The Arrangement 8
Page 1
CHAPTER 1
I’m pacing the floor of the hotel room, fuming. How could Sean say that? My fingers ball into fists, as I kick off each shoe and watch them fly across the room. Do whatever you want, he said. Damn right that I’m going to do whatever I want. Moving through the room quickly, I start packing my things, shoving them into the bag. The urge to scream has been building inside of me since dinner. It wasn’t Peter or Sidney—it was Sean.
I had my fork halfway to my mouth when Sean announced that he was leaving and heading out with Peter for a few days. When I first heard the news, I could only manage to blink at Sean. He didn’t invite me along, he didn’t tell me he was leaving, and the words he said made me so goddamn angry that I stormed away from the table like some sort of deranged drama queen—but I couldn’t sit there anymore. I would have smashed my plate over his head.
Sean watched me walk away and did nothing to stop me. He didn’t chase after me or call out for me to stop. He let me walk away without even glancing my way. There was no concern, no remorse. Do whatever you want.
I step into the bathroom, and try to grab all my stuff in one trip. I pile my make-up bag and hair stuff into my arms, and head to the shower to grab my conditioner. When I lean forward, everything tumbles out of my arms and skitters across the floor. I stand there for a moment and stare. This isn’t happening to me. It’s not real. I’ll go home later and Mom will be there. She can fix this.
She would have been able to…
My throat tightens to the point that I can’t swallow. My gaze blurs as my thoughts take off in a million different directions like dandelion seeds in the wind. I don’t hear Sean standing behind me until he speaks.
“What are you doing?” His voice is deep, demanding.
I don’t turn. My body remains rigid, with my shoulders too tense. If he touches me, I’ll punch him. Anger is swirling inside of me and mixing with dread. Things can’t end this way.
Something inside me snaps and I round on him. Before Sean can speak, I slam my open palms into his chest, shoving him as hard as I can. Sean barely moves. It’s like I’m no more substantial than a snowflake.
“What am I doing? Me? You’re asking me? How about you? What the hell are you doing?” Sean doesn’t answer, so I slam my hands into his chest again, harder this time. “Tell me! Don’t just stand there like that and act like nothing’s wrong!”
When my hands slam into his chest again, Sean grabs hold of my wrists and doesn’t let go. He yanks me toward him so my face is close to his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about or why you behaved as you did downstairs.”
I lean back, trying to pull away from him, but Sean won’t let me. “You know exactly what you did down there! You knew what would happen before you even said it—I could see it on your face—so don’t you dare lie to me now, and act like you have no idea why I’m mad. And, I swear to God, if you blame it on PMS, I will cut you.”
Sean represses a smirk at my threat. His blue gaze seems amused by the idea, as if I could possibly hurt him. The man is made of stone. Nothing hurts him, not anymore. “As delightful as it sounds to see you in a full blown rage, I hardly think your behavior is warranted.”
“You handed me off to Henry,” I hiss. “Don’t play this game with me Sean. Don’t stand there and pretend that you didn’t. You’re leaving me tomorrow and you didn’t say a damn thing about it.”
“I didn’t hand you off to anyone. You made your own decision and I made mine.” Sean drops my wrists, like he’s through with me, and walks out of the bathroom. He crosses the floor and pulls a bottle of liquor out of the bar. Everything about him is so calm, like nothing is wrong. He pours his drink as I stare at him in disbelief.
“What decision did I make, Sean? Because I don’t remember making one that included you leaving New York without me.”
“This is childish, Avery. We’re both adults here.” Sean turns toward me and leans back against the bar. The tumbler is loosely held in his hand, and everything about the way he stands says he doesn’t care. “And I did not hand you off to Henry Thomas. You chose him when you failed to choose me.”
“That’s what this is about? Are you insane? I didn’t choose Henry.”
“You didn’t choose me, did you? Or did I miss something?” Sean raises the glass to his lips and tips it back. The contents disappear in one gulp. Sean glances up at me from under his brow, waiting for an answer. My jaw is open and I hesitate. The words are there, but I can’t say them. I don’t want to hurt him. A smug expression spreads across Sean’s face. “I thought so.”
Fuck it. I stomp over to him and look up into his beautiful face. “You thought what? You thought that I’d be happy to be your live-in call girl? You thought that I’d be flattered that you offered to buy me?”
