Fire We Make (Jackson and Liane Book 1) Read online

  They both would have to deal.

  “Are you ready for the weekend?” Jackson stopped by Caliente’s room. He rested an arm on the doorway and peeped inside.

  Caliente finished applying a deep maroon color to her lips and smacked them together. She turned around and smiled at Jackson. “How do I look?”

  She looked like a goddess. A wonderful, exquisite vixen. The amber in her brown eyes sparkled against the sunlight, creating dangerous warmth to them. Her pouty, full lips beckoned him to come closer if he dared. Her almond skin glowed, smoothed over with oil and smelled like sandalwood and musk.

  “You look amazing, Layla.” Jackson walked inside the bedroom and sat behind her on the bed. “Are you ready for the weekend?”

  “Yeah,” Caliente smiled, revealing a radiant smile. “It’s always fun when the NBA comes to town.”

  “Lots and lots of money to be made. Everyone wins in this.” Jackson paused before he spoke again. “Liane is coming to town so I’ll be entertaining her while you girls are busy.”

  Caliente felt she had to strain her eyes from rolling so hard. She could not possibly fathom why Jackson still pined for a woman that effectively destroyed his business in Los Angeles. He wasn’t quite banned from starting up another – and legit – business in L.A. but Jackson knew better. Cops would’ve had daily surveillance on him and whatever he did. The risk just was not worth it.

  Now the very woman who made all of them uproot and move to Nevada is coming for a visit? “I don’t understand,” she answered, “why do you still see her?”

  “I haven’t,” Jackson honestly answered, “this is the first time since everything happened.”

  “She could’ve put you away for a long time, Daddy.” Caliente spoke to him through the mirror. “She’s the reason why we’re here to begin with.”

  “You’re making more money now than you ever have been and you’re complaining?” Jackson smiled.

  “You know what I meant,” Caliente’s eyes hardened, “she could’ve destroyed you. She still can if she wanted to.”

  “She could, but she didn’t, and she won’t.” He met Caliente’s hard gaze with one of his own. “Why are you concerned about her visit all of a sudden? You’ve known about it for weeks now.”

  “I don’t want another sting operation in case you forgot what happened last time.” Caliente forced a grin. “I don’t want to be anywhere around her or this place when it happens.”

  “It’s not going to happen,” Jackson declared, annoyed he had to explain Liane’s visit. If it weren’t for the fact that Caliente had every reason to be suspicious, he would’ve walked out of the room already. Jackson had to silently admit the thought of Liane setting him up again did run across his mind more often than not. He never tried to convince Liane to come see him but when he presented the offer to her, she accepted without hesitation.

  Jackson successfully silenced the would-be alarms going off in his head. “It’ll be fine.”

  “What’s so special about her?” Layla asked. “I don’t remember you being all hot and bothered with that bitch Angel?”

  “She’s special to me and that’s all you need to know,” Jackson sharply replied.

  Layla got up and shook her head. “Whatever, Daddy.”

  “Layla?”

  She turned around and faced him. “Yeah?”

  “That’ll be the last time you’re going to refer to Angel as a bitch again,” his gaze turned icy, “you hear me?”

  Layla quickly retreated. “Yes, Daddy.” She left.

  Jackson calmly stared out the window. It had been too long since he’d seen Liane and wondered if the visit from her was even a good idea on both of their parts.

  He would find out in a few hours.

  Four

  She knew it was a special occasion when Jackson chartered a private jet for her.

  She wasn’t a fan of small planes. Too small and the thought of being in a crash clouded her reasonable judgment. However, the Gulfstream was very nice. She didn’t know if Jackson owned it and wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that he did. The thought that he went beyond to cater to her made Liane feel like she was the queen of the world.

  She’d already gotten accustomed to it.

