When the aftershocks stopped, she draped herself over him. He held her tightly and, when she lifted her face to his, he kissed her breathless. “I want you to remember this night for the rest of your life.”
Because I’m sure as hell not going to forget this…or her.
5
The Morning After
In the dimly lit room, Taylor slinked out of bed as soon as Jagger rolled away. She wanted to avoid any awkward “morning-after” conversations or empty promises about getting together. His life—his new life—was out west. She was a realist who lived on the East Coast. Their “no strings” night had been phenomenal and she wanted to remember him in that vein. Even so, melancholy snaked its way around her heart.
It was five forty in the morning. They’d barely had two hours’ sleep. As she slipped into her dress, she glimpsed herself in the mirror. Their lust-filled evening flooded her consciousness and her insides clenched with desire. He’d played her body like a virtuoso, until she succumbed to the ecstasy. She’d no idea who this Loving guy was, but she was confident he was trouble.
Though she’d never had a one-night stand, she knew from listening to her girlfriends that this was no ordinary hookup. Playboy or not, the man was a sex god.
Instead of jotting down her phone number, she left her panties on the bed. A little something from Raven. She could only find one shoe, so she left it, too. If he found the other, he could donate the pair to a charity.
Before scurrying out, she regarded him one last time. Silky strands of his mussed hair feathered the pillow. She longed to run her fingers over the majestic phoenix inking his broad back. But it was his calm, rhythmic breathing that beckoned. If she didn’t escape now, she’d never want to leave him. Ever.
She’d had her fun. Time to let him go.
With a heavy heart, she quietly closed the suite door and padded to the elevator in the deserted hallway. Down to the second floor, and then a mad dash to her room.
Once inside, she shed her clothing, unpinned her hair, and headed for the bathroom. After flipping on the faucet, she stepped beneath the spray. Streams of hot water sluiced her tired body while she imagined Jagger’s handsome face. Bright eyes that never left hers, chiseled cheekbones, and a strong jaw, covered in a sexy goatee. But his sensual mouth and the passion behind his kisses kept them lip-locked for hours.
As she shampooed her hair, she envisioned his arms holding her tightly and the possessive way he moved inside her. His deep, rumbling laugh. The thickness of his thighs, those bulging biceps, and that light dusting of chest hair. Her insides throbbed with need. So sexy. Pretending to be Raven had given her the courage to share her ultimate fantasy, and partake in his. A shudder ran through her. What if he’s married? Oh, god, no. She vowed not to Google him.
After dressing, she hurried downstairs to check out. She’d taken another day off from work to help Melissa close loose ends with the fundraiser. Though they’d not planned to meet until nine, she didn’t want to bump into Jagger in the hotel lobby or restaurant.
In the parking garage, she hurried to her vehicle and stopped cold. The spot where she thought she’d parked her car was vacant. She surveyed the area, but her BMW wasn’t there. Had she gotten off on the wrong floor? She checked the other parking levels, but her car wasn’t on those, either. The magic of her evening vaporized in a puff of panic. What had happened to her vehicle? Rushing back inside, she spoke with the hotel manager.
“I’m very sorry,” said the manager. “Several cars were stolen during the night. The police will be here shortly and I’ll let you know when they arrive. In the meantime, breakfast is on us.”
Seriously? She didn’t want food. She wanted her vehicle.
And she did not want to run into Jagger.
With no other choice, she waited in the dining room, but she couldn’t eat, not with her stomach in knots.
Full of energy, Jagger shot up onto his elbows. Alone in the king bed, he didn’t need to check the suite to know she’d bolted. The room felt cold without her. “Dammit.”
He dropped back onto his pillow and stared at the beveled ceiling. “Christ, I didn’t even get her phone number or her last name.” As he pushed out of bed, he glanced at the blank notepad on the night table. She would have left it, if she were interested.
Rolling into the bathroom, a headache took root behind his eye. Hoping a scalding shower would drown his frustration, he turned on the faucet and waited for the spray to heat.
