but because he’d had a child out of wedlock. Out of all of them, my brother was the worst, practically disowning me and calling Maddie a bastard child. Why would I go back to that kind of dysfunction? Why would I subject myself to that kind of judgment and abuse? Surely, selling my body was a better choice.

  As I sit and stare out the window, I conclude that it wouldn’t be a good idea to mention to Jackson that I saw him at the restaurant. Whatever was happening down there was probably innocent enough. And even if it wasn’t, it has nothing to do with me. I have no right to care, no claim to him, and it’s really none of my business.

  Jackson-

  Fucking brutal. That’s how I would describe sitting at a table with this motley crew of has-beens. Between all of them, they haven’t come up with a profitable idea for their company in years. Listening to them embellish the details of upcoming projects, which will put them back on the map, is laughable at best. Why they think that I would even entertain the thought of investing in them is beyond me, and worse, I can’t understand why my team would actually think that it would be a good idea to schedule this meeting for me.

  The blonde has been overtly flirting with me all night. Usually, I would take advantage of her advances with advances of my own that would ultimately conclude with her naked in my bed, but today that’s not the case. Today, I find her flirting to be irritating. I’d much rather be upstairs in my room with Sage.

  I say my goodbyes to the table as quickly as possible then waste no time in jumping on the elevator. I promised Sage a late dinner,
and I intend to give her just that. The room is silent when I enter, and I walk into the empty bedroom, take a look around, and find that it, too, is empty. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and just as I’m about to dial her number, the bathroom door opens, and out walks Sage, looking like any man’s dream woman.

  I look her over, taking in the whole picture—a little black dress that hugs her curves to perfection, her legs elongated by a pair of silver fuck-me high heels, and her hair swept up in a messy bun. My dick twitches at the sight of her. Shit, she always looks beautiful, but right now… she’s stunning.

  “Hello, Mr. Stone,” she says, standing in the light of the dimly lit bathroom. The sound of her voice brings my body to full attention; she elicits a reaction from me like no other woman. It’s strange how a woman who is nothing like I thought I would ever want can ignite something so carnal in me.

  “Hello, Miss Turner. You’re looking well this evening.”

  “I am, thank you.”

  “Did you have a good day?”

  “I did. I bought this outfit and the earrings since all of my jewelry is gone.”

  “Why is your jewelry gone?”

  It’s hard to mistake the look of embarrassment before she masks it with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders. “I had to sell it a while back, no big deal.”

  No big deal she says, as if pawning jewelry is just an everyday occurrence. I make a mental note to dig further into this topic with Mac.

  “Anyway, I had a nice time today.”

  “Good. Well, then, I suppose we should head out and grab some dinner,” I tell her. Casually, I begin to walk, closing the distance between us and locking my eyes on hers.

  “Okay,” she says on a breath. I know I’m affecting her. In fact, I love the way that I affect her.

  “Or maybe,” I grab her hand pulling her out of the open doorway and bringing her closer to me, “we’ll do dinner later.”

  “Later?”

  “Yes, later. Are you hungry?”

  “A little bit.”

  “Me, too,” I say just before pushing her against an adjacent wall and bunching her dress to pull it just above her waist. She whimpers when I push her panties to the side and coat my fingers with her wetness. Sage is always ready for me, always wanting more from me. And I know she hates it; I know she struggles with her attraction to me, as I do with mine for her, but neither of us is willing to do anything to stop it. We both ignore whatever it is between us and mask it with the arrangement that we have—cover it up as merely a business transaction so that neither one of us has to admit that it could easily be more.

  I insert a finger into her waiting pussy, eliciting a moan from her when I begin to move it in a come-hither motion, hitting her G-spot on impact. The sounds that she makes drive me, push me, into a state of reckless abandon where all I can think of is fucking her senseless and making her cry my name. With my thumb on her exposed clit, I bring her to the edge only to pull away just before she detonates.

  “Jackson,” she begs, wanting more, needing me to take care of her, and fuck if I don’t want to take care of this girl. The idea alone keeps me on edge.

  “What is it, baby?”

  “Please.”

  “You want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours?” She rewards my question with another whimper and another rush of wetness between her legs. “You like it when I talk dirty to you, don’t you?”

  She throws her head back as she calls out one more time. “Jackson.”

  “Shhh. I know,” I tell her, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck. I undo the button on my pants and shove them down along with my boxers. “Put your arms around me and hop up, baby.”

  She follows my command almost immediately and when her legs are wrapped snugly around my waist, I push inside, filling her tight warm pussy with my cock. I rest my forehead against hers, taking a minute to enjoy the feel of her all around me, a connection that confuses and excites me.

  “Fuck, you always feel so good,” I admit to her. She tightens her arms around my neck in response and buries her head in the crook of my neck as I begin to move, slowly at first, then gradually increasing the rhythm as I thrust in and out of her. Her crying intensifies, and I know she’s close. I can feel her walls start to tighten around me, and I increase my speed, needing her to finish before I allow my own release.

