It takes me a couple minutes to soften and get up. When I leave his office, he’s outside with a knowing look, eating his donut.
“See you later,” he says with a grin.
He fucking did that on purpose.
When I get back to the house, I tear my clothes off. It’ll be a few hours before Jordan gets off work, and therefore, I’ve got enough privacy to do what I need to without interruption.
Though, as I find my cock and wrap my hand around it, my thumb sliding through my precum, I think if he walked in on me and found me jerking off on his couch, it would only make me harder.
I do love to give a good performance, after all.
It doesn’t take me long to come. Just the thought of him walking in on me, watching me, jerking off next to me, has me coming in seconds. I stare at the ceiling,catching my breath when I notice how beautiful they are. I bet a chandelier would look bitching in here.
I let out a heavy breath as I get up and head into the bathroom to shower. Afterwards, I grab my keys and head to the store to see if I can find a chandelier—I do.
It’s big and ornate and bright as hell, all dark grey and metal with shards of glass that look sharp yet pretty, and masculine enough I think Mack will love it. Plus, it’ll light up the whole room.
When I get back, I swap out the simple, round light and replace it with the chandelier. It takes a couple hours to make sure everything is hooked up right, because I take breaks to rest my knee, but I get everything where it needs to be. I take a step back to look at my handiwork. The light refracts off the glass and I grin. I check my watch and realize Jordan will be home in an hour, which is just enough time for me to throw something together for dinner.
I collapse on the couch as the food cooks and stare up at my work, getting lost in the beauty of the glass and the ornate vine-like metal that shimmers from the light.
It’s dark and twisty, but pretty as hell, and it looks fucking gorgeous with all this natural wood panelling, but it’ll look even better once I get the kitchen done.
I get lost in the sight so much that I barely hear the door open. I sit up straighter, noticing Mack standing in the doorway, staring at me.
“Hey,” he says, eyes lifting to the chandelier just as the oven goes off.
“Yes! Dinner’s finally ready!” I say as my stomach growls. I get up and hurry to the oven, but his firm grasp on my wrist stops me.
I stumble backwards, falling into his proximity.
I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. His thumb slides over my wrist and those amber eyes fixate on my mouth.
I think he wants to kiss me.
My gaze drops to his pillowy lips. I want to kiss him so badly, but I know how this ends.
The first time was bad enough.
The second time was bad, too.
Do I really have it in me to go another round with Jordan Mackenzie?
Can I handle the fallout if I know it’s coming?
Yes. I can take it. I can take him.
Fuck, I want to take every bit of him in more ways than one.
I lick my lips, wanting nothing more than to taste him, to push him against the counter and devour him. Something tells me he wouldn’t fight me one bit if I did that.
But maybe I want him to kiss me. Maybe I want him to run those hands over me and make me feel good. Maybe I want to see what he’s willing to giveme.
Hypothetically, of course.
The oven timer keeps beeping like a damn fire alarm.
I lean in just a fraction, and I wait for just a second, watching his gaze drop to my mouth before I pull away.
