I closed the space again, lowering my voice as I leaned in like I was about to kiss her. I really wanted to. But I wouldn’t. Not yet. I just wanted to gauge her reaction.
Her eyes fluttered shut for a second; she puckered her lips. Like she was bracing for it, ready for it. I pressed my phone into her hand.
“Order the ingredients on my account,” I said, stepping back. “We both know you’re gonna make shrimp and grits tonight.”
Her eyes snapped open, narrowing at me, but she took my phone anyway. “You’re so annoying.”
“I know,” I said with a grin. “I’m gonna shower. I’ll meet you in the main house.”
The shower was supposed to clear my head and calm my dick, but it didn’t. Instead, it made me think about her.
I liked Jordin here, with me. I liked her more than I should. She felt like a friend, something I didn’t have many of. Like family. It wasn’t even about fucking her. I just wanted to share space with her. I had meant what I said. I didn’t give a fuck about her husband. She could go back to his fuck-ass tomorrow, and I’d still find a way to have her in my life. Under any circumstances.
The first time I saw her, it was like hearing the sample for a perfect beat. That foundational piece you build a whole track around. I didn't believe in fairytales, but denying how she made me feel would have been like trying to un-breathe air.
Some part of me had already decided. Recognized her. Marked her as mine in a way I couldn’t undo.
I stepped out of the shower, dripping, grabbing a towel. I dried off then dropped it in the clothes basket. I needed to hurry up. I wanted to chill with Jordin while she cooked.
I pulled the bathroom door open and she was walking into my room. She froze. Her gaze traveled from my head to my toes, then paused on my dick, which was growing harder by the second just because of the look on her face.
When her eyes finally made it back to my face, I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips.
“I told you,” I said, my voice low. “Anything you see in this house, you’re welcome to use. Even me.”
She blinked, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tossed my phone onto the bed. “I’ll be done cooking in an hour. Put some damn clothes on and come eat.” She was kind of breathless, and her chest was rising and falling fast as hell before she stalked out.
The door closed behind her, leaving me standing there, naked and amused.
She was affected.
I wasn’t gonna push to fuck her, though. Her being here wasn’t even about that. But the way things were going, it felt like it was only a matter of time before I was rocking her to sleep. Then she wouldn’t be able to tell me shit, and it would be fuck her husband for real.
eleven-Jordin
What was I really doing here?
The truth was, I didn’t know why I was still here.
I told myself I had run away with Ciarán for escape, revenge, distraction—sex as self-medication, to rid myself of the curiosity now that Oak had given me an excuse.
My motives felt murky now, or murkier than before. What was supposed to be physical started brushing up against something emotional, something I didn’t plan for or want.
I was now here because Ciarán made me feel something—shit that Oak hadn’t ever.
Things that went beyond the heat and the thrill.
I liked him.
And that terrified me.
I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to block it all out—the memory of Oak’s betrayal. I felt my heart speed up. This shit was giving me anxiety.
“Breathe,” I whispered to myself. “You’re not a weak woman. This will not break you.” I coached myself.
The sound of pots and pans drew my attention to the kitchen door. Ciarán was washing dishes. He also cleaned his house himself. I found that interesting because he didn’t come off as a man who did anything for himself. I assumed outside of the studio he was the type who always had people—assistants, managers, women—moving around him, smoothing over hislife. But that was my prejudice. I had been in the industry for years, and that’s how it was for most.
I shook my head and tucked my legs under me, grabbed the remote, and flipped through the channels, ready to numb myself with something forgettable. My body was tired, but my mind was louder than I wanted it to be.
