Page 35 of Tangled Kisses
Not going to happen.
Every sex worker has rules, certain deeds they won’t do, no matter how good the money is for that particular trick. Mine are simple: no anal, no oral without protection. Andnokissing. Not even a peck.
It might seem odd to some that I’ll let a stranger claw at me, leave scratches down my back, beg for words I don’t mean—yet the one thing I won’t give them is a kiss. Kissing is intimate. It’s not just skin meeting skin, it’s breath and need and truth shared in the smallest space.
It’s so personal, and it’s the only thing I have left in reserve for the woman I love.
Delilah wants to be worshipped, called goddess, praised like every curve is divine. Before Reese, I could play the role. Now the words tastes like ash, because there’s only one woman I want to worship. I used to give Delilah everything she asked for. Now? I can’t. What she wants isn’t mine to give anymore.
And in every dream I have of Reese, it doesn’t start with sex. It starts with her lips against mine, soft and sweet, and me finally letting myself believe I could belong to someone.
Believe I was enough.
Not that there’s a chance in hell Reese will ever want me back. Something shifted after that night at my cabin—when she’d been softer, almost shy, like maybe she felt it too. But the next day? She barely looked at me. I’d just come in from repairing a fence, sweat and dirt clinging to me, after walking a mile round trip to cut those flowers for her. A bouquet bigger than my pride, because I wanted her to smile the way she had when we found that valley.
And what was the first thing out of her mouth? Sabine. My ex. Her saying I was part of the welcome wagon, like the flowers were nothing more than a trick I pulled for every new resident.
Who knows what all Sabine said to her. Maybe that’s why Reese put the armor back on, why she looked at me like I was just the job again. Like I’d never be more than the man who gets paid to make women feel special.
But the truth?
Reese is the most intimate I’ve gotten with a woman in years, and all I’ve done is kissed her cheek. Even that felt like an erotic act—something equal parts sensual and innocent. Why? Because we exchanged no money. Reese isn’t buying my affection, though I give it freely.
Never in my life have I felt this way. I’ve had plenty of crushes and lustful urges, but my experience with Reese is next level.
And I can’t let her go.
Not yet.
I shut my closet door and release a long sigh. “I can’t do this. Not anymore.”
“Let me guess? Another stomach bug?”Capri regards me with a cool stare from the other side of her mahogany desk.
I swipe my hat off my head and settle into a chair opposite her, turning it absently in my hands. “Shit, Capri, I don’t know.”
She leans back in her chair and nods. “Look, I know this has never been your thing, but you’re damn good at it, and you have a damn good reason to continue.”
“What if I have a better reason to stop? You mentioned needing a new maintenance guy here.”
Capri arches one brow, flicking her pen against a ledger before setting it down. “That doesn’t pay nearly what an escort does, particularly not with your caliber of clients. You’d have to work eighty hours a week to come close.”
“I can do that, but I can’t do this anymore.”
She exhales, a sharp sound through her nose, then swivels her chair just enough to look out the window toward the barns. “Oh, Griffin, you are making your life very difficult.”
“Are you going to fire me?”
She snorts out a laugh and sips her tea. “Sounds like you beat me to it. Tell me honestly—what brought on this change?”
I meet her gaze. She already knows the reason. Hell, she knew that first day when she volunteered me to take Reese on the tour. But she needs to hear me say it aloud. Maybe she knows I need to admit it to myself as much as to her. “Everything is different with her.”
“Does Reese know this? I’d hate to see you throw away your paycheck for a possibility.”
My boots scuff against the hardwood as I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees, hands clasped tight like I’m holding the words in place. “She doesn’t know. Not yet. I wasn’t planning on pursuing her until I was sure it could be real. But she will know—because I can’t keep this to myself forever.”
Capri sets her cup down and folds her arms across her chest. “So, you’re out?”
“Well, I’ll take that maintenance job, if it’s still open, and I’m fine with the escorting part of the gig, just nothing physical. Like Dorian.”
