Page 18 of Tell Me Your Desires

Chapter Eleven

Jaime stared through the windscreen, watching each trickle of rain as it made its way further down the glass.

It hadn’t stopped since she’d stepped foot inside the club, bordering on torrential as she’d fled some thirty minutes ago.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think straight.

She couldn’t shift the terrible feeling she had deep down.

Jaime had been selfish in allowing whatever happened in that session.

As usual, she’d done what she wanted, given herself over to the pleasure she hadn’t expected, and in turn…

disappointed Taylor once again. You can’t change how your body reacts to something.

She slammed a fist against the steering wheel.

It was probably a good thing her fiancée wasn’t around to see this side of Jaime.

She turned her hands over in front of her, her brows drawn.

Jaime didn’t recognise herself. She didn’t feel connected to herself.

But the truth was, she hadn’t felt connected to herself in a long time.

The moment she got that call, her life changed forever.

She changed forever. Only that guilt hadn’t once lifted. Not for a second.

I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore!

Jaime had been truthful with Lady A tonight.

She did want to stop feeling sad. So, if Lady A was the right person for that, why did Jaime feel so dreadful as she sat here?

Why did she feel as though she’d just shit all over Taylor’s memory?

She brought a trembling hand to the door handle, forcing the door open and emptying the contents of her stomach all over the ground.

She’d managed to calm herself when it almost happened before, but not now. No, she couldn’t stop it.

Jaime lowered her head, her bottom lip trembling when her emotions threatened to surface.

She didn’t need this in her life. She didn’t want to feel guilty about the events of tonight.

God, if her conscience was clear and she didn’t feel so awful about it, Jaime was sure she would have demanded Lady A touch her.

Fuck the rules and what she’d signed up for.

Jaime knew exactly what she had wanted from Lady A tonight.

To come. To…take away the pain she felt via the pleasure she hadn’t signed up for.

And without shame. Because as she’d left the club, shame was the one thing that held firm, deep in the pit of her stomach.

Was this really what agonizing guilt felt like?

This had to stop. It wasn’t healthy to feel so much all at once. Jaime had gone to Lady A; she’d experienced one session with her, and now she had to move on. She couldn’t go back and change her decision, so beating herself up about it was wasting time that could be better spent elsewhere.

She exhaled a deep breath, her nostrils flared as she closed her eyes.

If Jaime could just focus—if she could push this night to the back of her mind—she might have a decent chance at concentrating on the case from this point forward.

You know, the one that she had believed Lady A was a suspect in?

Fuck. Jaime closed the door, resting her head on the steering wheel.

She can’t be involved. It just doesn’t feel like her.

Jaime scoffed inwardly. How the fuck did she know what Lady A was and wasn’t capable of?

Just because she’d strung her up tonight and shattered her world, Jaime didn’t know shit.

It wasn’t her. It can’t have been her.

Jaime may not know what the hell was going on lately, but she knew Lady A wasn’t a suspect.

Max had been right all along—they had no connection to Lady A—and Jaime knew she was only holding onto the idea of it to make herself feel better.

To prevent something like this from happening.

Only it had happened, so Jaime had failed there, too. Story of your fucking life, Baros.

Now if she could just get her hands to stop shaking, maybe Jaime would make it home.

Part of her wanted to dissect how she was feeling.

To understand why tonight had happened the way it did.

She wanted to question her reasons for setting foot inside the club.

Only she knew the reason. It was plain and simple.

Lady A was the reason. Not under suspicion…

just as herself. Jaime could have gone in there and lied about why she wanted to feel anything other than what she’d been feeling for a long time.

She could have chosen to hold back. But she hadn’t, and as she sat here, Jaime knew one thing was for certain.

Lady A had nothing to do with the death of Maisie. How did Jaime know that? Her gut.

You really want to go on gut instinct with this?

Jaime knew she shouldn’t, that people could be convincing when least expected, but that’s how she felt.

Honestly, she’d known from the moment Lady A climbed from her car that she wasn’t a suspect.

Jaime had watched her. How she sat in her car for longer than deemed appropriate.