  Her legs around me stiffen, her breath catches, and with another thrust, she’s there, crying out and calling my name when she reaches her peak. That’s all it takes for me, a few more strokes and I’m joining her, reaching an intense climax with one hand on the wall while the other is buried in her now fucked-up hair.

  “Oh, my God,” I vaguely hear Sage whisper as I loosen my grip on her, allowing her to slowly unwrap her limbs from me. I guide her to a standing position on the ground and carefully steady her. I place a kiss on her lips and give her a grin as I push a few loose strands of hair off her face.

  “Still hungry?”

  She lets out giggle as she replies, “Starving.”

  “Me, too.” I grab hold of the material of her dress that I unmercifully shoved out of my way earlier and pull it back down into place. “I’m afraid that I’ve messed up your hair.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispers, her eyes going soft. They’re telling me something important, I know, but I can’t decipher what and I’m not sure that I want to. She raises her hand and places it gently on my cheek, giving it a few small strokes with her thumb. No one has ever done that before, touched me like this. It’s intimate in a way that I’m not used to, in a way that almost causes a physical ache in my chest. “I’ll go fix it,” she says, pulling away from me. She hurries off into the bathroom, leaving me standing there completely speechless.

  Sage-

  Jackson takes me to a quiet restaurant situated right on the water located about twenty minutes away from the hotel. I had to walk away from him earlier when I touched his face; he looked almost horrified and it made me wonder if I had stepped over some imaginary boundary. He recovered quickly, and I didn’t mention anything, just fixed my hair and pretended that it never happened. He was quiet on the way over, but he held my hand; it happened so casually that I didn’t even notice it had happened until the car came to a stop and I realized that we were connected.

  He led me into the restaurant with a hand on the small of my back, helped me to my seat, and pushed in my chair. He ordered wine and made suggestions on the menu. It was all soooo… normal. Well, not normal for me—but normal for a couple. Only we are not a couple, and we never will be. It’s something that I remind myself on a daily basis, and I refuse to let myself become starry-eyed and hopeful over something that can never be. Dreams of grandeur like this can only lead to heartache, and I’ve already had my share.

  “Penny for your thoughts.”

  His voice breaks through my self-pity party, and I glance out at the water taking in the view. “I was just thinking about how beautiful this is.”

  “It is,” he agrees. I shift my gaze to him, and his hazel eyes are on me. “Tell me about yourself.”

  “Excuse me?” I heard him, but I can’t believe he’s asking. There was a time not so long ago when he wanted to know nothing about me. Why the sudden change of heart?

  “I said tell me about yourself.”

  I pick up my wine glass and take a sip. “What do you want to know?”

  “Whatever you’d like to tell me.”

  There’s nothing that I would like to tell him about myself. My life sucks, it always has. The only good thing I’ve ever had was Maddie, and she came with her loser of a father. I spear a piece of my expensive steak, and before I take a bite, I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Well, I’m twenty-seven.”

  “Fascinating.”

  “What?” I shrug my shoulders. “That’s something about me. How old are you?”

  “Thirty-five.”

  I gasp in mock horror. “Ancient.”

  “Very.” He smiles before
taking a bite of his food.

  “Okay,” I say, deciding that I’ll give him the basics. “I’m originally from Indiana, and I moved to New York a little over a year ago.”

  “Big move.”

  “Very.”

  “Why did you make it?”

  I tilt my head and give him another shrug. “Why do women make any crazy bad decision?”

  “A man.”

  I turn my attention back to the water. “If you can call him that, yes. Anyway, he’s long gone now.”

  “How long gone?” he growls. I look back at him, the intensity of his voice and stare startling me.

  “So long gone that I wouldn’t know how to find him if I tried. Not that I would want to find him.”

  He nods. “Can I ask how you ended up in this profession?”

  “Well, after Billy left, he took away the little bit of financial help I was getting. I was working for barely minimum wage because I couldn’t find anything better and I started falling behind on everything. It just started to spiral out of control and I did the best I could. I was looking for new jobs daily, but nothing panned out.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.” He means it, I can tell, and it makes me feel good that he cares enough about me to feel sorry for me. Even if that’s not the emotion that I’d prefer he felt.

  “Me, too.”

  “What happened next?” he probes.

  I let out a sigh because I know that I’m getting to the part where my true stupidity comes out. “Well, during my nightly job search, I came across an ad for a massage therapist. I had taken a course on it a while back and thought maybe it would be something I could do in the meantime, but…”

  “But they weren’t really looking for a masseuse, were they?”

  He might as well be saying Duh, Sage, get a fucking clue. “No. I held out, though, told them no, and I meant it. It wasn’t until I lost my job a month later that I actually even allowed myself to consider it.”