Ties That Bind (The Escort, #3)

by Kristen Strassel

  Leah turned into me, the glass rattling when she leaned against it. I loved the way she looked at me. Peace washed over her, mixed with the desire of something that could never be quelled.

  At least that’s what I hoped. For this feeling to last forever.

  “I was thinking the same thing.” She pulled the top over her head, and it hung from her finger before she let it drop. I couldn’t take my eyes off her body. The swell of her breasts barely contained by her lacy bra. The outline of her nipples, already at attention and begging for my touch. The soft curve of her belly and the lines that disappeared into her jeans. She considered them a failure, but I thought they were a triumph. This wasn’t Leah’s first rodeo, but I’d do everything in my power to make damn sure it was her last.

  Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked back to the bar, her gaze never leaving mine. She sat on the stool and unhooked her sandal.

  “Let me.” I knelt in front of her, loving the view even more from down here. Leah’s hair hung in her face as I caught her in the act, but she nodded and sat back.

  She raised her hips after I unzipped her jeans, and closed her eyes when I slid them down her thighs. I left her underwear on. Plain black and cotton, they didn’t match her bra, which was unusual for her. Her bra straps slid down her shoulders, and her nipples spilled out of the cups. Fuck. That was sexy. I trailed my fingers up her body, catching her chin so I could meet her lips in a kiss.

  Leah wrapped her legs around my back and pulled me in closer to her. The stool rocked but I caught her before we hit the floor. Never breaking the kiss, we were both in danger of falling.

  “Get down on the floor,” she murmured. “And take your clothes off.”

  She didn’t have to ask me twice. Nothing was sexier than when Leah told me what she wanted. I was down on my knees before her lips could curl up in a grin. T-shirt—gone, and my shorts followed. I scooted back, giving Leah a moment to consider her options. I was ready for her. For every single thing she had to offer. Leah was mine now, she’d proven that by taking the leap and moving down here. And I planned on giving it as good as I got it.

  I had a feeling I was about to get it damn good.

  She straddled me, still standing. The air between us was thick with desire, choking any words before they made it to my lips. I had to tell her. But not now, I shook the thought away as Leah dropped to her knees.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, settling in my lap.

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  Her lips hovered above my cheek but she didn’t kiss me. “I don’t believe you. But whatever it is, I’m going to make you forget all about it.”

  She ran her hands over my chest, along my stomach, and back to my arms, ignoring my cock like it wasn’t even there. It drove me crazy in all the right ways. I tipped my head back, easing my shoulders down on the floor.

  Leah loved to point out how my photography skewed my view of the world, and interior design did the same for her. She knew that touch was the most important of the senses. It offered comfort and safety. She planned on making this her home.

  She grabbed my shaft. Her demeanor changed, from soft and comforting to something much more urgent. Need. Her grip was tight, and movements against the tip demanded my complete attention. She moved up and down, and I chased the movement with my hips.

  “I missed you,” I said. It ended with a moan as she cupped my balls. I loved that. “This time was the worst, especially once all your stuff showed up. Because I knew you were staying.”

  She stilled her hand. “Are you nervous?”

  Her question caught me off-guard. “Yeah.” I had to get comfortable with the truth. “I want to make sure I’m enough for you.”

  “Don’t worry about that for a second.” She leaned down, her bra grazing my chest as she gripped my shoulders for balance. A soft kiss landed on my lips, followed by another, rough and hungry. I had to get inside her anyway I could.

  “I’m nervous too,” she said when she separated. “There’s no way around it. I have absolutely no idea what happens next. But whatever it is, I want you with me.”

  “That’s why I want you to forget this lawsuit.” Don’t talk about this now. “Give yourself a clean slate.”

  Leah withdrew, frowning. “Going through with it will give me the clean slate. Part of what makes this so good is I chose to come here. It wasn’t picking from the lesser of two evils, or keeping my mouth shut when I wanted to scream. I did that for too long. If I give into Rich, I start this new chapter of my life with weakness.”

  I didn’t see it that way at all. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “To me it is. I ran away last time, thinking that was all I needed to be safe from their shit, and Rich and Shelley found a way to ruin it. I won’t let them do it again.”

  She swallowed hard when she sat back, running her hand through her hair before picking up where she left off with my cock. But it was different this time.

  “Let me.” I sat up, catching her by surprise. Leah surrendered, her body relaxing as I led her to the floor. She blinked rapidly, like I’d brought her back from somewhere else.

  I had to keep her here with me. “Turn around.”

  She narrowed her eyes but did as I asked. Sort of. She knew exactly what I wanted, and shifted her weight back on her knees, that glorious ass breaking away from her panties, begging me to do something. I couldn’t keep my hands off her. Leah writhed under my touch, making a noise that sounded like a purr.

  She looked at me over her shoulder. “Please, Jagger.” Her words were breathy. “I’ve been going absolutely crazy without you.”

  I slapped her ass and she yelped, but it ended as laughter. She put her head down on her hands, and her body shook. So of course I did it again.

  “Come on,” she groaned. “Now that I live here I have to beg you to fuck me?”