While he’d agreed to one night, he’d never had anyone walk out on him. Even at the height of his “nail any attractive woman who crosses my path” phase, he would offer to take her to breakfast in the morning. Playboy, yes, but a cad, no way.
Twenty minutes later, while adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror, their zesty mirror sex crashed into his thoughts. His chest heated, his dick stirred. Clearly, his body hadn’t caught up with the fact that his birthday present had vanished as quickly as she’d materialized.
“Happy birthday.” His stern reflection glared back.
He ran his fingers through his damp hair, zipped his Dopp kit, and powered into the bedroom. He’d had no intention of telling Raven it was his birthday, but as he drifted to sleep with her snuggled in his arms, he couldn’t wait for breakfast in bed. And a bite to eat after devouring her. Jagger was slow to anger, but there was something about the way she snuck out before dawn that rubbed him the wrong way.
With phone in hand, he replied to a few emails requiring his immediate attention. Everything else could wait. As he grabbed his bags, he spied her pink panties on the bed and her stiletto on the floor. Then, he spotted the other shoe sticking out from beneath the bed. She’d been in some hurry to leave, hadn’t she? That realization pissed him off even more. He packed the shoes in his overnight bag. Those, he’d donate. Had things been different, he would have returned them to her personally.
He shouldered his bag and strode toward the front door. Don’t leave her panties. He retraced his steps, grabbed her underwear, and shoved them inside his carry-on. If a photo of those panties—in his suite—ended up on social media, he’d never hear the end of it. Even I deserve some damn privacy.
As he rode the elevator downstairs, he considered asking Melissa for Raven’s number. But Raven would have jotted it down if she were interested. In reality, their chances of getting together again were slim-to-none. No strings. No regrets. The bitter taste in his mouth remained, and the need to see her wouldn’t go away.
He entered the hotel lobby and made his way into the restaurant for a breakfast meeting. Even at seven-thirty, the room was buzzing with sleepy-eyed guests.
“Jagger Loving, party of two,” he said to the hostess.
“Yes, sir, your guest has arrived. Right this way.”
Taylor spotted him the second he entered the room. Her heart took off like a thoroughbred when the gate opens. She’d been concerned he’d dine there, and her instincts had been right. She peeked over the top of the Washington Post as Jagger followed the hostess to a table by the window.
A pretty woman rose to greet him. A brief peck on the lips before he held out her chair. Taylor’s blood boiled, but she had no business feeling anything toward this man. They’d had an agreement; one that she’d imposed. Still, as he sat facing her, she couldn’t help but feel used. What a player.
The woman slid a small box across the table. He shot her one of his sexy grins and opened it. Taylor strained to see what looked like sparkling cufflinks.
She should have waited in the lobby, but she couldn’t tear herself away. He laughed with ease. His breakfast companion reached across the table to touch his arm. Why don’t you sit on his lap while you’re at it?
The server approached her table. “Ma’am, the police are here. If you’re ready, I can escort you.”
As Taylor followed the staffer out, she shielded her face with the folded newspaper, but she doubted Jagger would have noticed her anyway. I told him no strings. I skulked out in the preda
wn hour. Let it go. I had the best time ever. If anything, Jagger showed me there are men out there who are great in bed. Be happy. Move on. Though her pep talk helped, her heart ached for that connection. It might have only been one night, but it’d been special enough to question whether walking out on him had been a mistake.
After speaking with the officer, her hope of ever seeing her vehicle again, fizzled. With her stomach in knots, she jumped into a waiting taxi and instructed the driver to take her to Arlington, Virginia. She could have bummed a ride from Melissa, but sticking around was tempting fate.
As expected, the small office space for Walk a Mile was dark. She turned on lights, set down her bags, and brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. With a piping hot mug of joe in hand, she powered on the two computers, then called her insurance agency to report the theft. Melissa wasn’t due for an hour, so after texting her, she pulled her work laptop from her bag, and got busy. There were always ongoing events to coordinate and manage at Mitus.
