Stripped Raw (17 page)

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Authors: Prescott Lane

BOOK: Stripped Raw
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“Since college, I guess. I didn’t know what she was doing in the beginning. By the time I found out, we were married. She hid it from me for a long time, but it reached the point where she couldn’t control things anymore.”

“How often do you visit her?”

“It wasn’t a planned visit this time. I actually hadn’t seen her in months,” Kane says. “When she first got out there, I went after about a month to see how she was doing, and then sometimes I’d end up going every weekend. She’d say she needed me, and I’d drop what I was doing and fly out. It turned out that was way too much.”

“And during those visits, you and Lily ended up, um. . . .”

“I’m not proud of that, Kenzie,” he says, his eyes falling to the floor again. “We were just using each other, both needing some comfort, I guess. We weren’t getting back together. It was bad for both of us. Lily started to purge more, lose more weight, so I stopped going out there so much.”

“Just let me know next time you go visit her.”

“I have no plans to,” he says, taking my hand. “We’ll keep in touch over the phone with the sale of the house, but nothing beyond that.” He moves a little closer to me and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Slipping my arms around his waist, the hard muscles of his chest and back relax. “I’m sorry, too.”

He kisses the top of my head. “You know what? You and I should take a short vacation—get away from life for a little while.”

“I’d like that,” I say before reality creeps in. “But what if something happens to Tessa?”

“I didn’t think about that,” he says before his face lights up. “How about this? How about I take some time off and spend it here with you? I can help you out with your store, with the catalog photo shoot next week. And if we ever got a break, we could sneak off to a movie, or you could teach me to a ride a horse, or whatever you want to do.”

Has he lost his mind? That’s no vacation! “You want to spend your vacation time working for me? And hanging out in Dallas?”

“I want to spend my time with you. I don’t care where we are or what we do. Sound good?” I nod and start to say yes, when Kane quickly pulls me down on top of him and pulls my hips into him. “Let me correct that,” he says and rubs his thumb across his bottom lip. “I actually do care a lot about what we do.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

KANE

The next few
days are spent organizing my cases, pushing off some briefing deadlines, and scheduling other lawyers to cover for me. My secretary helps me each step of the way, as if she knows I need the time off. Or perhaps she’s just excited to send me packing so she can have some peace and quiet at the firm.

The sun coming up, I pull in front of Kenzie’s shop and look over at my small suitcase. It’s resting on the front seat like some sort of test. I’m not officially moving in. We’ve actually never talked about me leaving stuff at her place. But now that my vacation is starting, and since I’ll probably be staying with her every night, I need clothes and other stuff. I just don’t like the way the suitcase looks—presumptuous as hell.

But it’s too late now. I grab the suitcase and hop out of the car. There’s no way Kenzie is awake right now. She was up most of the night finalizing plans for the catalog photo shoot today. This will be a stressful day for her, so it’s working out just right that my vacation is designed to help her. It’s meant for a day like this.

I unlock the door and quietly head inside the shop. The lights are off except for a lamp on her sewing table. I place the suitcase on the floor and find a handwritten note under the light. A huge fucking grin forms as I read each word.

I, Kenzie Scott, being of sound mind and body, give permission for Kane Hunter to wake me up early this morning—but only this morning. I solemnly swear not to moan and groan at him, or throw things at his head, or bury mine under a pillow. I promise to be sweet to him. Also, I promise to brush my teeth right away. I hold this document to be legal and true, just like my love for you. Kenzie

P.S. Coffee will make this a whole lot easier. . . .

Kenzie is so sweet, so creative. The fact that she took the time to prepare the note when she had so much work to do means a lot. And I love that she used some legalese, some bullshit lawyer speak, no doubt just for me. I pick up my suitcase and tiptoe to her apartment.

Leaning against the doorframe, I watch Kenzie sleep. Her auburn hair is all spread out, her mouth is slightly open, and the blankets are jumbled up around her. The girl looks like a complete and utter mess. And she looks absolutely beautiful to me.

I leave my suitcase, start the coffee, and return to her bed. I kneel down beside her and listen to her breathe and sweetly moan, probably in the middle of a good dream. When I lightly brush some wild hair strands from her face, her big brown eyes slowly open, but she doesn’t smile.

“I got your note,” I whisper. She gives me the saddest little nod before wrapping her arms around my neck, trying to drift back to sleep and lure me to bed. I crawl in beside her and hold her to my chest, feeling her pout at the early morning hour. “Time to get up. Big day today.”

Kenzie nods again and slowly sits up, releasing a huge yawn. “I’ll make you breakfast,” I say and kiss her on top of the head. I make some toast and wonder what possessed her to promise to wake up happy. I’m sure it seemed like a sweet idea last night, but she must’ve been delirious—or drinking. She’s regretting it now. I’m plating the toast and pouring her a coffee when I see her heading towards me. “Good morning,” I say.

She takes the cup and thanks me with a little smile and another yawn. She holds the coffee to her nose, probably hoping it helps wake her up. Then her eyes land on my suitcase. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?” she asks. “In your car?”

“No, that’s it,” I say, relieved we are on the same page. “I actually plan on being naked as much as possible.”

She puts down the cup and wraps her arms around my neck. “I wish we could start your vacation that way.”

