Page 143 of The Influencer

“Where did you learn to drive like this?” I ask, impressed.

He keeps his eyes glued to the highway. “Houston. You wanna date other people?”

“Well, it’s semantics, isn’t it? Grindr is technically a dating app, but no one uses it except to hook up, so two plus two means fucking and dating are pretty much the same thing in my world.”

“Well, in my world, dating implies a certain interest in getting to know someone with their clothes on. Fucking, therefore, is the exact opposite,” he snaps.

Now I’m truly enjoying this. “So, are you and I dating or fucking?”

“We’re—” Another speeding car cuts him off, and he lays a hand hard on the horn, swerving to take the next exit. “Is this some game to you?” he asks, slowing to a stop at the red light.

“I actually feel like you’re the one playing games,” I say. “Seeing how much you can push at the edges of whatever’s going on between us to figure out what it actually is for you. I already told you how I feel.”

“So, you’re sticking with that?” he asks.

“What? That I’m in love with you? Yeah.” I nod firmly. “I’m sticking with it.”

“You have a weird way of showing it.”

I give him a flat look. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which one?” he asks. “The fucking or dating one?”

“That’s the one.”

“Both,” he says.

I grimace. “Really?”

“Was this not a date?” He gestures in the direction we just came from.

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t really date.”

“Jade…” He’s totally exasperated.

If I wanted a reaction, I’ve gotten one. I’m just not sure what to call it yet.

The light turns green, and he growls with annoyance, putting his foot on the gas, though he seems reluctant to do it. “Okay, fine,” he blurts. “I don’t love the idea of you going out with some pretty dude you meet on Grindr and letting him buy you dinner and drinks. It makes me feel gross, and I already know I’m not your damn type.”

“But bringing him back to our place and letting him stick his cock in my ass is fine by you.”

He exhales harshly through his nose—seething. Then, with no warning, he grabs my hand and puts it on his lap where the bulge of his rock-hard erection presses back against my palm.

It takes my dizzy brain a moment to process what he’s trying to communicate with me, but I catch on after a moment.

It does turn him on. The idea of me with someone else. What I’d like, more than anything tonight, is to understand why that hurts. But that’s my riddle to solve. I do love him, though. A lot. Like probably more than is normal or healthy, and if I ever want a chance of him loving me back, I guess I need to become the guy he blew up his life for once already. Because obviously the current monogamous version of me isn’t enough.

40

asher

For someone who had as much to drink as Jade did tonight, he’s very clear with his word choices, and surprisingly steady on his feet as we make our way into his condo. Watching him dance for two hours with other men was like having my dick fondled but not stroked. Licked but not sucked. It was sick, twisted torture, and I’d let it go on too long because I’d enjoyed it too much. And not just because it was a turn-on, but because I knew who he was coming home with.

Jade goes straight for the fridge and gulps an entire bottle of water with his head tipped back, his throat bobbing, and his hair falling away from his face. He’s a fucking vision, as usual, especially with the suspenders down around his thighs, and his shirt unbuttoned at the neck. I shrug off my jacket and loosen my tie as he refills the bottle and goes for round two.

The drive home took about forty-five minutes, and while I know that doesn’t make him exactly sober, he doesn’t seem like he’s in blackout territory. He’s way too lucid.

When he turns, he looks surprised to find me watching him. “Can I help you?” he asks.

---