“I offered you more than that and you know it.” Sean sets down his empty glass firmly, and folds his arms over his chest as his eyes narrow into slits, like he’s ready to fight. Everything about him says that I should back off, that there is no way to win this argument, but I can’t shut up.
Rage is coursing through my veins so rapidly that I want to strangle him. “Did you? Because I didn’t hear that. You said that you wouldn’t share, that I’d be yours. You said you loved me and then you offered to buy me from Black. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that—be flattered? Swoon, fall at your feet, and thank you for hiring me to be your own personal sex slave. Wake up, Sean!”
Sean moves quickly. Suddenly his face is a breath from mine. “I offered to take care of you. I offered for you to be with me and you said no.”
“I did not.”
“You didn’t accept.”
“How could I?” The rapid exchange of biting words stops. We stare at each other a beat too long.
Sean tears his gaze away from mine and turns his back on me. He places his hands on the bar and hangs his head like this is impossible. “What more do you want from me, Avery?”
The moment feels fragile, like I’m stepping out onto a frozen lake that’s nearly thawed. I reach for him, but hesitate. I don’t touch his shoulder like I want. Instead, I say the words to his back. “I want everything. There is no in the middle, not for me. We can’t date for a while and try things out because of my job. You know that. It’s all or nothing.”
Sean glances over his shoulder at me with confusion pinching his face. “You want to marry me?”
The way he says it, like marriage is the last thing he’d ever do, crushes me. I hide the emotions before he sees them. I mask the way his words crush me one by one, but the truth is already on my lips and I’m telling him what I want before I can stop. “I want the little house with the hanging baskets full of flowers on the front porch. I want my office inside, so that I can be home with the kids. I want a big fluffy dog that digs up my roses, and I want the husband who kisses me on the cheek when he comes home. I know what I want Sean, and being a mistress doesn’t fit into it at all.”
“I see.” His gaze is locked with mine. Too many moments pass with words unsaid. The pit of my stomach grows colder and colder. It’s like I can sense him pulling away. My dreams aren’t his dreams. I can see it on his face. “And being a call girl does?”
“It’s temporary.”
He nods and his gaze falls to the floor. “I don’t have more to offer.”
I smile sadly at him. “Your offer wasn’t good enough, not for me. I can’t accept it no matter how I feel about you. I’m sorry Sean.”
CHAPTER 2
Sean nods, like he already knows. He glances up at me. “So, you’re back to being my call girl?”
I hate that he gives up so easily. If Sean gave even the faintest hint that we might end up together, my words would be different. But he doesn’t. I steel myself so that my answer comes out smooth and sure. “If that’s the best you can offer, then yes.”
Sean steps toward me and laces his hands around my waist. “I can’t do forever, Avery.”
“So,” I swallow hard. This feels like good-bye, like I’ll never see him again. The thought of not seeing him is too much. I push it away and manage to tug my lips into a slight smile. “So, tell me what you want tonight, Mr. Jones. I’m yours until morning.” The words sound light, but they fall out of the air like stones.
Sean works his jaw and watches me for a moment before answering. His eyes burn with words that I’ve never heard him say. I wonder if it’s real, or if I imagined how much he loves me. Thoughts like that won’t help, not now.
Sean tips his head forward, so it’s resting against mine. “I’ll tell you what I want, what I intend to do with you, Miss Smith.” There’s no remorse in his voice, no indication that he hates this as much as I do. I bet his mind is already some place dark, ready to tie me up again. I repress the urge to shiver as I think about it. Dinner was rough and this moment doesn’t make it better. No doubt, Sean plans on giving me a serious mind fuck as a going away present.
Sean dips his hands lower, cupping my butt and pulling us closer together. His lips are by my ear, his breath tickling me as he speaks. “I’m going to make love to you, Avery. You are going to be so sated that you’ll never be able to have sex again without thinking about this night. I promise you that.”
Surprised, I say, “I thought—”
“I know.” He kisses the top of my head, giving me the gentle touches that I so desperately crave. “I don’t want our last time together to be like that.”
I knew it was true before he said the sentence, but it still hits me like a two by four. “So, you’re leaving—after you help Peter—you’ll go back to California?”
“I’ve overstayed my visit, Avery. I should have left weeks ago.” Sean’s fingers press into my back as he slides them up to the zipper. He pulls it down and pushes the dress off my shoulders. The fabric slips down between us, pooling at my waist.
