The Arrangement

"And I enabled you, giving you chance after chance, ignoring the signs, agreeing to do things I never should have agreed to do, not trusting myself. And what happened Mason? Oh, wait, according to you, nothing. I just sat around hanging with the guys for a month, right?"

"Izzy, come on. People make mistakes. No one's perfect."

"I was drugged, beaten and raped for 27 days Mason. Say it. Just say it once and perhaps we might have a place to start."

But he didn't say it. He never did. He still insisted I'd made it up. And I was no longer interested in trying to convince him.

"I have to go Mason."
"Uh, Izzy..."
I rolled my eyes. And here was the other favorite part of my interactions with him.

"I'm not lending you any money, Mason. And I'm not putting you in touch with Kaden. She wouldn't talk to you anyway and she won't lend you any money."

"But babe, I'm in trouble..."

"Goodbye Mason."

And although I didn't really have the money for it, I hailed a cab to take me home just so I could get away from him.

*

Days later, I was going through my limited wardrobe, trying to figure out what to wear to meet Kaden. We'd agreed not to meet at my place and not to meet at the hotel. Neutral public places as we worked on slowing things down, not rushing into anything. So, we were meeting at a well-known cheese steak place on South Street and then walking over to take in an Indy film. Casual, relaxed, no pressure...that's what we were supposed to be aiming for.

I glanced over at the clock and then swore to myself, hurrying to the bathroom to shower. I'd wear jeans, of course, and a cute little silk top I'd found on sale a few weeks ago. It was gold and emerald, the pattern quite lovely...and it really brought out the color of my eyes. It only took me 30 minutes to get ready, but I knew I was going to be late. I'd fussed over my clothes for too long. I hightailed it out of the apartment, hoping the bus would not take forever to arrive.

I was 20 minutes late...and she was leaning against a lamppost, totally relaxed, waiting for me. God...she really did look good. She was wearing all black, jeans and a Henley...I don't think my memory did her justice. She was so much better in real life. Tall, broad, with that gorgeous bronze skin, those sexy cheekbones and that silky, black braid hanging down her back...

"Hey," I smiled as I approached.

She stood to her full height, taller than I remembered...and then her lips were on mine in a gentle kiss, shutting down my brain for a moment.

"Hi," she said in that husky, deep voice I loved.

I stared up into those dark, soothing eyes and thought...why did we have go slow?

"Come on, I haven't had a decent cheese steak in forever," she insisted, taking my hand and pulling me into the crowded restaurant.

We managed to find a small table in the back. She went up to order our food and I...well, I tried to get a grip. She was still gorgeous and the chemistry I'd wondered about was still there. This night was going to be harder than I thought.

I loved this restaurant because the steaks were so good, but it was always crowded, loud, and they had no waitstaff. So, you had to place your own order and then wait for them to scream out your number when it was ready. Still, the steaks were to die for, so the inconvenience was worth it.

She took her seat across from me minutes later and we both kept an ear out for our number.

"You look good, Isa," she smiled at me.

I blushed...and felt my body warm at the appreciation I saw in her eyes. Yup, harder than I thought.

"How was your trip to North Korea?" I asked. She'd flown there earlier this week and I'd been on pins and needles until she was back on U.S. soil. I'm not sure why. I guess because our government pegged North Korea as the devil.

"The trip went just as planned. However, being unexpectedly met by Homeland Security when my flight landed, and being 'debriefed' for seven hours, was less than fun."

I raised a brow, "everything okay?"

She shrugged, "let's just say our government is not happy with my newest customer."

"Are you going to work with them anyway?"

She smiled slyly at me, "of course. I think I want to even more now. I like pissing our government off."

I was less thrilled about that. "Okay, but if you disappear one night with no word, I'm not going to be happy."

She laughed, "duly noted."

We chatted casually until our food was ready and then I watched, amused, as she shoved her steak into her mouth like a woman who had been deprived of food for a year.

When we were done, she removed the trash from our table, took my hand and led us in the direction of the movie theater.

"How are your therapy sessions going?" She asked out of the blue.

"Good. I like her. She's tough, doesn't let me get away with anything. Pushes me. We're going down to one session a week."

She glanced down at me, "already?"
I nodded, "she said I'm ready."

She didn't say anything. I waited, knowing something was on her mind.

"What does she say about us?" She asked.