Her mind soon wandered back to the auction. She’d overcome a panic attack. Hadn’t passed out or fallen flat on her face, either. Those were colossal wins. And then, there was Jagger. His handsome face, that sexy tuft of hair cresting over his brow, and his strong, sculpted physique. She loved the firm way he’d held her, the intensity behind his kisses, and how attentive he was to her needs. She’d never been with a man who cared more about her physical pleasure than his own.
Arousal coursed through her and her cheeks heated. She scurried into the tiny kitchen and yanked a bottle of water from the fridge. Before twisting the lid, she pressed the cold plastic to her forehead. Relief. She was burning with desire.
“Morning!” Melissa exclaimed.
Squealing, Taylor spun around.
“Good God, you’ll give me a heart attack. Why are you so jumpy?”
“Not much sleep. My car was stolen.”
Melissa’s eyes grew wide. “Didn’t you park in the hotel garage?”
After Taylor explained what had happened, Melissa offered to pay for the rental car until she could purchase a replacement. “I feel responsible since it happened during the charity event.”
“Thank you, but I’d never take Walk a Mile funds, plus, my insurance company will cover the cost of a rental. I’m bummed, but it would have been way worse if I’d been carjacked.”
“Don’t even say those words! I’m so sorry that happened.” Melissa smelled the milk before dumping some into her mug.
They left the kitchen and sat at the two desks facing each other in the small workspace.
“So, how was Jagger?” Melissa waggled her brows. “And don’t leave out the good stuff.”
Taylor leaned over, though no one else was there. “Please don’t breathe a word of what I’m about to tell you.”
“Of course not. You know I don’t gossip.”
“He had this sexy tattoo of a phoenix on his back. He was sweet and great in bed. My one-night stand was amazing.”
Melissa’s brows pinched together. “What do you mean, one-night stand? How was he this morning?”
“I left before he woke up. I couldn’t bear his disappointment at having to face me after…well, you know. And I didn’t want to continue lying to him.”
“I’m definitely missing something here.” She sipped her coffee. “Why couldn’t you just tell him the truth?”
“Absolutely not.” Taylor paused to nibble her fingernail. “Being Raven gave me courage to emcee that event, to go upstairs to his suite, to stay there with him, to have sex with a stranger. You know me. I’m terrified of trying anything new. I’m the picture of risk-averse. Raven, on the other hand, was the total opposite, and I never felt so free. I was totally upfront with him and we agreed to a no-strings evening.”
“And if he contacts me for your number? Let’s keep in mind that he paid for a date with you. For twenty thousand, he deserves an entire week.”
They cracked up laughing.
“He lives in California and, from what I could tell, he’s super busy. Plus, he’s probably forgotten all about me. Those player-types move from one woman to the next.”
“You didn’t Google him, did you?”
Taylor held up her hand. “No, and I don’t want to know anything about Jagger Loving. If he calls you for my number, let me know. I’ve saved money working at Mitus and will reimburse the charity.”
“That’s crazy!”
Taylor set down her mug and crossed her arms. “Our paths won’t cross again. It was fun—a lot of fun—but it’s over.”
Secretly, she wished it wasn’t. She had never met anyone like Jagger Loving and doubted she ever would again.
6
Jagger’s Big Ass Problem
Jagger hugged a frail Kimberly Mitus goodbye before exiting the guesthouse on Colton’s property. He couldn’t leave Virginia without seeing one of his best friends. But his heart broke for Colton and his mother. “I’m sorry,” Jagger said to his longtime friend.
“She’s a fighter, but she can’t beat brain cancer.” Colton couldn’t hide the sadness in his voice. “Thanks for spending time with her.”
In silence, the two men walked towards the main house, a sprawling mansion on Mitus’s fifty-acre estate in Great Falls, Virginia.
