Authors: H.M. Ward
Looking over both shoulders, I concealed the phone, half looking at it and half hiding it. “You can’t take pictures like that, Jack!” My pink lips hung open, slightly shocked and very turned on.
He reached for the phone, trying to take it from me, a smile snaking its way across his lips.
“And why not?
When the model is this sexy, what’d you think the pictures would look like? Hiding you as a nun for a decade seriously threw me off, but this is what you are, Abby. This is what I see when I look at you.” He laughed, still trying to get the phone.
“But, Jack, they’re so dirty.” I held it away from him, feeling like I’d fall off his lap, but he held me tight. I flicked the screen, trying to see another picture, fascinated and afraid. The picture was dark, nearly solid black except for a rim light surrounding my upper body. It drew attention to my breasts, both taut nipples, my lashes lowered with full lips. I didn’t know who that girl was, but as I looked at her Jack glanced from the phone and back to me like he was seeing the same thing.
Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear he said, “Look at the next one,” I flicked the screen. The next picture was more sensual, more erotic and more beautiful. I gasped, not believing what I was seeing. I was there; I was at the shoot, but I had no idea I looked like this. The pit of my stomach twisted, delighted and nervous.
Jack spoke softly in my ear, “That’s what you do to me—when I see you and I can’t have you—that’s how you make me feel.” The phone felt like a brick in my hand. The portrait was everything, his longing, my desire—unmet, like we were when I first saw him sitting across the table from me as he stole my interview from Gus. The phone slid out of my hand and hit the floor. Our bodies inched together, my lips burning, wanting to feel his mouth against mine. We
leaned
in toward each other, lost in lust when the door to the galley swung open. I glanced down, heat rising to my cheeks. Standing, I slid off his lap and moved back to my seat.
Without a word, the waiter went to walk away, embarrassed, but Jack said, “Check.
Now.”
His blue eyes were locked on mine, not looking away as he said it. Those pictures made my head spin. They were the most erotic depictions I’d ever seen—and they were of me. It wasn’t just that they were
nudes,
it was
that they were evocative. Everything about them screamed of deep longing and sexuality unsurpassed.
My voice was thin, “Is that really how you see me, Jack? All the time?” my brows lifted, like I didn’t believe what I was saying. My hands were on the table in front of me strangling the helpless tablecloth in my death-grip.
Jack took my hands, running his thumb along the back of my hand, tilting his head. “There wasn’t a time when I didn’t see you like that. You’ve always been that way to me, Abby—an unattainable goddess.”
The room was silent, as he handed me the phone. Glancing down, I took it and flipped through more pictures, each more sensual than the last, lust building through the shoot—the way that it had been building in my body—until the final image was of the two of us together. Jack was holding me, and the expression on my face was completely sated.
My eyes glanced up and saw Jack, his gaze dark and wanting. He’d done it to me again, turned me into something I wasn’t. As if he could read my thoughts he said, “I just bring it out in you, Abby. This sensuality, this exquisite sexuality has always been there. It always will be. It’s part of who you are.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Our night was perfect.
Utterly divine.
We walked past the jeweler’s closed
shop,
heads tilted together, Jack’s arms around my waist. “I’ll take you here tomorrow. We’ll pick out the perfect ring for you.”
“Jack, this feels like a dream,” I snuggled in his strong arms. He pressed a kiss to my temple as we watched the lit window. Different rings, all amazing, filled the case.
Jack said, “I like that one. The one that looks
vintage
with the antique setting. It’s stunning, just like you.” And it was a stunning ring.
At least five carats.
I didn’t know how I felt about that, about Jack’s money. Even though I’d been back for a while, and seen him running his business, I still thought of him as the strapped guy that I knew in high school. He worked his ass off, like me, and neither of us ever had much. As if he sensed my thoughts, he said, “It’s our money now, Abby. What’s mine is yours. You won’t have to think about anything ever again. And
that church off. You never have to go back there again. I’m paying your loans off first thing in the morning.”
I laughed softly. The idea of telling the church to go to Hell was appealing. At the rate they were going, they were headed there anyway. Part of me wanted to fight with Jack, and resist. “They didn’t do it—they didn’t sign for the loans. I did. Those were my mistakes, Jack. I thought I could do it. I thought I could find a balance between idealism and reality, but there wasn’t one. I made all the wrong choices.”
Turning me in his arms so that I faced him, Jack took my chin in one hand, leaving his other on my waist, “Look at me, Abby. You made all the right choices. Everything you did brought us back together. Those decisions gave us a chance that we wouldn’t have had. I’d love you to tell them to screw off, that you don’t need them anymore. What that church did to you was...” he bit his lip, shaking his head. He softened his tone and continued, “They trapped you. They figured out a way to keep you indebted to them and trapped you. When you sold all their crap and gave the money to the poor, you blindsided them. They were a means, a way to bring you back to me. I can’t stand what they did to you, but there’s no way I’d wish it didn’t happen, because
without them, you wouldn’t be here with me now.” I breathed deeply, trying to let go of the emotions tied to that place.
Tears formed in my eyes, “If it was a good thing, then why do I feel like I failed? I didn’t save anyone. Seminary, all that debt, the last decade of my life—it was for nothing.”
Smiling softly, he pressed his lips to my forehead. Wiping away my tears, he said, “You saved me. Abby, I was so lost before you came back. Life was a never ending series of fake people hoping to get a piece of me. No one actually sees me as person. I’m a fucking bag of money, a means to an ends. The models do it, the business partners do it, the patrons do—everyone sees me the same way. I was sick of it. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I would have dropped a match on the place and walked away. It was that bad, Abby. But the day you showed up was the day my life started again. I know misery. I know about trying to do the right thing and having it come back and bite you on the ass. And I can promise you,
Abby,
all that misery you went through wasn’t for nothing. You told me a few weeks ago, if you saved one person, that was enough. Abby, I’m that person. You saved me.”