I smiled, pleased to know she'd been thinking about "us" also. "Take it slow. Don't rush into anything. No sex yet."
She chuckled, "of course."

I laughed also, glad I'd shared so I was not the only one that had to behave myself.

But moments later she stopped walking abruptly, pressing me up against the side of a car and covering my lips with hers hungrily. My body temperature increased exponentially as I curved my arms around her waist, pressing myself closer to her as her tongue slid inside my mouth, warm, wet, curious...hungry. She smelled wonderful, that same, musky cologne titillating my senses. And the feel of her hard body, pressing against mine...if she wanted to skip the movie, I was already willing to ignore Pamela's advice. She kissed me senseless...and then stopped to look down at me, taking me in with a smile.

"So, I wanted to show you my new car," she said.

She was saying something...it took my brain a moment to process it. I turned to look at the car she had me pressed against, relieved we weren't possibly scratching someone else's car. It was a gorgeous, black, sleek convertible. A Beamer I think.

"Is this a BMW?" I asked.

She nodded, but her eyes were on mine...and it was clear she wasn't thinking about the car.

"It's really nice," I said softly.

Her lips covered mine again and I lost my breath, my head swirling dizzily. God, she could really kiss. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me even closer to her.

"Can you drive a stick," she asked me huskily.

"Huh? Uh...yeah. It's been a while."

I lost my concentration again as she tenderly kissed my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, the nape of my neck...

"Good, you can keep an eye on it for me when I'm not in town."

I froze in her arms, pulling back a few inches.

"Kaden, did you buy me a car?" I demanded, knowing her game now.

"I just told you it's my car."

I sighed and pulled away from her, "Kaden, you promised."

"Isa, it's my car."

"Really? Let me see the registration? The insurance?"

And the fact that she shifted her eyes to a distant point over my shoulder just pissed me off even more. I yanked the car door open and searched the glove compartment. My name was on all the documents of course, including the title.

"Kaden! You promised! No more gifts! No more help!"
I could see a little spark of anger in her eyes when she brought them back to me, "I didn't agree to that Isa. You said it, so I backed off. But that's ridiculous. I have a shitload of money. Why wouldn't I spend some of it on you?"

"Kaden, need I remind you about the $375,000—"

"That doesn't count. That was to bail out your fucktard husband."

"Doesn't count?! Oh, so maybe I should give him your number so he can hit you up for more money like he keeps asking?"

And in the moment it took her spark of anger to shift from something mild to something major, I realized I'd let my annoyance, and my mouth, get away from me.

"What are you talking about?" She demanded, her voice tempered with a budding rage that I suddenly wanted to avoid.

"Kaden, it's not—"

"He's been in touch with you?"

I started to shake my head, but stopped. I wasn't going to lie to her.

"Only a few times."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"So you could send another football player to beat him up?" I inquired with bitter sweetness.

"Pete didn't touch him. Just provided some incentive. He signed the fucking papers, didn't he?"

I closed my eyes, trying to calm down.

"Kaden, I don't need you to fix everything for me. I can stand on my own two feet."

She stepped closer to me, pulling me back into her arms although I was still stiff with anger.

"I know that, Isa. I fucking know that. I've told you that countless times. What the fuck does that have to do with me buying you a gift and you telling me that asshole has been bothering you?"

Her dark eyes bore into mine...and I knew she was right. Being independent didn't mean I couldn't talk to her about something that was really bothering me. And it didn't mean she couldn't buy me gifts...although I didn't think a new car counted as a simple gift.

"He meets me outside every time I have a therapy session. I keep telling him not to, but he's always there."
"For how long?" She asked, her voice tight with anger.

"A few weeks."

She let me go, taking a step back. "You keep your appointments on your computer at home?"

"Yeah, I have a calendar program that sends me text reminders."

She nodded, "new computer?"
I laughed, "I can't afford a new computer right now."

She nodded, but didn't say anything, her eyes distant.

"What?" I asked.

"He put spyware on your computer. Only explanation."

I froze. Of course. That made complete sense. He'd certainly had access to it before I moved out. I'd never put a pass code on it. And if he could track my appointments...

"Ah, that makes sense now," I said out loud.

"What?"

"I've been missing money from my bank account. Twenty dollars here, 50 dollars there. I thought I just wasn't keeping track carefully."