“I love your mom.” Jagger followed Colton into the house. “During college, she was everyone’s mother. Is she well enough to travel?”
“Possibly. What did you have in mind?”
“You and Brigit should bring her to my California property. The ocean views offer spectacular sunsets. It might be nice for her. I’d put you up in one of the Presidential suites. Each comes with two private bedrooms.”
“Thank you,” Colton said as they stepped into the elevator. “I appreciate that.”
“I don’t know what you’re going through,” Jagger said. “I only know how I felt when my dad passed away.”
Colton’s signature nod signaled an end to the discussion about Kimberly Mitus.
They stepped out of the elevator on the main floor, and walked down the long hallway toward the double doors at the end. “Scotch still your favorite?” Colton opened his office door and gestured.
“No alcohol for me, thanks,” Jagger said as he entered. “Sparkling or still water is fine.” He glanced around the large space. “Great man cave with all the Mitus bells and whistles.”
“Thanks,” Colton said. “I’m glad you stopped by. It’s good to see you.”
As Colton poured two sparkling waters, Jagger lifted a framed photo from Colton’s desk. “Brigit’s beautiful. Maverick said she’s perfect for you. Congratulations.” Colton’s wide grin made Jagger chuckle. “Your smile says it all. Where is she?”
“Her office.” Colton tossed another nod toward an open door in the corner before handing the water goblet to Jagger. “I’ll grab her when we’re finished catching up. I want to hear about your latest resort—especially since I have a stake in it—and the life of an international playboy.”
Jagger laughed. “After the incident, I gave up the wild lifestyle. Except for golf, I work like a dog.” His phone rang. His assistant was calling. “Gotta grab this.”
“I’ll check on Brigit.” Colton headed toward the corner office.
“Robby, what’s the word?”
“We’ve got a major effing problem. I’ve had no sleep and I’m freaking out.”
Robby operated at a higher frequency than Jagger, but the alarm in his assistant’s voice made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. “What’s going on?”
“Erin moved to Vegas.”
“What?” No way would his event director bail at such a critical time.
“She won’t return my calls or texts, but she posted a selfie outside a casino with a comment about her exciting, new life,” Robby continued. “Her laptop’s missing and, from what the event staff told me, she hadn’t offloaded much. Beyond the two grand-opening parties, we can’t figure out what else has been planned, if anything. We don�
��t know what shows are booked. We’ve been going nonstop but I have nothing solid to tell you. We are so screwed.”
With a slow and deliberate move, Jagger set down the glass. “Contact IT and have her passwords killed. HR needs to pull her non-compete. Have them check with legal about taking action against her if they determine she’s violated her contract.”
“Got it,” Robby said. “We open in less than a week! I think I’m going to have a massive coronary.”
“Who on the event team could take the lead until we find a replacement?”
“Honestly? No one. David and Adele are good, but they lack the take-charge attitude this exec-level position demands. Ohmygod, I’m having heart palpitations.”
“Have you contacted Kate?”
“Your publicist? How can she help?”
“She’s well-connected and might know someone we can pull in on short notice.”
“Okay…right. I’m in major panic mode. I booked you on an earlier flight, so you need to get to Dulles. I’ll text you the flight itinerary and I’ll pick you up at LAX.”
“Thanks for the update.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have a solution. Oh, happy birthday, Jagger.”
“Thanks.” Jagger ended the call. “Dammit.”
“What’s going on?” Colton asked from across the room.
Refusing to let defeat seep into his bones, Jagger joined him at the window overlooking the back of Colton’s expansive property. Jagger had overcome roadblocks and last-minute emergencies before. He’d do it again. But this obstacle was bigger than anything he’d encountered, and he wasn’t sure where to start with damage control.
“My event director walked. The staff doesn’t know what activities were booked. Robby can’t confirm if there’s anything besides the daylong cocktail party and the masquerade party, both on opening day. I need one hell of a lot more than that. Jesus, I am so fucked.”
THE LOVING TOUCH Page 5
