Once I’m done pissing, I wash my hands and give myself a little pep talk in the mirror, remembering that I’m better than that prick, even though I’m not the third of some empire.
When I open the door, ready to leave this place entirely, a fury of red hair, green satin, and creamy freckled skin shoves me back inside. She locks the door and then meets my eyes with rage plastered all over her pretty face.
“What the hell was that!” Gen explodes, barely managing to contain her voice. She is ridiculously hot when angry, but I do my best to dismiss it and handle this seriously.
“What?”
“This is my life, Jacob! Myreallife. You can’t sabotage it because you feel offended.”
“I was appalled, not offended.”
“What did you think you would accomplish with that caveman display of ownership?”
“Nothing, really. I was just curious to meet the man who spent five years with you and never even learned to fuck you properly. And now that I have, I can confirm that I don’t fucking get it, Genevieve.”
“Get what?”
“Why are you wasting your time with that cunt?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why would you even entertain the possibility of him?”
“I—Eddie is a friend, Jake. We dated for five years, and I’ve known him for even longer than that. He knows me more than anybody else, and there willalwaysbe something between us.”
“He didn’t know you, or he wouldn’t have left you. He’s a fucking loser.”
That one might be a low blow, but she needs to hear it. Those five years she spent with him mean nothing if he couldn’t love her enough to fight for her.
“So what?” she snarls. “You think you know me better than he does?”
“Honestly? I think you don’t even know yourself, Genevieve. You have this idea of who you want to be, this proper little Upper East Side lawyer, but then you come tometo feel alive. I’m the opposite of what you want, red, yet it looks like I’m what you need.”
That one hits her like a slap. She never noticed her duality, did she? There are two sides to her. The one that demands that I stay away so we won’t be discovered, and the one that can’t help but flirt back. The one that drafts an exhaustive sex contract and the one that begs me to choke her in the dark back room of a shady bar. It’s like there’s the person she should be and the person who craves to get out of the rigid frame she built for herself.
“We’re just having sex, Jake. You’re helping me with my list, and then I’ll be with whoever I want.”
Now, it’s my turn to endure the blow. Shit, we’re as good at hurting as we are at pleasuring.
“I know that, and I’m fine with it. I don’t need anything more. But please, not him. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“You don’t know him, Jake.”
“I know enough.”
She rolls her eyes, unconvinced. “He’s a good man. He respects me, and our energies match perfectly. Also, you can think whatever you want of Edward, but at leasthetold me I look beautiful tonight.”
Now she’s making stupid excuses for him, which pisses me off. I move closer to her, and it has her backing away until she’s pressed against the slick marble wall by the sink.
“Is that it? Is the bar so fucking low that that’s enough? You want me to call you pretty? To tell you that dress was made for you? That this color exists solely to compliment your skin? Or would you maybe prefer the crude truth?”
She blinks several times, struggling to process the ardent words I can’t stop from pouring out.
“The truth, red, is that you look so fucking stunning that I’ve been sporting a semi since I noticed you. But then, you’re always so fuckable it’s ridiculous. I don’t care if my cock needs to rest and your pussy can’t take more of me—I would’ve pinned you down and fucked you if there weren’t a hundred witnesses around us.”
Nothing comes when she tries to speak, so she licks her lips, her pink tongue dragging over their plumpness, and tries again.
“You really think I’m stunning?”