"He has access to your bank account?"
"Well, I use online banking. So he has my login information now. And besides, we're still married. He could probably go to the bank and withdraw money from my account at any time, even without a card or check."
She swore under her breath. "When's the last time he asked you for money?"

"A few days ago."

"How desperate did he seem? You checked your account since then?"

I shook my head, realizing what she was suggesting, "he wouldn't do that."

But I quickly pulled out my phone to check my account. And when I finally logged in, my heart dropped. I'd had enough in my account to cover my expenses for the next three months. He'd left me $100.

"Oh my god," I breathed, my brain trying to process that he'd stolen all my money.

"How much?"

I didn't answer her, trying not to panic, wondering how I was going to pay my rent, my other bills...

"Isa, how much did he take?"

"About $8,000."
She swore and I saw her reach for her phone.

"No. Don't even think about it," I snapped. "You are not going to call Pete so he can beat him up. You're not going to contact my bank and you're not going to put $8,000 back in my account."
"I wouldn't put more money in that account so he could steal it. You need a new account in a different bank. You can bank at my bank."
"And you were going to call them tonight to open an account for me?" I asked incredulously.

"I bank with one bank. I'm on a first name basis with the owner, he's an old college friend," she answered casually.
"You have the personal phone number for the owner of your bank? Seriously?"
"They have a lot of my money in that bank, Isa."

I closed my eyes and started counting, one...two... ten... twenty...thirty... Every person in my life was nuts. That's what I'd decided. Absolutely nuts.

"Okay, how about we wait until tomorrow morning to open a bank account for me? And we can actually wait longer because I don't have any money to put in an account."

She was about to say something but I cut her off, "and if you offer to give me a dime, I swear I will leave you standing here by yourself."

That shut her up...although I saw her smile a little.

"Bossy, aren't you?"

"Promise me you will not start a bank account for me and put $8,000 in it."

She raised a brow, "I wasn't going to—"

I turned to look at the car exaggeratedly, then turned back to her. "Really? You were saying? Promise me."
She smirked, "I promise not to put $8,000 in a bank account for you."
I sighed, feeling relieved.

"I don't want to go to the movies now," I admitted sourly.

She nodded, "understood. You want to get a drink?"

I shrugged, "sure, why not?"

"You wanna drive your new car?"

I bristled, "it's not my car."

She smirked, "that's not what the registration or title says. Here."

She handed me the keys and I sighed.

Absolutely nuts.

*

We wound up at the bar in her hotel for drinks. She ordered me a vodka on the rocks and they served her a glass of her special brand of whiskey, neat. (I'm assuming they kept the brand for her because it was not behind the bar, it was under it. Considering this was the only hotel she ever stayed at and I'd seen that brand in her room...)

We went back to chatting about safe topics, like my clients and some of their odd requests and more about her trip to North Korea. I was sipping on my second vodka when I noticed a certain gleam in her eye...and I knew what she was about to ask.

"Come upstairs with me."

It sounded like a statement, but I knew it wasn't. She would not push, I knew that absolutely. It was entirely up to me.

I glanced down at the table, toying with the stirrer in my drink and avoiding those dark, sexy eyes.

"Pamela says we should wait," I reminded her.

"If you're not sure, we should wait. But you were sure a year and a half ago," she countered gently.

I looked up at her, knowing she was right. But still...I worried.

"What if I can't?" I asked softly.

"Then we won't. I think they have some inane cartoon on pay-per-view we can watch," she teased.

I smiled, remembering our first night together. I picked up my glass and finished the contents.

"Okay," I agreed, smiling shyly at her.

She stood, offering me a hand, and I went willingly, following her to the elevators, watching as she used her key card to access the penthouse. It looked the same once we stepped inside. Perhaps that's why she stayed here? The same luxurious, white furniture, the same gorgeous view...

I watched as she made her way to the bar to pour us drinks, her tall, frame solid and sexy in all that black, her movements languid and relaxed. I settled down on one of the sofas and she brought me my drink, disappearing into the bedroom for what I hoped was a joint. I was going to need to relax to do this...I could feel myself tensing at just the thought of anyone touching me, even her...

She sat beside me a minute later, inhaling from a joint before passing it to me. I took it and inhaled deeply...and started choking and coughing. I shook my head, realizing it had been over a year since I'd smoked.

"I should have warned you this one's a little stronger," she smiled.