  “You’ll be lucky if I can keep my hands off you,” I said. Yanking her panties to the side, I slipped inside her. Leah was more than ready for me. Once I hit my stride, I grabbed a handful of her hair. Her back bowed. Her breathing was ragged, complementing the rhythm of her swaying hips. I rubbed her ass one more time and she practically growled. At this angle, she was wild. Completely uninhibited.

  I slumped forward when I came inside of her. Leah stretched out, and I lay on top of her, both of us catching our breath.

  She didn’t climax.

  “I’m gonna take a shower.” She slid out from under me. “Meet me in bed?”

  I nodded and watched her walk away. I considered following her but she’d made it clear I wasn’t invited. Fuck. I hoped she didn’t have second thoughts about being here. All of her stuff was still in boxes. It was too easy for her to change her mind.

  After her shower, Leah dropped her towel beside the bed and climbed in. Still damp all over, she let out a little sigh as she settled.

  “I like this. A lot,” I said. Every morning I’d wake up with this woman in my bed. I couldn’t possibly have a bad day ever again.

  “I do too.” Leah rolled to her side and considered me. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  So much shit was swirling in my head I didn’t know where to start. If I opened my mouth, it could all come out, or nothing. Even money on either option. “Yeah.” It was closer to nothing. “You didn’t get off.”

  I hid behind sex for so long that not making a woman come was an epic failure.

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Leah sat up, catching the sheet as it slipped away from her tits. “Jagger. Believe me when I tell you it was the best welcome home I’ve ever had. And believe something else—it’s not always going to be magical. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love every single thing you do to me.”

  She meant to make me feel better, but it didn’t work. “It was pretty fucking magical for me. I want to make it that way for you.”

  Her smile was sad, but she settled her head on my chest. Right above
my heart, where she belonged. “And you do. I’m exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally. I left my daughter at college and moved to a new city all in one day. I know you haven’t lived with someone before. It’s . . . not always easy. Even when it’s good. Things will change between us, and I’m looking forward to it. Don’t be afraid of the hard stuff.” She picked her head up; her wet hair clung to her cheek. She kissed my shoulder. “That’s what makes the rest of it worthwhile.”

  Chapter Three

  Leah

  My wheels were spinning about the storefront Jagger suggested. I could only go into it with an open mind. The fact that it wasn’t a traditional office space shouldn’t put me off. The space had a lot of promise, and I wasn’t sure that I was equipped to make the most of it.

  The more I thought about it, the more I didn’t think it was as good of a solution as Jagger did. As much as he had been a perfect candidate for Second Chances, now that we lived together, I wasn’t sure working next door to each other was the best thing for us. One of the reasons our relationship worked so well this far was because we had room to breathe. It could be too much, too soon.

  Jagger’s neighbors didn’t know me, so there was no harm in doing a walk-through before we met with the landlord. The shop owner and I shared the same style—colorful, mid-century modern. A few things would be mine by the end of the day. These places were gold to me—full of inspiration and promise, and items that needed a new home.

  My introduction to my new home last night left an echo I couldn’t escape. Jagger and I had been together for almost a year, but most of that time, we’d been apart. If this had just been a visit, I would’ve sucked it up last night. Never said anything. But after two life-changing events in one day, my filter wasn’t catching everything like it usually did. And I was glad for that. I’d never fake it with Jagger. I promised myself he’d always know where I stood. I vowed to make things different this time.

  “Why are they leaving?” I asked Jagger as we headed upstairs. The woman running the store was about my age, and she seemed into what she was doing. I chatted with her for so long as she wrapped up a pair of lamps for me, I was almost late for the meeting. And I hadn’t been the only one in the store. It didn’t make any sense that she’d be going out of business.

  “She inherited a house somewhere out west. New Mexico, I think. It must be a pretty sweet deal, because she’s always busy. Don’t know how many people buy, but there’s always someone in there.”

  “Interesting.” I was glad to hear that. Nothing was more depressing than a failed venture. “Good to know she isn’t leaving behind any bad vibes.”

  The landlord loved Jagger. I had a good feeling about this building. We could make this work. It wouldn’t be easy, and there would be growing pains, but something inside told me to go for it.

  But he frowned when I told him my business plan. “I misunderstood Jagger when he explained your business. The building is zoned to be retail. If you take the space, you have to be open for customers.”

  “My clients would meet with me there, does that count?” The disappointment that this might not happen surprised me.

  “Possibly. I’ll have to check the paperwork. Even if you have one item with a price tag on it, that should do it. You don’t have to swing for the fences on this one.”

  This guy had no idea who he was dealing with. I only dreamed big. “That’s doable.”

  We shook hands and parted on a maybe.

  “Can you get away?” I asked Jagger as we headed back to the gallery. A cluster of chairs framed the front window. Jagger hosted parties after hours. From the chairs, I could see into the consignment shop. I’d keep that in mind when I placed my desk. If I got stuck for inspiration, all I’d have to do was look at Jagger.

  He shook his head. His hands were full with my new lamps. “I don’t like shutting down the gallery unless I absolutely have to.”

  Day one of normal life with Jagger. Seeing each other wasn’t a special occasion anymore. It hurt a little bit. “I’ll go grab lunch. Any suggestions?”

