Page 57 of Hidden Desires

His smile is half threat, half invitation. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he growls. “Not while you’re this jumpy. C’mere.”

He sets a hand on my knee, big and warm, and just like that, my entire spine goes soft. I take a breath and lay the folder flat on the table.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” I start. “About my job. Not the law firm one, the other one. The camming.”

He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. Just gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. “Go on.”

“I’ve been doing it for over a year. I started because I was broke, even living at home. My paralegal salary barely covers gas, and you know I want to go to law school one day. At least, I thought at did at the time.”

Jack’s mouth quirks. “I’m aware. It’s okay to change your mind about what you want to do, sweetheart. That’s not a crime.”

I nod, taking a deep breath.

“Right, so I figured I’d start camming and it was just supposed to be a stop-gap. I didn’t really think men would pay to watch me, but I started and got good. And I mean really good, Jack. So good that I’ve been able to save a lot. Like, way more than I ever thought possible.”

The alpha male is calm. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re very beautiful, Eliza, and an extremely sensual and responsive young woman. I’m not surprised. But how much are we talking?”

I open the folder with trembling hands. Inside: three months of bank statements, each one showing four-digit deposits, regular as clockwork. I point at the total in thick black marker: $192,834.22.

Jack whistles, long and low, blue eyes flashing. “Jesus Christ, Eliza.”

I wince, bracing for the lecture, the disappointment, the “but this is dirty money” speech.

Yet he just stares, then looks at me, something like awe in his eyes. “You made this in a year?”

I nod, lips pressed so tight they might split.

He shakes his head, still stunned. “That’s more than I made my first three years in the service. Holy hell.”

“I was going to surprise you,” I blurt, “or maybe just pay for law school and never tell anyone where I got the money. But then I realized I was doing the same thing I always do, which is keep secrets and hope nobody gets hurt, and I didn’t want to do that with you.”

Jack is silent for a minute. The only sound is the low hum of his fridge and the soft pop of the glass settling in his hand.

“You’re not embarrassed?” I ask. “You’re not disgusted by, I don’t know … the fruits of the poison tree?”

He studies me, slow and careful, as if plotting an intercept course through a thunderstorm. “I’m not thrilled that thousands of guys who have seen your beautiful body, sweetheart,” he says in a steady tone. “But I’m not an idiot. You’re smart, you’re safe, and you’re not out there meeting freaks in person. You’re an independent young woman, and I don’t get to judge.”

I exhale, my lungs finally giving up the panic they’ve been holding for weeks. My hands go numb and tingly, which means I might faint, but I smile weakly instead.

“Oh good.”

Jack taps the statement. “So what now?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I’m burned out a little, to be honest. Camming is fun, sometimes, but mostly it’s just work, like any job. And I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from you, and not from anyone.”

He nods, slow. “Are you saying you want people to know that you cam?.”

I shake my head quickly. “No, not at all. The anonymity is key, and I’ll never give that up. But my parents … well, you know they’d go berserk if they ever found out, and I can feel the walls closing, Jack. I know it.”

Jack’s eyes go hard for a second, the old fighter pilot vibe leaking through. “If Gerald ever gives you shit, I’ll handle it. If he threatens you, let me know.”

I laugh, then realize he’s only half-joking.

Jack’s hand moves to my jaw, rough fingers tilting my face to his. “You haven’t fucked-up, Eliza. People will tell you that because they look down at your line of work. It’s a rough world out there, and women of the night have always been shamed and disregarded. But you’re anonymous and careful. You’re the bravest person I know. And you’re more honest than most people ever manage.”

I lean into his hand, heart squeezing so hard it almost hurts. “You mean that?”

He nods, then kisses me—slow and careful, like he’s afraid I might break. I kiss him back, pouring months of relief and raw animal want into it.