I nodded, thumping my own chest and drinking a little vodka to help with the burn, which of course didn't help much with the burn. She took the joint and watched me, clearly amused, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in for quite some time. When I'd calmed down, she handed me the joint again and I inhaled shallowly, careful not to take in too much lest I have another coughing fit.

I was nervous. I could feel the tension in my body...in my blood...on my skin...in each of my limbs. I was worried I would be freaked out by her touch, by anyone's touch. After what happened...how could I ever be normal again? Pamela had theorized that I would be okay...eventually. At first, I might feel anxious and reluctant...might freeze up, get nauseous...might even have flashbacks. She'd actually encouraged me to smoke a little if I wanted to in order to help me relax the first few times. I was certainly doing that. I could feel the panic on simmer now, but I still...I just didn't know.

Kaden was watching me...I wasn't sure if she could tell I was anxious. Knowing her, and knowing how she could read me, probably. She removed the glass from my hand, put hers and the joint on the low table in front of us, and turned to me, moving closer.

"Is it okay if I kiss you, Isa?" She asked in that husky, throaty voice of hers.

I could feel my blood warm from that question alone, from the sound of her voice...she was so close to me...I nodded.

She reached out to caress my cheek, "stay with me Isa," she said softly.

And then she leaned in and gently, so gently, touched her lips to mine. It was a whisper, this kiss...soft...tender...I sighed. She kept kissing me...sweetly ...over and over...her lips teasing...coaxing...so soft... so gentle... I could feel my body responding to her...growing warmer... I moved in closer, pressing my lips to hers more firmly. She smiled against my lips and I realized that's what she'd been waiting for. Then she kissed me...her mouth open just a little, her tongue teasing my bottom lip, her lips pressing firmly against mine over and over again...I moaned, my skin starting to tingle.

Moments later, I was pressing myself against her, wanting more, needing more. It was her turn to moan, the heat of her mouth intoxicating as it covered mine more completely, her tongue dancing with mine. I felt her hands, gentle, on my shoulders, my neck...moving slowly down the length of my arms, up my sides, teasingly caressing the sides of my breasts. She was in no rush, in tune with me, watching, listening to my breaths, feeling my heartbeat, making sure I was still okay.

I was definitely okay.

I reached up, my hand covering hers, moving it to my breast, enjoying the feel of her touching me, knowing she could feel my response to her as my nipple hardened. I needed to touch her, placing my hands on her muscular thighs, moving up, caressing her, teasing her, finding her nipples erect, toying with them as she moaned in my mouth, her lips never leaving mine.

She took her time as we stoked the fires in each other's bodies, not moving too fast, not pushing. It was my fingers that suddenly wanted her shirt off, quickly removing her bra...my head bending to take her breast into my mouth. She let me take the lead, her body tense beneath my fingers as she watched me, a smile on her lips.

She could see I was terribly aroused...ready for whatever...she eased me back, lying down half on top of me, her leg between my thighs, pressing against that delightful cluster of nerves, forcing a moan from deep within me. I was riding her thigh, my body wonderfully tense, her hands on my breasts, her mouth covering mine...it had been a while...I could feel...I could...

It took me by surprise and I cried out as the orgasm seared through me, my back arching, pressing my breast further into her mouth as the heat and emotions overtook me. My breathing was harsh, my hands desperately clinging to her, pulling her closer to me.

"Kaden."

It was a deep, throaty, hungry plea as she began to remove my clothes. I wanted to feel her skin against mine, needed her to be closer. She tossed my clothes aside and then stood, holding out her hand, leading me to the bedroom. She lay me down, kneeling before me...and then her mouth was on me...teasing...kissing...licking at my slick center ...sucking my flesh into her mouth...consuming me. I buried my trembling hands in her long, thick mane of hair, quickly undoing her braid until I could feel the silky softness of her hair on my thighs, my stomach...everywhere. She slid two fingers into me, gently, gauging my response, plunging deeper when she saw my only reaction was desperate arousal. I could feel my temperature rising again, knew she was leading me up to the peak again, knew she would be there to catch me when I fell. She seized my clit, tonguing it, laving it, lashing at it torturously until...my body bucked, the blaze tearing through me again. I cried out, mumbling, muttering, not at all sure what I was saying as she stayed with me, her mouth relentless, carrying me through.