  “Explore the neighborhood. Find your new favorite place.”

  “What are you in the mood for?” I had no idea what I’d find. I would’ve liked him to come along for my inaugural trip around the block so I could get a peek into his routine.

  “Whatever you bring back.” Jagger held up one of the lamps in front of a group of portraits. It was an installation I’d never seen before, and much prettier and more feminine than Jagger’s usual aesthetic. “What were you planning for these?” he asked.

  I shrugged. The lamps were pink, about fifty years old, and a little over the top. “Not sure yet. But I couldn’t walk away from them. Eventually a project will come along that they’ll be perfect for.”

  “Can I use them in here?”

  “Absolutely.” I couldn’t wait to see what he’d do. I was almost tempted to stay and watch, but my stomach rumbled. We weren’t used to a schedule yet, and we’d run too late to consider having breakfast before work.

  I gave Jagger a quick peck on the cheek. “All right, I’m headed out to wander the streets of Miami aimlessly until I find food. If I don’t come back by dinner, I died of starvation.”

  That was a little dramatic. I’d just spent a week with Raven, and she’d rubbed off on me. Something completely different rumbled inside me. Homesickness. I missed my baby. Thanksgiving was a long way off.

  “Impossible.” Jagger grinned. “Go. I want to see the city through your eyes.”

  My last home was in Georgetown. I picked the neighborhood for its energy. I’d done hard time in the suburbs for too many years, and I loved everything about the city. The choices, the diversity, and the promise that something was always happening. Didn’t get any of that when I was married. And while Wynwood was completely different than anywhere I’d lived before, it had a lot in common with Georgetown. The vibe and the feeling that anything was possible. I wanted to be here. This was the perfect place to restart my design business. It was a privilege to have a second chance, to start fresh. All those things I wished I’d known in the beginning of my career were painfully obvious now.

  I knew better than to think I couldn’t fail.

  After I stopped in a couple of boutiques, I found a Peruvian restaurant. That was the winner, since I knew nothing about Peruvian food. Two orders of ceviche to go later, and I headed back to the gallery.

  Jagger’s face lit up when he opened his lunch container. “Good work.”

  “Is that where you would’ve sent me if you’d given me any suggestions?”

  “Nice try.” He chuckled. “It’s no fun if I tell you all the good stuff. I want to see the look in your eyes when you discover it for yourself. And you might find something I never considered.”

  “I hope you have some room in your closet, because I’ll be dropping some serious cash at those stores down the street.” It was easy to forget I was technically unemployed. I could rent any space I wanted, but it didn’t matter until someone hired me to do something.

  “We’ll make it work.” He leaned back in his chair. “What do you think of the lamps?”

  Jagger either worked at the speed of light or I’d been gone longer than I realized. He’d rearranged the exhibit, added a couple of the chairs to it and made it look like someone’s living room.

  “You better watch out, or I’ll be trying to hire you again.”

  “I’ve got a job. But I could always use a new neighbor.” Jagger cleaned up the take-out bags. “I have a couple new exhibits that I’m working on, and I’d love your opinion.”

  The space had been a store at one point, and the back room lacked the glamour of the gallery space. Compared to the rest of the studio, it was unfinished, dark, and depressing. But it made sense, considering Jagger’s preferred medium.

  “Why don’t you work out front?”

  “I don’t want anyone to see the new work until it’s ready. First Friday is coming up, and I’m psyched you’ll be h
ere for it. The artists come, we drink wine—“

  “Sangria?” I raised an eyebrow.

  He laughed. “Now we do. Depending on what we’ve got for the month, I order food to go with it. I try to get a band or a DJ in here. People come to see what’s new. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “Do they buy anything?” I asked. He never mentioned sales. We’d agreed when we worked together for all of five minutes to never talk about money. But now we lived together, and it was important.

  Jagger hesitated. “Sometimes.” He picked up a painting and considered it for a moment before saying anything else. “There’s a lot going on in the front room. The existing exhibits, the traffic from the street . . . Back here, I can block everything out. It’s me and the art. Like it used to be.”

  I understood. “When I get in the zone, I forget everything else, too.” I had a hard time finding my way back to the gallery because I’d been so lost in thought about how to make the space next door work. “I’m thinking about having a little boutique. Something curated, like what you’ve got, with furniture. It would give my clients a real-life taste of what I could do for them. Pictures don’t always do it justice. This way, they’d be able to sit on it and see what it’s really like to live on the stuff. But if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to come and go as I pleased. I need to hire someone anyway, to help me with all the bookkeeping and crap that I hate. That type of stuff makes me miss the production company.”

  I didn’t miss being on TV anymore. I missed having an almost limitless budget and anything I wanted to work with at my disposal. But it made me lazy. My original thought, when I pitched Second Chances, was to show regular people how to bring a little luxury into their lives. I hadn’t forgotten that.

  Jagger put down the painting and approached me. I’d been sitting on the one stool he kept in the backroom. We automatically got lost in a dizzying round of kisses. Working so close to each other we were bound to get distracted. I never wanted this feeling to fade.

  “Why don’t you call Shannon?” he asked.