I lift my finger to speak, but he cuts me off.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Kelsey. I’m not here to be friends with you, nor am I here to try to solve any sort of complex you might have about not being liked. I’m here to do a job and I’d prefer you just leave me alone.” He turns away, pushes his hand through his hair, and mutters, “Christ,” right before he slams his door.
Well... that didn’t go as planned.
* * *
Lottie:How did it go? Are things good with you two?
Kelsey:I tricked him with a gas scare, got him out of his room, then flung my body onto his leg. He proceeded to drag me across the penthouse. In my attempt to stop him, I yanked his shorts down, tripped him up, and his penis landed on my face. To sum it up, I would say things are not going well.
Lottie:His penis was on your face? Call me crazy, but that’s a typical Friday night for me and Hux. Seems like things are going swimmingly.
Kelsey:I hate you.
ChapterTen
JP
“You know, maybe we should discuss what we’re going to say in the meeting,” Kelsey says as she fidgets next to me in the car.
Last night was... hell, I don’t even know how to describe what happened last night. If I wasn’t so irritated, I might have actually found it comical. But my irritation turned into anger as I lay in bed because for the fucking life of me, I couldn’t get the feeling of her exasperated breath blowing on my nuts. That breath was the most action I’ve received inmonths.
It tingled.
Felt good.
And before I knew it, I was jacking off in the shower over the goddamn fact that she breathed on my scrotum. I’m so desperateandhorny that I actually liked it.
Let me tell you something, the stark realization of that—of understanding that you’re such a lonely bastard that a woman’s breath on your junk gets you horny—is incredibly unsettling and, frankly, pathetic.
And yet, there I was last night, hammering away on my dick because, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to get any sleep.
I woke up this morning, unable to think any less of myself.
In an attempt to lift my self-esteem, I went to the gym, stared at myself in the mirror while doing bicep curls and listening to Adele—Easy on Me—and recited affirmations in my head.
You are strong.
You are handsome.
You’re not a pathetic loser who jacks off to a simple exhalation.
Once I repeated that mantra over and over in my head, I went back to my room, opened my computer, and donated ten thousand dollars to a pigeon rescue, because in all honesty, I doubt many people care about pigeons at all.
From the combination of seeing my biceps work in their pure form, Adele’s uplifting voice, my affirmations, and a solid donation... I felt better about myself and felt confident I could face this day head-on.
That was, until Kelsey appeared from her room wearing a skintight pencil skirt, which hits just above her calves, and a black, sleeveless turtleneck. She smelled like a goddamn angel sent from above and looked like hell on heels with her voluptuous hair in waves hanging loosely over her shoulders.
Fuck.
Me.
The memory ofthe exhalation—that’s what we’ll call it now—came roaring back to life, and I had to turn away to hide any impending excitement.
You are strong.
You are handsome.
