His Gift 1(16)

Then Jake turned to face me, and I felt my cheeks burn.

I was no better than her. Worse, maybe. Right then and there I would have done anything he wanted. Sucked his fingers, came all over him, I would have sunk to my knees in front of him like a goddamn pet. Just for the way he looked at me with desire in his eyes.

Was that terrible? He chose me.

“So you weren’t my gift.”

“It appears that way,” I said.

I was trying to be funny, but it’s hard to be funny when your voice is trembling so much you can hardly breathe.

“This was a misunderstanding,” he said.

I frowned. He was polite. Too polite.

“It appears that way,” I said again.

I didn’t want this man. I wanted the Jake who had shoved me against a wall and made me come so hard I couldn’t see straight. But now, Jake didn’t even touch me as he moved by.

“But you enjoyed it?”

He looked at me from under lidded eyes.

“Enjoyed it?”

“What I did with you.”

My core ached at his words, but I pressed my lips together and answered as smoothly as possible.

“I can take care of myself. I would have stopped you if…”

The hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. It cut off my words and made me sputter.

“If… That is…”

“Excellent,” he said, cutting me off with one wave of his hand. “Then we understand each other.”

Understand him? I doubted anyone understood Jake Carville. It was only sheer dumb luck that I had come into contact with him, and in a weird way, he had let me see more to him than probably most people would ever see. Those who weren’t escorts, that is.

We were alone together again. Just him, me, and the artwork. I breathed in deeply. There was probably still time for me to get to work. Probably.

But I didn’t want to leave him. The way he looked at me sent spasms of heat through my body. Echoes of the best orgasm I’d ever had. My first orgasm with a guy. If I didn’t have work, I’d want to stay here forever.

“You should go home,” he said, as though he had read my thoughts. “Tomorrow. Eight sharp. Or have I made a mistake in sending my gift away?”

I shook my head. The lump in my throat tasted like bitter chocolate, the sweet taste hidden inside if only I could get past the darkness. I would come back, I knew it. Even if I had to bribe Andy to take my shift at the restaurant, or beg my boss for a sick day. Even if I had to get Steph to loan me another dress. There was something about him that had an irresistible draw to me.

“I’ll be here,” I managed to choke out.

“Excellent. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Get a good night’s rest.”

“Okay. You, too. I mean, I’ll see you too.”

I backed away from the gallery. Away from Jake Carville. He followed me to the door and I picked up my heels in one hand. I wasn’t about to stumble away from this man.

“Lacey?”

“Hm?”

The way he stared at me turned my skin into gooseflesh. His features looked darker staring out at me from the nearly-closed doorway.

“Tonight was an exception. I broke my own rules. That will not happen again. From now on, you are not allowed to disobey me at all. Understood?”

My tongue went dry as I thought about the orders he’d given me tonight, and what he might tell me to do tomorrow.





Chapter Eight



All of my emotions ran through me in a whirwind as I strode away from Jake Carville. I clutched five hundred dollars in one hand and my pair of high heels in the other. I felt dizzy.

I glanced at the time as I got into the elevator. It was nearly nine o’clock. Shit. I was going to be late for my second job. I had five minutes. Steph’s place was already five minutes away, and the bar was in the opposite direction. By the time I changed—

I couldn’t change. I would have to sprint to my new job in these clothes and pray that they didn’t care. Heck, maybe they’d be all about skimpy dresses. When I’d gone in to interview, the place looked seedy as a strip club.

The elevator plunged down, and I watched the lights of the city rise up around me. Rain pattered softly on the glass, and I realized that I would be running through the rain. The terror I’d felt on the way up was eclipsed by the terror I felt about losing my second job if I was late.

No. I wouldn’t be late. I wouldn’t.

I was racing so fast out of the building, I ran straight into Steph.

“Lacey, what’s going on? I was waiting for you, and then the cakes came out, and you still weren’t there, and it started to rain and I thought gosh, you don’t have an umbrella, I’d better come and see—”

“No time to talk,” I said, striding quickly down the sidewalk. Steph followed me, unsuccessfully dodging the mobs of people walking by. Her yellow-polka-dotted umbrella smacked a gutter, and she winced. “Come on! We have to run.”