As he spoke I watched his eyes, his lips spilling his soul. I wanted to hear the words, and silence his painful story at the same time. I could tell that there was darkness lurking within him, something dark and desperate. I saw it in him during my interview. Jack seemed cold, distant. He wasn’t the boy I’d left behind all those years ago. But slowly, as days turned into weeks, I saw that boy was still inside of him. Jack began to melt, his hard edges smoothing. I didn’t realize that I was the reason until that moment.
Pressing my lips to his, I kissed him softly, tears in my eyes. I held him close, in front of the shop, feeling his hair in my hands. Smiling I said, “I love you so much.”
He glanced at me, grinning softly, “Come on, Mrs. Gray. There are some things I’d like to show you in my room.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
When we walked into the studio it was pitch black, but something seemed off. My eyes shifted through the shadows trying to see what was bothering me before Jack flipped the lights on. As he did so, we could see the files in the desk were dumped all over. Chairs were turned on their sides, papers were everywhere. The floor was covered in white paper, Galleria brochures, and a million other office supplies. Someone broke in.
Jack’s gaze narrowed, surveying the damage before he said, “Stay here. “ He took off into the back. I heard his footfalls disappear, leaving me in silence.
I flipped through the papers on the desk and the floor. They were random things to dump out, and when I pulled open the drawers, they weren’t empty. When Jack came back he was fuming. He held the Tiffany’s boxes in his hands and threw them on the desk. They landed with a thud.
“Stolen?” I asked. That jewelry was worth a small fortune. Anything from Tiffany’s was.
He shook his head, “No. That’s the problem. Something was taken, Abby, and they did this so I wouldn’t be able to tell what it was.” I looked around. The place was such a mess that it would take hours, possibly days, before it was all put back so we could tell what was gone.
“Call the cops, Jack. Tell them you have someone...”
His shoulders were tense. He snapped, dragging his hands through his hair as he looked around, “Tell them what? That one of my employees was messy? They didn’t break in, Abby. They had a fucking key.” Turning swiftly, he slammed his fist into the wall behind him. I winced. He looked over at me, “I wanted tonight to be perfect.” He shook his head, “I’m sorry.”
Walking to him, I stopped in front of him, and he wrapped his arms around me, “Tonight was perfect, Jack. It was completely perfect.” He looked down at me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Let’s sift through this stuff and figure out what they took. And in the meantime, call the locksmith and change every lock on this building, change every
code, every combination, until you figure out who’s doing this to you.”
__________
I called Kate and told her I was staying over. Her response was typical Kate, “If you sleep with him, you’ll lose your job, Abby. Tell me that you guys are just playing house, and not fucking each other’s brains out.”
“Kate,” I gasped, looking at the phone.
“Abby, tell me you didn’t! I recognize that tone, young lady...”
I snorted into the phone, “Young lady? Are you insane?
Fine.
I’ll tell you fast, but when Jack comes back I’m hanging up on you without another word. Yes, I’ve been sleeping with him all week. No one else is here. He’s having some business issues and we came home tonight after dinner and found out that someone broke in and stole something. We don’t know what yet.” Kate started to groan, obviously stuck on the first thing I said. I could hear Jack’s footfalls getting closer, “And Kate... he proposed. I said yes. You are going to wear the most hideous bridesmaid’s dress I can find. Not only will it have a
big butt bow, but I’m going to make you wear a tiara on your head.” I clicked END CALL and put the phone down right as Jack walked into the room. He noticed the huge smile on my face.
“What’s my beautiful girl grinning about?” he asked. His arms were full of gear. He’d been sorting through boxes, trying to figure out what was missing. It was well past midnight and I was totally useless with this task. Only Jack would know what was missing.
Holding my arms behind my back, I grinned at him, “Oh, nothing.
Just teasing Kate.
She was being awful so I told her she was going to be the ugliest bridesmaid ever. Then I hung up on her.”
Jack grinned as I giggled. He dropped his gear and walked back toward me, draping his hands around my waist, he pulled me close, “Abby, that was evil,” he said totally deadpan, then added, “and hysterical. Kate’s still crazy, right? She’s still the anti-dress, I-hate-girlie-crap girl that she used to be, isn’t she?”
I burst out laughing, nodding,
“
Yup!” My phone buzzed. Kate’s number lit up the screen.
Watching me, he asked, “Are you going to answer that?”
I shook my head slowly, my fingers trailing along his collar, feeling the skin underneath. He blinked slowly, as if trying to focus, “Then let’s do something else. I can find out what’s missing in the morning.” With that he swept his hand under me, and cradled me in his arms. I could feel every curve of his strong chest pressing against me. Jack moved out of the studio, through a door that connected to the outside. He held me, kissing me softly, as he rounded the studio to a small cottage—his home.
He fumbled with the knob, but got it open and carried me inside. “Stay with me tonight? No work, no studio.
Just me and you, in my bed?”
His voice was
deep,
his words traveling through me and making me feel weak.
I nodded. The cottage was like a studio apartment. It had a kitchenette and a big white bed. Everything was white.
White on white on white.
Jack lowered me onto the bed, kissed my head, and stood. Looking down at me, he pulled his shirt over his head, saying, “This was supposed to be the studio. I flipped things because I wanted the gallery and the studio together. It’s kind of small for the two of us, but we can do anything you like to it. This is your home now, Abby. This is our bed. And you’re going to be my wife.” As he spoke, he removed his clothing
all the while keeping his hot gaze on mine. When his eyes slide over my prone form, he smiled like he couldn’t help it.