Page 57 of The Influencer

I pull out my phone as I set aside his laptop, making sure he knows I’m starting a timer. As soon as the first tenth of a second passes, his body stretches toward me, and with his hand on my cheek, he turns my face to his. Then his mouth is on mine.

To be fair—there’s a big difference between stale coffee breath and tasting like coffee. His vanilla latte tastes delicious on his eager tongue and luscious lips, and suddenly I can’t get enough. Before I know it, he’s crawled onto my lap, and we’re making out like eighth graders in a stairwell. It’s messy, untamed, and rushed like we could be caught any second. But then again, maybe he only has twenty or thirty bucks to spare. Although, I now know that’s not true. We could kiss until New Year’s, and he’d still be able to buy a nice steak dinner afterward.

I hold him by the waist, and he holds my face as he starts to rise and fall on my lap, rubbing our cocks together through our clothes in a languid rhythm that belies the feral nature of our kiss. My hands slide down to cup his ass, and he presses his tongue so deep in my mouth, I groan. I’m really fucking glad I came over, and I’m even more glad that he’s terrible at spreadsheets.

He takes off his glasses and tosses them aside, driving his mouth even harder onto mine. I run my hands up his back, beneath his loose sweater, the feel of his skin is like heated satin. I’ve never felt anything so perfectly smooth. I think I might kill him if he ever lets anyone tattoo him, and I wonder if that’s how he feels about laser freckle removal. There’s not a thing I would change about his body or his breath. Or this moment.

“Will you fuck me?” he whispers.

“If you want. It’s gonna cost you, though.”

He pants against my mouth. “How much?”

“You have to agree to see me one more time this week.”

“Jesus, that’s steep.”

“Deal, or no deal?”

“Can I get back to you with a date and time?” he asks, nibbling my lip.

I pull my head back so I can look at him. “No.”

“Fuck,” he whines, reaching over for his phone, slouching back on my thighs, and frowning down at his screen. “Saturday morning?”

“I have plans,” I say. That’s when Olivia comes home. “What else you got?”

He bites his lip, whipping his fingertip all over his phone. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “Um…”

I don’t mind waiting. Honestly, seeing him like this is only getting me harder. I massage his legs while he looks, making him squirm even as he maintains complete focus on his task.

“Thursday night. Fuck.”

“You need to reschedule something? Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

When our eyes meet, he looks genuinely scared. “You promise you’ll show up?”

“Of course. Unless something terrible happens to me.”

He puts a hand on my chest and holds it there, like he wants to make sure I don’t move. Meanwhile, he puts through a call and holds the phone up to his ear. Our gazes lock as he speaks. “Ben, hi—it’s Jade.” He giggles. “Right, I know… how are you?”

I watch and listen, fascinated. His voice is different. Peppy and flirty. “Sooo… I’m calling because I need a big, huge favor. Can we reschedule Thursday night and do Saturday morning instead? You can? Oh my god, I love you.” He giggles again, and I roll my eyes, breaking our eye contact and looking toward the window. Nice view. “Yeah, me too,” he says to Ben. “Okay, see you then. Bye.”

“Who’s Ben?”

“The person I had plans with Thursday night, but I’m free now.” He frowns when he sees the displeased expression on my face. “Unless you changed your mind.”

I grip his ass and scoot him close to me again. Our chests meet, and our noses bump. “Is he a friend or a collaborator?”

“He’s…both.”

I bite Jade’s bottom lip and give it a quick tug before releasing it.

This is a mistake.

It’s such a huge mistake, there’s no spreadsheet in the world that would be able to calculate the damage this thing I have for Jade Sloane is going to do to me.

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