  The flight from L.A. to Vegas was relatively uneventful. Just when Liane was getting ready to stretch her legs and relax, the light came on indicating they were about to land. She was so relaxed, sipping out of a small flute of champagne and had personal service with her only flight attendant. The crew referred to her as Ms. Chang and never once addressed her by her first name. Liane would like to think it was out of respect and they all do that. It then occurred to her they were under instruction from Jackson. It was treatment she’d already gotten used to.

  When she arrived at the airport, she didn’t have to walk too far when she saw him. Her breath became lodged in her throat and her heart slammed against her chest.

  Jackson.

  His name came out like a harsh breath, as if she’d been holding it for a while and waited for the right time to finally release it. He stood in front of her, his physique fully filling out an open collar black dress shirt and matching slacks. Aviator sunglasses covered his intense blue eyes and his blond hair had the just right amount of bedhead to it.

  It was then Liane knew she didn’t just like Jackson. Her body craved him, her heart desired him, and her soul needed him. Her mind that told her he was no good and Liane didn’t have to count the many ways that he wasn’t. They both knew. That’s what made it the love between them so good.

  It was what made the love between them so forbidden.

  “There’s my girl,” he purred as she walked up to him. He opened his arms and Liane practically leapt to him. “How was your flight, baby?”

  Liane briefly closed her eyes and relished the feel of him. He felt like an unexpected and perfect, sunny day in the middle of winter. His cologne tickled her nose with its notes of musk, wood, and sandalwood. His embrace made her feel at home.

  She was home.

  “My flight was good,” she finally answered and looked up at him. “How are you?”

  Jackson pushed the sunglasses off his face. His cobalt blue eyes sparkled down at Liane. “I’m doing much better now.” He picked up her bag and interlocked fingers with her as they walked out to the parking lot. “Are you hungry?”

  She loved the feeling of his fingers interlaced with hers. It seemed her brain went on vacation as her heart gladly took over the reins. “Famished.”

  “Good,” Jackson walked them to his car – a money-green Mercedes-Benz AMG – and unlocked the trunk for Liane. He placed her luggage in there before he opened the passenger door for her. He got into the driver’s seat and buckled up. “Before we leave…” He reached over and kissed her. His lips softly enveloped hers while their tongues danced. He finally pulled back and started the car. “Now we’re ready.”

  ****

  She was breathtakingly beautiful. It had been a couple of years since he’d last seen her in person but it didn’t make a difference. She was just as gorgeous sitting in front of him like she was years ago.

  He took her to a popular steakhouse and reserved a private room for them. He ordered their meals and went into great detail over the wine selection, though he could tell some of it went over Liane’s head. It didn’t matter. He just wanted to enjoy her.

  Over dinner, they caught up with each other’s private lives. Liane was still doing undercover sting work. Jackson opened his third brothel. They both had dated but found nothing serious in their exploits.

  It wasn’t that Jackson waited for Liane. He knew his role in her life and respected it, though he could admit, he wasn’t sure how big his part really was. It was true he wasn’t in the starring role, but he definitely wasn’t a background player.

  Liane, however, was always the star in his show. “Why did you come to visit me?” He asked as they awaited dessert.

  Liane rested her neck in her palm.
The million-dollar question and she was currently speechless. It was a question she’d asked herself as she packed, as she boarded, and even as she landed. She knew what the answer was but she also knew Jackson wasn’t ready to hear it. “To end things,” she said softly.

  Jackson grinned and took a sip of his craft beer. To end things, she said, though it wasn’t quite what he’d believed. If Liane wanted to end things, she sure wouldn’t be at dinner with him and she could’ve easily told him over a video chat if she really wanted face-to-face.

  Regardless if she was lying or not, the admission stung more than it should, though he wasn’t sure why. “We need to have something first before we end anything, you think?”

  “Don’t play games, J.” She quietly responded. “You know what we have and you know what this is.”

  “What is it?” He challenged her.