How when she’d exited the vehicle, she appeared wary and on edge.

Jaime watched Lady A morph into her alter ego.

Whoever that woman was behind the mask…it wasn’t who she truly was outside of the club.

Jaime had forced herself to believe Lady A was involved simply because of Jaime’s own reservations with her choice of career, but she knew now that it was a mistake on her part.

If Lady A was in any way involved, she never would have gone ahead with that session.

She was a clever woman. And talented. Jaime’s body reacted to the idea of seeing Lady A again.

It wasn’t possible, Lady A had specifically asked that Jaime not go to the club anymore, but the thought?

Fuck, the hairs on the back of Jaime’s neck stood to attention.

Right now, as much as it pained her to think about it, Jaime did want to see Lady A again.

She was the first person to bring out so much in Jaime since Taylor’s death.

If that wasn’t a reason to consider it again, Jaime didn’t know what was.

Don’t come back here, Detective. Jaime’s stomach flipped at the mere thought of Lady A after their session had ended.

She may have been capable of hiding behind sexy lace, but Jaime noted that confusion in her eyes.

Lady A could deny it; she could claim that their session was no different from any other client’s, but Jaime knew when something appeared off.

As she turned the key in the ignition, Taylor floated into her mind.

I’m sorry, babe. A tear slid down Jaime’s cheek, rolling to her jawline.

She didn’t want to cry for something she couldn’t change, and she didn’t want to cry for the way she felt.

Taylor was gone; she was never coming back.

But that was on Jaime to deal with. Perhaps it was just too close to the anniversary of Taylor’s death…

Jaime didn’t know, but she did know that she had to focus on this case if they had any hope of finding the bastard behind all of this.

“Okay, come on. Go home and forget about this.”

Jaime turned up the radio, smiling when P!nk’s Who Knew played through the speakers. Her mind instantly wandered back to Taylor and the nights they did get to share with one another.

“Right, answer me this. If I died in the line of duty, how many years would you mourn me?” Jaime stroked a palm up and down Taylor’s thigh, her head resting back on the couch. “One year? Five years? Forever?”

Taylor sighed. “I’m not sure it’s possible to answer that. It’s something I’d have to face if the time came, you know?”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah.” Taylor gazed at Jaime, her light brown eyes sparkling.

“Nobody knows what the future holds, Jai. On the one hand, I may never find anyone like you again. Or I could…but I refuse to allow myself to go there. On the other hand, someone could just come into my life so unexpectedly that I fall in love again and try to open my heart up to them.”

That was a very good way of looking at it.

Jaime didn’t plan to lose her life, so this conversation was a dud, really, but she enjoyed talking about these things.

It was important to her to know what Taylor wanted or planned to do if these situations came about one day.

“I guess you’re right. I don’t know what I’d do if I was faced with something like that. ”

“I know exactly what you’d do.” Taylor grinned, placing her hand over Jaime’s. “You’d wallow. You’d live in your own mess for several months, and you’d push everyone away. That’s just who you are.”

“I’d…live in my own mess? Thanks!”

“You’re not the kind of person who opens up. It took me long enough to even convince you that we were worth a shot.”

“Because of my job, babe. Not because I’m closed off and didn’t want to be with you.”

Taylor lifted a shoulder. “Still.”

“Still…what?”

“I just don’t think you’d find love again easily. That’s not a criticism; it’s simply me understanding who you are as a person. If I died—”

“Don’t say that, babe.” The thought of losing Taylor had Jaime’s stomach in turmoil. She didn’t enjoy thinking about a day when they may not be together. To imagine it being because of a death, no. Jaime didn’t like that at all. “We were talking about me. Not you.”

“Are you the only person who could possibly die in this scenario? You know, the scenario that’s never going to happen because you’re so shit hot at your job?”

“Anything is possible. But it’s far more likely that I’d die than you.”

Taylor quirked a brow. “Is it, though? Just because you find yourself in dangerous situations, it doesn’t mean you’ll go before me. Okay, the probability of it happening is higher, yes, but I could choke on dinner tonight, and maybe you couldn’t save me.”

“I’d save you!” Jaime scoffed.