by J Q Anderson
My heart constricts.
Dread fills me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I really can’t. I have to go.” Before I can answer she’s dashing back to the table. I catch up with her as she’s shrugging on her coat. She looks shaken and my mood sinks deeper. Well done, Jake. You sick deuche. I reach for her hand and wrap mine around it. She doesn’t pull it away, but doesn’t make eye contact either. She just stares at my hand over hers.
“I’m sorry. I got carried away. Please don’t leave,” I say, hoping she won’t realize the full extent of my assholeness and maybe I’ll have a shot in hell that she’ll reconsider. She shakes her head.
“It’s fine. It’s just…” she sighs. “I shouldn’t be here.”
I squeeze her hand under mine. “Natalia. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m a dick. I knew where the boundaries were. I promise it won’t happen again. Will you stay?”
“Jake—”
“Look. I don’t want things to end like this. I enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. Let’s have a coffee, then we’ll go.”
She looks up and eyes me for a moment, assessing my sincerity, I think.
“Okay,” she mutters. And suddenly I can breathe again.
I order two espressos and get the check so we can go whenever she wants. Hoping to ease the weirdness between us, I give her a few pointers for her swimming training so she can practice while I am gone. When I tell her we should make plans to meet in four days when I come back for my guy’s ski trip, she looks down at her hands.
“I don’t know Jake. I mean, you’ve helped me so much, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why? Because of what happened tonight?”
She nods. I close my eyes and let her sincerity slice me open.
“Natalia. In the last couple of days, I’ve felt something. A guy can hope.” I smile.
Asshole. She should punch me.
But she doesn’t. She just looks up at me and her eyes are full of regret. It makes me want to crush her into a kiss.
“That’s just it,” she murmurs. “It’s wrong. I love Marc. Besides,” she says, looking straight at me with a harder expression. “Two days ago, you were here with another woman. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
This again.
I run both hands through my hair. “I told you. Tamara and I are not in a relationship.”
“She was all over you, Jake. How can you just turn that off and switch to someone different?” She looks mad.
“Because she and I have an arrangement.”
She frowns. “What kind of arrangement?”
Shit. I let out a heavy sigh. Fuck it.
“Tamara is a client.”
“What?”
“We see each other every two or three weeks. We go on trips like this, parties, dinners, or just hang out. She doesn’t want a relationship and neither do I.”
She frowns and is looking at me as if I’m suddenly someone different. “You said client.”
I nod.
“Are you…”
I nod again.
“Jesus. Is that even legal?” She’s embarrassed. I couldn’t have made things more uncomfortable for her if I’d tried.
“Natalia,” I say, and her eyes immediately meet mine. Every time I say her name she reacts this way, like she can’t help it. I like that. I like it way too much. She shakes her head as if she’s trying to rid herself of my spell.
“How can you do that? I can’t even imagine being with someone I don’t care about.”
“It’s a matter of perspective. I do care about Tamara. I just don’t want a relationship, and neither does she. It is a consensual agreement between two people that know exactly what they want. No false promises, no unmet expectations. It’s simple. It works for me and it makes her happy.”
She shakes her head again. She’s trying to figure this out.
“Natalia. I am no different than any other single man. I date who I want. I just don’t make bullshit promises that I won’t fulfill.”
She narrows her eyes. “You get paid to have sex with them. That is not normal.” She’s whispering, but her eyes are blazing. Her sudden anger surprises me and in a much deeper level, I think I like the fact that she is angry.
“Like I said.” I shrug. “It is a matter of perspective. I am not taking advantage of anyone. At the end of the day everybody is happy.”
She watches me for a long moment. I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. I smile and she tries to scowl. She is mad, but I just made her smile.
“It’s not funny. I want to be mad a you, Jake.”
I laugh. “Why?”
“You’re insanely good looking. You don’t need to do that.”
I grin. “Insanely good-looking, huh?”
She blushes scarlet and it is hard to resist.
“I get exactly what I want, Natalia.”
“Everyone wants to love and be loved. You can’t say you are above that.”
“I am not compromising my values. Stop trying to rationalize it.”
“How many clients do you have?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Curious, aren’t we?”
She shrugs, but she’s pouting.
“Three at the moment. Usually no more than four.”
“And you can make a living? You must be good.” She frowns and I laugh out loud. She realizes what she’s just said and blushes crimson. She’s adorable.
“Nobody’s ever asked for their money back.” I grin and her blush deepens. “So now that you find me appalling and I’m no threat to your engaged status, will you agree to meet again for our next swimming lesson?”
She looks out at the glimmering lights of the mountain, as if the answer is waiting out there somewhere. Then meets my eyes.
“I don’t find you appalling, Jake. I just… I don’t understand. But whatever. I’m not judging. I can’t hang out with you like this anymore. I’m engaged. It feels wrong. Like cheating… It’s better if we leave things as they are.”
Once again her sincerity floors me. Despite what she says I am sure she is repelled by my confession, yet I can tell she felt something for me. Fuck, Jake. Way to make a mess of things. The sudden need to see her again invades me. I have to find a way. Right now I’m losing her.