  A mix of emotions took over Liane’s spirit, creating a category-five storm within her. Anger. Sadness. Elation. Arousal. Confusion. All at the same time and all with the same intensity. She took a sip of wine in hopes to quiet her emotions. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “I’m fully aware of that.” He responded.

  “We’re not dating.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir.”

  Liane knew what Jackson was doing and didn’t care for it at all. She didn’t know if it was reverse psychology, another form of manipulation, or maybe, just maybe, Jackson’s feelings towards her were not that serious. Maybe she looked too deep into the kiss. Maybe the private jet ride and being catered to was just typical Jackson behavior and she shouldn’t consider herself the lucky one. “We’re not good for each other.” She stated. She read his eyes and her stomach did a backflip when she saw a twinkle within them.

  “Lee, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You can leave now if you want. I won’t ever speak of this trip and I will completely wash my hands of you after you leave.” He replied.

  “So why don’t I believe you?” She questioned.

  “Because it’s not what you want,” he reached over and grabbed her hand. She didn’t fight back. “And it’s not what I want, neither.”

  She didn’t let go of his hand. Her head told her it was because of defiance but her heart argued otherwise. “What do you want out of this?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “I know I don’t want to lose you but I don’t know anything more than that.”

  Liane grinned. Jackson promised her everything and guaranteed her absolutely nothing at the same time. It was the best he could do and all she could expect. “And what do you expect me to do with that information?”

  “You can do whatever you want with it.” Jackson smiled. He stood up and offered his hand. “Come with me.”

  Liane took Jackson’s hand and followed him to the balcony. They stepped outside into the brisk December night and Liane immediately felt the goose bumps rose on her arms. Jackson led her to the balcony wall and stood behind her, wrapping his muscular arms around her. She immediately felt safe, warm, and comforted within his embrace.

  “When I was a kid, I used to spend hours looking up at the stars. I would spend countless hours trying to figure out the constellations and maybe create my own if I didn’t like what I saw. Then I would make my own Star Wars with these stars on the left, battling these stars on the right. Whenever a plane flew, I would pretend that was a missile launch to attack the enemy.” He chuckled and Liane smiled. “I still do that from time to time, though privately. I can’t let the girls know how much of a nerd I am.”

  Liane slowly turned around and looked into the depths of Jackson’s blue eyes. They softened to sky blue and she saw the warmth within them. “Each time I have you figured out, you surprise me.”

  Jackson leaned in and kissed her, his lips sweeping over hers over and over. He slipped his tongue inside and once again, they danced until he reluctantly pulled away. “Stop trying to figure me out.”

  Five

  She didn’t know what to expect but she was pleasantly surprised when she saw it.

  After dinner, Jackson took Liane back to the Honey Ranch, the main brothel he owned and one he’d showcased on the reality show, per her request. Jackson had no intention of showing the brothel to Liane but she insisted on seeing at least the main one. He prepared her for what she was going to see – half-naked women catering to clients, with sexual sounds whispering through the walls. Liane was offended at Jackson treating her with kid gloves but soon realized there was a reason for his warning; she was going to a brothel and it was nothing like what his massage business used to be.

  The brothel wasn’t like what she’d read in history books or seen played out in various movies and TV shows. It was fancied as a nice hotel. It was painted white with a gold trim. A large electronic white gate with HR initials welcomed guests. There was a manicured lawn with numerous flowerbeds in the front lawn. The backyard posted of a heated pool and Jacuzzi with a large outdoor dining area for entertaining.

  Inside the home was more extravagant. There was a long bar attached to a full-service kitchen with a menu of mouth-watering options. In the living room, there was a pole centered in the middle of the room, flanked by plush sofas. The waiting area where the clients chose their dates for the night, had hardwood flooring and vaulted ceilings. The bedrooms were nicely decorated and catered to each girl’s personality. There were hidden cameras in each room for the girl’s protection.