“Can we?” I ask, gripping her ass with both hands and pulling her to my hips.

She runs her fingers across the stubble on my face. “I like this.”

I find the spot on her neck that makes her moan, but she puts a hand on my chest. “I’ve got to get ready.”

“Should I come with you?”

“I’d prefer you not stand around looking at other women half-naked.”

“What good is dating a lingerie designer if I don’t get to come to the photo shoots?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, reaching into her nightstand and pulling out a pair of handcuffs designed as dress shirt cuffs. “I can think of a few things.”

I tackle her down to the bed. Her hair spreads out like a fan, and her giggle fills up the entire room. I love this woman so damn much. She slaps a cuff on my wrist and smiles up at me. “Maybe I should strip you naked, cuff you to my bed, and keep you here your entire vacation?”

I roll on my back and put my hands up. “I’m here to serve.” She laughs, and I sit up and capture her in my arms. “Seriously, how can I help you get ready?”

She smirks and hands me a checklist. For the next half an hour, Kenzie is a tornado of energy, barreling through her shop, counting black garment bags with her designs, confirming she has packed accessories, and other stuff I can’t even name. I do my best to keep up, to check things off as she buzzes along. And when she comes in my direction, I shove a bite of toast in her mouth.

After the list is checked and re-rechecked, I load up her car and enter directions on her phone so she doesn’t get lost. I assure her she’s prepared, that the shoot will go well, and that I’ll be here waiting when she gets back. I send her off with a kiss on the lips then watch her drive away. It’s strange to be the one left behind. When I was married, I was the one always leaving for work, with Lily staying at home to take care of the house.

I head back inside and take a look around. There is shit everywhere in her shop. I’m sure she knows where everything is, but it looks like a complete mess. There needs to be some sort of shelving to organize all her materials. The more I look around, the more I realize the place is entirely too small for how much work she has to do, how fast Kenzie Lingerie is growing.

I fire up her laptop to search rental options. First criteria is getting out of this crappy neighborhood. I worry about her safety when I’m not here. There are millions of options in and around Dallas, so this is going to take some time. That’s fine. I’ve got nothing but free time right now. I pull out a stool to sit, and a black garment bag falls to the floor. Shit!

*

I can hear
the music before I even open the door. It sounds like a night club, not a photography studio. Garment bag in hand, I pull open the door and walk inside, blinded by boobs, butts, and bustiers everywhere, women of all colors, shapes and sizes, some in hair and makeup, others chatting and dancing. How am I supposed to find Kenzie among the sea of flesh? Better question—how do I avoid looking?

But then I hear a laugh over the music—her laugh—and spot Kenzie looking down at an image on a camera screen. She points to something on the screen, and a model adjusts her pose just a tad. Kenzie points and waves at some other models, and they do what she asks. Kenzie is clearly running the show but making sure everyone is loose and comfortable, too. She may have a horrible sense of direction, but her sense of women is right on. She knows just how to make them feel confident and beautiful.

I head her way but stop when a guy appears beside her. Kenzie and the guy lean down to look at some images on a screen, and he places his hand on the small of her back. Bastard! The guy is probably just the photographer, but he still has no business touching Kenzie! They finish with the images, and Kenzie lets slip a laugh, the same one she gives me.

Kenzie calls for a five-minute break, and the music shuts off. “Kenzie?” I call out, but she doesn’t hear me—or at least doesn’t respond. Too busy with that asshole whose fingers are now touching her shoulder. What the fuck is going on? I storm towards her, not about to let this cock continue to touch her while she laughs through it all—that’s my laugh! I step beside her, and she jumps slightly.

“Kane, what a surprise! What’re you doing here?” she cries, startled, as a forest of goose bumps cover her pale skin. I can’t stand it and take her hand.

“Looks like I’m just in time,” I say and flash a menacing look at the photographer, who quickly excuses himself.

She releases my hand. “What the hell was that? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“He was imagining you in that kinky lingerie.”

“He was not.”

“He had his hands on you.”

“Good God, he didn’t have his hands on me! Don’t turn into a jealous control freak. Been there, done that.”

“I think I have a right to be jealous when. . . .”

“I don’t like it.”

“I’m just protective of you—of us.”

She releases a deep breath. “I appreciate that, but this is my business. You can’t interfere like that. Okay?”

I give a half-hearted nod and hand over the garment bag. “You left this.”

“Oh, my God! I don’t know how that happened! Thank you so much for bringing it.”

“You need a bigger space, more room to stay organized,” I say. “I could line up a few places for you to look at.”

“Things are so crazy right now. There’s so much going on. I’m not sure moving my business, my apartment, is something I should be doing.”

“It doesn’t hurt to look,” I say. “It could be fun.”

Kenzie gives me a nod, as someone calls out the break is almost over. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. We’re starting back.”

I eye the photographer lining up the next shot. “Think I’ll hang around for a bit.”

“He wasn’t hitting on me, Kane. And even if he was, I can handle it,” she says. “He’s actually a nice guy. You can Google him if you want. His sister has a colostomy bag because of colon cancer, so he’s particularly sensitive to women with body issues. That’s why I use him for my catalog. He sees beauty in all body types.”

“As long as he knows the beauty in your body is all mine.”

“No one could make me feel as beautiful as you do.”

*

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