• • •
I slowly walked down the hall, taking in every room he showed me.
The first thing I noticed is that someone slept in his first guest bedroom. There was a phone charger in the wall, as well as a jacket thrown across the chair.
It looked like his so I asked, "Do you sleep in here?"
He was quiet before answering, "Sometimes."
My eyes narrowed at him though he couldn't see, "Why?"
There wasn't a reason for anyone to sleep in the guest bedroom of their own home, save for the possibility that his master bedroom was being remodeled.
"Because I have the space."
He's lying.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't lie me to Jaxon."
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he turned to look at me, "I have no reason to lie to you. I pay for a home that no one else lives in besides me. I'm sure that give me the right to sleep in any room of my choosing."
As I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but honesty.
"Okay." I said simply, "Show me the room where you beat people."
"You're the only one who gets away with making jokes like that." He laughed while reaching for my hand, "And I told you I keep that part of my life separate."
"Oh I thought you just meant the paying for sex part."
We moved towards the master bedroom, "Do you really not have anything like Harry?"
"I really don't have anything like Harry here."
"So where do you do scenes?"
"I own another house. It's smaller, but has room for me to do things."
I wanted to know what those things were.
We finally stopped at his room, which he pushed open theatrically, making me laugh.
I walked inside, looking around for, well I don't really know what it was that I was looking for. I'd know when I found it.
Going over by the window, I sat on the chaise, waiting to see what he would do.
"I'm sure you'd like to take a shower?" He asked while nodding towards the bathroom.
I'd like for you to leave so I can search your room.
Nodding my head I tried to come up with a reason for him to leave the room, "Could you go get me a bottle of water?" I asked innocently.
"Sure."
I waited until I heard his footsteps depart down the hall before I ran on my tippy toes to his nightstand.
There was nothing in the first drawer, just pens and a journal. I was tempted to read it, but didn't want to waste time on something that could be nothing.
Continuing into the second drawer, I saw condoms and lube on the top. There were more things in there but I assumed it was his sex drawer and kept moving.
The final drawer is where things got interesting. I saw a picture of a younger Jaxon, his arm around a girl whose face was turned slightly away.
He was wearing a shirt that read "University of Virginia".
Since Jaxon told me his story, I knew that she was his girlfriend from college. I stared at the side of her face, wishing she would've turned around a little more towards the camera.
I wonder did he write on the back of it, I thought. I was about to pull the picture out of the frame when I heard footsteps coming back. Nearly dropping the picture, I hurriedly closed the drawer and practically threw myself back across the room.
Crossing my legs, I tried to look as casual as possible when he re-entered the room.
He silently handed me the bottle of water, sitting on the bed.
His posture was tense, as if he were annoyed by something. It wasn't any way he could have known I went through his things so I wasn't sure what was wrong.
"Are you okay?" I asked, looking for signs of anything that could point to the problem.
Sighing, he ran a hand over his face, "Sometimes I forget you're so young."
"What does my age have to do with anything?" I asked slightly offended.
"I'd like to think that a mature woman would ask me what she wanted to know rather than go through my shit."
So he did know.
I hadn't planned on him catching me, so I didn't know where to go with that part of the conversation.
Pushing that to the side for now, I focused on the other part of the sentence, the important part, "I am mature."
As you sound like a fucking child. Okay Kyser.
"So then tell me what you were looking for." He said as he finally looked at me, "Tell me what you were hoping to find."
Like I said before, I didn't know what I was looking for, and I was hoping to find nothing.
I shrugged my shoulders, "I wasn't looking for anything."
"Did you find anything?"
My gaze moved back to the nightstand, thinking about the picture.
"Why do you have a picture with your ex-girlfriend in your nightstand?"
The question came out before I even realized I'd asked it.
His tone was agitated. "Because we're still friends."
I was so tired of the 'friend' word. Even after his explanation, it seemed like he fucked all of his friends.
Therefore, he might still be having sex with the woman in the picture.
And it annoyed the living hell out of me.
"Do you still have sex with her?"
"Kyser you misunderstand the arrangement." He spat, "Who I fuck is none of your concern."
Oh.
The arrangement.
I'm sure the hurt showed on my face as his softened immediately.
"Kyser I-"
"I won't misunderstand the arrangement again." I cut him off, "I'll order an Uber."
"It's late. Just stay tonight and you can leave in the morning if you still want to."
"Nowhere in the contract does it state you have to care about my well-being Jaxon. Have a great night."
I was still only wearing his shirt but I didn't care. My feelings were hurt and I didn't want to be here anymore.
"At least let me take you to the hotel." He pleaded from behind me.
"Fine."
Grabbing my coat, we went to the car, the entire ride silent.
When we pulled into the parking lot, he put a hand on my wrist, "I spoke out of anger and I'm truly sorry Kyser."
"I'm sure you've heard what they say about an angry mouth." I replied while opening the door, "Enjoy the rest of your night."
The walk to my room seemed to take forever. When I saw the bed I collapsed onto it, staring at the ceiling.
A great night gone to shit.
________
let's chat: was jaxon being overly harsh by bringing up the arrangement, or should kyser not have gone through his stuff? i'd like to know what you guys think.
thanks for reading 💕
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Bound by Desire | Completed
General Fiction'So he wanted to have sex with me. My professor knows I'm an escort. And he wants to have sex with me.' Kyser "Desire" Moore was never supposed to be more than a statistic. With both parents gone and raised by her grandmother, she struggled not to...