I’m pacing the floor of the hotel room, fuming. How could Sean say that? My fingers ball into fists, as I kick off each shoe and watch them fly across the room. Do whatever you want, he said. Damn right that I’m going to do whatever I want. Moving through the room quickly, I start packing my things, shoving them into the bag. The urge to scream has been building inside of me since dinner. It wasn’t Peter or Sidney—it was Sean.
I had my fork halfway to my mouth when Sean announced that he was leaving and heading out with Peter for a few days. When I first heard the news, I could only manage to blink at Sean. He didn’t invite me along, he didn’t tell me he was leaving, and the words he said made me so goddamn angry that I stormed away from the table like some sort of deranged drama queen—but I couldn’t sit there anymore. I would have smashed my plate over his head.
Sean watched me walk away and did nothing to stop me. He didn’t chase after me or call out for me to stop. He let me walk away without even glancing my way. There was no concern, no remorse. Do whatever you want.
I step into the bathroom, and try to grab all my stuff in one trip. I pile my make-up bag and hair stuff into my arms, and head to the shower to grab my conditioner. When I lean forward, everything tumbles out of my arms and skitters across the floor. I stand there for a moment and stare. This isn’t happening to me. It’s not real. I’ll go home later and Mom will be there. She can fix this.
She would have been able to…
My throat tightens to the point that I can’t swallow. My gaze blurs as my thoughts take off in a million different directions like dandelion seeds in the wind. I don’t hear Sean standing behind me until he speaks.
“What are you doing?” His voice is deep, demanding.
I don’t turn. My body remains rigid, with my shoulders too tense. If he touches me, I’ll punch him. Anger is swirling inside of me and mixing with dread. Things can’t end this way.
Something inside me snaps and I round on him. Before Sean can speak, I slam my open palms into his chest, shoving him as hard as I can. Sean barely moves. It’s like I’m no more substantial than a snowflake.
“What am I doing? Me? You’re asking me? How about you? What the hell are you doing?” Sean doesn’t answer, so I slam my hands into his chest again, harder this time. “Tell me! Don’t just stand there like that and act like nothing’s wrong!”
When my hands slam into his chest again, Sean grabs hold of my wrists and doesn’t let go. He yanks me toward him so my face is close to his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about or why you behaved as you did downstairs.”
I lean back, trying to pull away from him, but Sean won’t let me. “You know exactly what you did down there! You knew what would happen before you even said it—I could see it on your face—so don’t you dare lie to me now, and act like you have no idea why I’m mad. And, I swear to God, if you blame it on PMS, I will cut you.”
Sean represses a smirk at my threat. His blue gaze seems amused by the idea, as if I could possibly hurt him. The man is made of stone. Nothing hurts him, not anymore. “As delightful as it sounds to see you in a full blown rage, I hardly think your behavior is warranted.”
“You handed me off to Henry,” I hiss. “Don’t play this game with me Sean. Don’t stand there and pretend that you didn’t. You’re leaving me tomorrow and you didn’t say a damn thing about it.”
“I didn’t hand you off to anyone. You made your own decision and I made mine.” Sean drops my wrists, like he’s through with me, and walks out of the bathroom. He crosses the floor and pulls a bottle of liquor out of the bar. Everything about him is so calm, like nothing is wrong. He pours his drink as I stare at him in disbelief.
“What decision did I make, Sean? Because I don’t remember making one that included you leaving New York without me.”
“This is childish, Avery. We’re both adults here.” Sean turns toward me and leans back against the bar. The tumbler is loosely held in his hand, and everything about the way he stands says he doesn’t care. “And I did not hand you off to Henry Thomas. You chose him when you failed to choose me.”
“That’s what this is about? Are you insane? I didn’t choose Henry.”
“You didn’t choose me, did you? Or did I miss something?” Sean raises the glass to his lips and tips it back. The contents disappear in one gulp. Sean glances up at me from under his brow, waiting for an answer. My jaw is open and I hesitate. The words are there, but I can’t say them. I don’t want to hurt him. A smug expression spreads across Sean’s face. “I thought so.”
Fuck it. I stomp over to him and look up into his beautiful face. “You thought what? You thought that I’d be happy to be your live-in call girl? You thought that I’d be flattered that you offered to buy me?”
