Page 43 of Tell Me Your Desires
This was fucked.
Jaimewas fucked.
She would be so disappointed in you!She swallowed down the emotion suddenly lodged in her throat. If she focused on that, Jaime would have had a panic attack before she’d had a chance to use the bathroom. She hadn’t had a panic attack in over a year now; she really didn’t want to get back into the swing ofthat.
Jaime wanted to reach out and touch Anya’s skin. She wanted to shift closer and inhale the scent that had enveloped her throughout the night. Only Jaime couldn’t. She was frozen in place by the fear of what lay ahead. Whether that was thoughts of Taylor, the attachment to Anya, or the case… fear paralyzed her. Jaime had never been good when it came to sorting through feelings and emotions; she preferred to bottle shit up and wait for it to go away on its own, but something told her it wouldn’t be as simple as that here. Because as she studied every inch of Anya’s profile, her heart constricted.
Why?
Oh, the why was easy. Because Jaime knew she felt far more for Anya than she could allow herself. This woman was complex—anyone could see that, but Jaime wanted to peel back those layers. She wanted to understand Anya on a level different from this. Sure, sex was great. With Anya, it was mind-blowing. But Jaime knew that she, herself, would grow to want more. Now that a connection to one another had been fully established, Jaime didn’t know whether to work through this…or run a fucking mile as quickly as she could.
“I have no significant other. I certainly wouldn’t be sleeping with clients if I was involved.”
Jaime rolled back over onto her back as those words filtered through her mind. When they settled—a painful tug deep in her stomach present—Jaime realized that this wasn’t something she could hope for.
Anastasia Grant wasn’t going to feel the same way. She…couldn’t. It was quite simple that Anya chose her job over her personal life. What other explanation was there as to why she would choose to work at a brothel rather than have a love life and someone she could be with each night?
Client.
Jaime’s heart sank. That’s all this was. A client…arrangement.
She carefully climbed from the bed, taking her phone from the floor as she tried to place all of her belongings. Most of it was out in the living room, her underwear the only thing she could find as she scanned the bedroom. As she crept out, Jaime glanced back and closed the door. She didn’t want to wake Anya. She’d already done that yesterday morning, so she tiptoed towards the stairs and took them slowly.
Get dressed. Get out. Find the fucking killer!
She quickly dressed, stopping to give herself a moment or two to breathe. Jaime hated leaving things unsolved, but it would be for the best. Anya would agree once she woke up. Jaime moved towards the door, patting the pockets of her blazerto check she had her car keys, and then stopped again. She looked up the stairs, taking her wallet from her pants pocket.
As much as she wanted to leave without saying goodbye, Jaime couldn’t. She just needed one last look, one last inhale of Anya’s scent. One last memory.
She took the stairs quietly again and crept into Anya’s bedroom. Jaime had a bad feeling about this but still decided to go through with it. She lowered all the cash she had on her to the nightstand and leaned down, placing a kiss on Anya’s temple. She lingered and whispered, “You’re so beautiful,” then turned her back and left Anya sleeping peacefully.
Anya waiteduntil she heard the front door close before opening her eyes. A tear rolled over the bridge of her nose. Conflicting emotions battled for dominance within her. The ones winning at the moment were sadness and… was that shame? Anya hadn’t expected the night to turn out the way it had, but she’dthoroughlyenjoyed herself. She thought Jaime had, too. After that night in Lady A’s chambers, Anya had fantasized about what it would be like to make love to the beautiful detective.
“Make love,” Anya scoffed. Her eyes tracked to her nightstand, where a wad of money lay. Another tear. All this was to Jaime was a way to let off steam. If Anya had known this was a paid session, she would have been less… giving of herself. Lady A didn’t share her body the way Anya had with Jaime. Sex, yes. But the kissing, the touching, the tenderness? Clients didn’t get that. No matter how much they paid, they never got Anastasia Grant. But Jaime had, and it pissed Anya off. She felt…used.
Where had she gone wrong with Jaime? Anya’s mind drifted back to the night before. They’d eaten together and talked. Jaime had even fallen asleep, giving Anya the impression she’d felt comfortable enough with Anya to let her guard down. Was that all a ruse to get Anya to sleep with her? Fuck, all Jaime had to do was come to the club and ask for the ultimate package. She didn’t have to come to Anya’s home, her safe haven, and…taint it.
“Meow.”
Anya groaned. “Don’t start. I don’t need you judging me when I’m doing that enough for both of us.”
“Mow, meow. mew.”
“Yes, I know. I thought she was different, too.” Anya picked up the money and threw it across the room. Bills separated and floated down, taunting Anya. “Well, that was smart. Now you have to pick that shit up.”
“Meow.”
“I wasn’t talking to you. But if you want to do the honors, by all means,” Anya swept a hand dramatically towards the money. “Eat it if you want.”
She tossed the covers off her naked body. Somehow, being naked this morning felt far more scandalous to Anya, even though it was her typical sleeping attire. She felt…dirty.
“I’m going to take a shower.Don’teat the money. There’s no telling where it’s been.”
“Meow.”
“Fine. But if you get a bellyache, that’s on you. Just like being an idiot and falling into bed with someone who only cares to be my client is on me. How could I be so stupid to think Jaime thought of me differently?”
She kicked at a five-dollar bill and stubbed her toe on her bedframe. “Son of a fucking ass!”