I rake my brain for something useful. She’s proved me wrong in every way possible and that makes the pull that brings me to her so much stronger. I know I have no right. And yet, I can’t let go.
“Shall we?” she says, and I am free falling. No lifeline.
I stand up and we walk out.
Outside, the valet signals to a taxi parked a few feet away.
“Can we ride together?” I ask.
She glances at her watch. “Sure. It’s late. I think I’m safe from the paparazzi.”
During the car ride, she is quiet. I scramble for something to say, an excuse to see her again, but come out empty. At least I know she’ll be here when I come back in a few days, but I’ll be sharing a villa with two other guys and it will be harder to get time alone with her.
When we get to back the lodge it’s after midnight. I walk her to the employee entrance, now deserted. The runs are closed. In the mountain, faint lights illuminate the chairlift casting a ghostly glow over the snow. She shivers in her coat, her breaths coming out in swirls of vapor.
I want to hug her.
“So… I guess I’ll see you.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
I’m desperate.
I’m falling.
She turns to leave, but I pull her in and envelope her in my arms. She takes in a sharp breath but doesn’t push me away. Hope explodes inside me like the fourth of July.
“It was really, really nice meeting you, Natalia. I will be back here in four days. We can finish our lessons then.”
“Jake…” she whispers. Her eyes are closed.
“You take care.” I press a kiss on her forehead, then turn around, feeling half of me is still where
she’s standing.
Chapter 11: Natalia:
I’m lying on my back, sprawled out naked on Jake’s bed.
What am I doing on Jake’s bed?
From the other side of the room, he saunters toward me. He, too, is gloriously naked. I bite my lip in appreciation. God, he’s beautiful. In the dim light of the moon, every one of his muscles is outlined. He stands at the foot of the bed, drinking me in. My heart is beating so fast I have to close my eyes for a second and remind myself to take a breath.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, and I smile because that’s exactly what I am thinking about him at the moment.
“Come here, Jake.” My voice is laced with want.
A winning smile stretches on his face as he lowers himself to me. He kisses me, slowly, and it is so bewitching I can’t concentrate on anything but that perfect mouth molding to mine. His lips move to my jaw and down to my neck, his tongue exploring every inch of me with sensual precision, torturing me. He continues his journey south and I squirm. He smiles against my stomach, but doesn’t stop. Fire flares inside me and I clench the sheet at my sides. His hands rake my thighs, caressing me with the tips of his fingers. He then grips my legs at the knees and spreads them farther apart. Damn. I gasp as his tongue slips between my legs.
“Jake,” I cry. But he is relentless. His expert tongue slides in and out of me, torturing me, driving me insane. God, is it possible to feel this much. He doesn’t stop and I’m already climbing, panting, clutching his hair as I moan a pleading. He then slips his fingers inside me, swirling them as his tongue pushes me beyond anything I’ve ever experienced.
And I’m lost.
I come like a freight train, screaming his name. He’s immediately on top of me and thrusts inside me before I can take a breath. His mouth smothers mine and he starts to move. God. He fills me completely as he rocks in and out of me. I’m in ecstasy. The way he moves is inebriating and even though I’m spent I completely surrender. It’s heaven and hell all at once. My body is exhausted and yet, I want more.
I want all of him.
I start to climb again and he groans in appreciation. The sound ripples through me and I clench my hands in his hair, pressing myself against him. He moves faster, faster, and I start tightening again. Jesus.
“That’s right, baby. Let go.” His low, hoarse voice is my undoing and I explode around him, weightless. Free.
There’s nothing else.
Just Jake.
He rolls onto his back. We are both panting. Sweat and sex in the air. It’s intoxicating and I smile because I’ve never been happier.
He then turns on his side, propping up on his elbow. He’s smiling at me. I’m smiling at him.
“That will be two thousand dollars,” he says.
I wake up with a jolt.
What the hell?
I look around the room, disoriented. I am breathing hard and my tank-top is drenched in sweat. Jesus. I’m still trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I close my eyes and press my forehead to my palm, rubbing off the flashes of the still vivid dream.
When I finally open my eyes, the nightstand clock tells me it’s nine in the morning.
Shit.
I have never had a wet dream before and I am suddenly embarrassed. Good thing Dani is not here and Jake’s most likely gone by now.
Jake.
A memory of his lips grazing my neck while we were dancing flashes in my mind, sending goose bumps down my arms. I push it away. Dammit. This is a runaway train. I need to see Marc.
I open my laptop, my hands unsteady from the dream, and get on the airline website. Whatever it will cost me, I am buying a ticket to Los Angeles. I need to see Marc this weekend. The fares are astronomical, but the blood still pulsing behind my ears convinces me it’s the right thing to do. If I can get one of the other girls to switch shifts with me I can leave as soon as tomorrow.
I decide I have a good chance of getting my shift covered and buy a ticket for tomorrow night. I want to text Marc so he can pick me up at the airport, but then resolve to surprise him. I can take a cab for the 5 mile ride to his home in Manhattan Beach. I know he will be at home all weekend preparing for a presentation. He works way too much and before pitches he doesn’t go out at all, so it’s almost a given he will stay in, even though it will be Friday night when I arrive.