“I offered you more than that and you know it.” Sean sets down his empty glass firmly, and folds his arms over his chest as his eyes narrow into slits, like he’s ready to fight. Everything about him says that I should back off, that there is no way to win this argument, but I can’t shut up.
Rage is coursing through my veins so rapidly that I want to strangle him. “Did you? Because I didn’t hear that. You said that you wouldn’t share, that I’d be yours. You said you loved me and then you offered to buy me from Black. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that—be flattered? Swoon, fall at your feet, and thank you for hiring me to be your own personal sex slave. Wake up, Sean!”
Sean moves quickly. Suddenly his face is a breath from mine. “I offered to take care of you. I offered for you to be with me and you said no.”
“I did not.”
“You didn’t accept.”
“How could I?” The rapid exchange of biting words stops. We stare at each other a beat too long.
Sean tears his gaze away from mine and turns his back on me. He places his hands on the bar and hangs his head like this is impossible. “What more do you want from me, Avery?”
The moment feels fragile, like I’m stepping out onto a frozen lake that’s nearly thawed. I reach for him, but hesitate. I don’t touch his shoulder like I want. Instead, I say the words to his back. “I want everything. There is no in the middle, not for me. We can’t date for a while and try things out because of my job. You know that. It’s all or nothing.”
Sean glances over his shoulder at me with confusion pinching his face. “You want to marry me?”
The way he says it, like marriage is the last thing he’d ever do, crushes me. I hide the emotions before he sees them. I mask the way his words crush me one by one, but the truth is already on my lips and I’m telling him what I want before I can stop. “I want the little house with the hanging baskets full of flowers on the front porch. I want my office inside, so that I can be home with the kids. I want a big fluffy dog that digs up my roses, and I want the husband who kisses me on the cheek when he comes home. I know what I want Sean, and being a mistress doesn’t fit into it at all.”
“I see.” His gaze is locked with mine. Too many moments pass with words unsaid. The pit of my stomach grows colder and colder. It’s like I can sense him pulling away. My dreams aren’t his dreams. I can see it on his face. “And being a call girl does?”
“It’s temporary.”
He nods and his gaze falls to the floor. “I don’t have more to offer.”
I smile sadly at him. “Your offer wasn’t good enough, not for me. I can’t accept it no matter how I feel about you. I’m sorry Sean.”
CHAPTER 2
Sean nods, like he already knows. He glances up at me. “So, you’re back to being my call girl?”
I hate that he gives up so easily. If Sean gave even the faintest hint that we might end up together, my words would be different. But he doesn’t. I steel myself so that my answer comes out smooth and sure. “If that’s the best you can offer, then yes.”
Sean steps toward me and laces his hands around my waist. “I can’t do forever, Avery.”
“So,” I swallow hard. This feels like good-bye, like I’ll never see him again. The thought of not seeing him is too much. I push it away and manage to tug my lips into a slight smile. “So, tell me what you want tonight, Mr. Jones. I’m yours until morning.” The words sound light, but they fall out of the air like stones.
Sean works his jaw and watches me for a moment before answering. His eyes burn with words that I’ve never heard him say. I wonder if it’s real, or if I imagined how much he loves me. Thoughts like that won’t help, not now.
Sean tips his head forward, so it’s resting against mine. “I’ll tell you what I want, what I intend to do with you, Miss Smith.” There’s no remorse in his voice, no indication that he hates this as much as I do. I bet his mind is already some place dark, ready to tie me up again. I repress the urge to shiver as I think about it. Dinner was rough and this moment doesn’t make it better. No doubt, Sean plans on giving me a serious mind fuck as a going away present.
Sean dips his hands lower, cupping my butt and pulling us closer together. His lips are by my ear, his breath tickling me as he speaks. “I’m going to make love to you, Avery. You are going to be so sated that you’ll never be able to have sex again without thinking about this night. I promise you that.”
Surprised, I say, “I thought—”
“I know.” He kisses the top of my head, giving me the gentle touches that I so desperately crave. “I don’t want our last time together to be like that.”
I knew it was true before he said the sentence, but it still hits me like a two by four. “So, you’re leaving—after you help Peter—you’ll go back to California?”
“I’ve overstayed my visit, Avery. I should have left weeks ago.” Sean’s fingers press into my back as he slides them up to the zipper. He pulls it down and pushes the dress off my shoulders. The fabric slips down between us, pooling at my waist.