  Trained security guards did round the clock surveillance and cameras everywhere monitored the ranch. A large gate surrounded the estate, giving it a palatial feel. It wasn’t a mistake on Jackson’s part, Liane figured. He wanted the girls to feel like they were princesses. If the girls were happy, the clients were happy. If the clients were happy, they spent more money. As an end result, Jackson was richer.

  No one could ever accuse Jackson of being a dumb executive.

  “Champagne, Mark.” Jackson directed to the bartender; a man in his mid-twenties. He was an attractive man with short brown hair, a rugged face, and muscular build. He had a brilliant smile when he revealed it but Liane noticed it wasn’t a mistake the bartender looked that way; he probably doubled as security. “We’ll be in the living room.”

  “Will send it over, J.” He grinned.

  Jackson led Liane to the living room that had several plush sofas waiting for them and a silver pole in the middle of the room. Liane sat down next to Jackson and nodded towards the pole. “For entertaining or instructing?”

  “Both,” Jackson honestly replied. A server came by with a bottle of Moet and Chandon and two pre-filled glasses. Jackson briefly thanked her before he turned his attention back to Liane. “Some girls didn’t know how to strip. Others just want to know how to pole dance. It’s a good conversation piece.” He handed a glass to Liane. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.” Liane took a sip of champagne and let the bubbly liquid ease down her throat. “How is business, by the way?”

  “It’s better than ever. The show definitely boosted our profile.” Jackson admitted. “I say the other brothels around here have also benefitted as well. They’re making quite a bit of money off our notoriety.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  “Why would it?” Jackson softly shrugged. “I would do the same. We’re still bringing in more money in one month than some of them do in an entire year. Why do I care if they want some scraps?”

  Liane smiled. She was always so impressed by Jackson’s business acumen. He really did make it seem like what he was doing so easy; she almost forgot exactly what it is that he did. “Spoken like a true executive.”

  “I’ve been in this game for too long to care about what others think.” He then turned to Liane. “Well, everyone except one.”

  Liane turned to Jackson and felt her breath lodged in her throat. He looked at her with such an intensity and fire, she felt her whole being shook to the core. Her sex twittered with want while her heart thumped wit
h need. She forced out another harsh breath and found some courage. “Why do you do this to me?”

  Jackson leaned in closer to her, nuzzling her neck with his lips. Her hair smelled like strawberries and vanilla and was soft as silk. He was mesmerized by her light perfume, inhaling her floral and spring notes. Her supple skin embraced his lips and his tongue softly touched the light saltiness of her long and slender neck. He was addicted to her. I think the question is why do you do this to me?”

  “J, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” An apologetic security guard interrupted the private moment. “We have a situation in the back that needs to be addressed.”

  Jackson reluctantly pulled away with fire in his eyes and upturned lips filled with annoyance. The very last thing he needed was a client arguing about price per sex act when he was in an intimate moment with Liane. He felt a small rage bubbling inside him and took a sip of champagne to simmer it. “I’ll be right there. Excuse me, baby.” He got up and followed the security guard.

  Liane sat back on the sofa and sipped her champagne. She was annoyed yet surprisingly grateful for the interruption. Jackson’s touch caused a lighting bolt reaction within her body, starting from the crux of her thighs and working its way up to the pit of her stomach before finally settling on her heart.

  No, she could not and most importantly, would not, fall in love with Jackson Fischer. Kissing was okay. Holding hands was permitted. But Liane knew the moment Jackson slid in between her legs and entered her, all bets were off.

  She was never the type to fall in love easily. How did one ex-boyfriend put it? “You are ridiculously impossible to be free!” He once said to her. No, Liane could be free. The problem was her bullshit meter was always on and she could smell false promises and sweet lies before they were even spoken.

  Jackson never lied to her nor did her promise her anything. He called it like he saw it. Take it or leave it. She’d never known anyone so honest, yet not brutal with it. He could think an idea is stupid without using those exact words. But he also made it clear he wasn’t going tolerate anyone’s shit no matter how long he’s known him or her.