Ten minutes later I am booked on the 3:45 pm flight that will get me to LAX by seven in the evening.
I can breathe.
Dani startles me as she barges into the room dressed in workout clothes. She frowns and pulls out one of her earphones.
“What the hell?”
“What?”
“You look… I don’t know. Weird. Unhinged. Wait.” Her eyes widen. “Is it in any way related to last night? OMG tell me right now.”
“Dani.” I frown. “No. I told you. Last night was just… dinner.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t believe you. Spit it out.”
I get up from the chair and plop back on the bed. “I need to see Marc. I am going crazy.”
“I knew it!”
“Dani. Stop. I’m not joking. This sucks. I was happy with everything until I met Jake.”
“Do you like him? I mean, who would blame you. He’s fucking gorgeous.”
I let out a long sigh. “I don’t do that, Dani. You know me. I don’t check out other guys. There’s always been just Marc.”
I look up at her and her forehead is creased, but she’s biting her tongue. It doesn’t matter because I already know what she thinks. She thinks this is good.
“I bought a ticket to Los Angeles for tomorrow.
“You what?”
I nod. “I need to see him, Dani. I need Marc to erase all this thoughts I have about Jake.”
“So you do like him. This is what all this is about. Holy shit. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I don’t know. It’s not even really Jake. It’s the fact that I allowed myself to be swayed by someone that is not Marc.”
“It is Jake, Natalia. He’s goddamn beautiful.”
I shake my head. “No. Jake and I would never work.”
“Why?”
“Because. It just wouldn’t.” I don’t want to tell Dani what I know about Jake. She wouldn’t tell anyone, but for some reason it feels demeaning toward him.
Dani sighs out loud and heads to the shower. “Lane will be happy to swift shifts with you,” she says from inside the bathroom. “She needs Monday and Tuesday off and Sarah told her to find someone herself. The schedule is packed.”
The rest of the day I am restless. I work out, pack my bag for tomorrow and work my shift with Dani and Zack. Lane has agreed to switch shifts with me and I can’t wait until tomorrow. I am glad Jake has already left and that I didn’t run into him. The way he looked at me last night as he said goodbye still burns in my chest. I need to ‘deJake’ myself and Friday can’t come soon enough.
It is a little after seven in the evening when I finally get off the plane. I have only a carry-on so that saves me time. At the curb, I hail a taxi and give the driver Marc’s address. I shift in my seat with anticipation. I wonder what Marc is doing right now and how he will react to my impromptu visit. I miss him. A weekend alone with Marc is what I need.
Twenty minutes later I pay the driver and shoulder my duffel bag. I have never really liked Los Angeles. On the times I visited Marc I always got that feeling of the morning after the party, cloudy minds foggy with ecstasy and smog. Marc lives in Manhattan Beach, a trendy town that few can afford. I find it a bit too crafted, but I love the beach, so I’m hoping it will grow on me.
I look up at Marc’s home on The Strand and smile. The evening is barely cool compared to Aspen, the air deliciously saturated with the salty scent of the ocean and seaweed. My heart kicks my chest and starts beating faster because the lights just went on upstairs.
Taking a long swig of evening air I stride up the short steps to the front door.
I ring
the bell, bouncing on the tips of my toes. The lights go on in the hallway. Most of the walls in Marc’s multi-million dollar home are paneled with glass, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean from pretty much every corner. The glass by the front door is frosted for privacy so I can’t see him. I smile when I hear footsteps padding closer.
The door swings open and I’m immediately confused. My smile vanishes and I frown.
“May I help you?” A Barbie-like chick with lips that are way too plump to be real is staring at me with an arched eyebrow. I open my mouth with a dozen scenarios running through my head as to why this half-naked woman is opening the door to my fiancée’s home.
“Well?” She whines. Her lips make me think of a butthole and I suddenly want to laugh out loud. Then my smile fades as I take a closer look at her attire. Her legs are bare under the shirt she’s wearing that goes down just below her hips.
His shirt.
I know it is his because I bought it for him at The Who concert last year in L.A.
My eyes slowly travel up as anger unfolds from within me. I clench my teeth and meet her puzzled expression with a deadly glare. If my eyes were machine guns they’d be firing crystals into her.
“Where’s Marc?” I mutter, closing my hands into fists to derail the impulse to clutch them around her over-tanned whore neck.
“Um.” She frowns and looks around behind her shoulder.
A second pair of footsteps approaches. This time they belong to Marc.
“Who is it Bab—” His sentence is left hanging from his half-open mouth as he stares at me with wide eyes. His face blanches and it looks like he’s forgotten how to breathe.
“Hey, Babe,” I say, glaring at him as the last of the oxygen leaves my body. I feel like I am going to pass out right here on his doorstep. Or throw up. I hope it’s the latter and that it leaves a huge mess for him to clean.
“Nati,” he finally says and my stomach churns in disgust. I don’t want him to say my name.
Ever. Again.
Butt lips-girl raises her palms and turns around toward the stairs. I narrow my eyes, watching her whore-ass take the steps two at a time. Yeah, you run.
