Page 69 of The Influencer

I hang up, turn my face into the pillow and fall into a deep, all-consuming sleep.

19

asher

This is the first time I’ve been nervous to see Jade. It could be the guilt catching up with me—a fear of getting caught, even though there’s virtually no chance of that. Or it could have to do with how much I enjoyed lingering at his condo the other night and not leaving right after we had sex, even though I probably should have headed home right after. I understand what this is. Who he is to me, and what I am to him.

For me, he’s the wake-up call I needed to finally admit to myself I need to end things with Liv. He was so irresistibly perfect it was almost beyond my control to take him, but what I’d discovered was that I hadn’t wanted to control myself around him, and that said more about the relationship I’m in than anything else has in the last year and a half. I want sex, and plenty of it. I want to be wanted for everything I have to offer and not just as a feather in Liv’s cap to prove she has the ability to “catch a man.”

I actually enjoy the lack of certainty. The anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach. The newness of all this. Jade is a phase, and I plan to enjoy it. I’ve been attracted to both men and women for as long as I can remember, but ever since Olivia metaphorically kicked me out of her bed, it’s been men more than anything that have captured my attention. I’m not gonna say Olivia turned me off women for good, but it’s hard to believe a man would ever put me through what she seems to have no problem making me deal with.

I put extra thought into my appearance after my day at work and a hard workout at the gym. I trim my beard and blow-dry my hair before finally settling on the eleventh bun I work it into. I even grab my razor and do a little manscaping—something I literally never bother with. I iron a white button-down and put it on over a muscle tank. I accessorize my jeans with my non-ironic wallet chain—using a triple chain this time to really get under Jade’s skin, and I strap the same leather cuff I’d worn the other night to my wrist. Tonight—to give Jade something else to ponder, I wear the cross necklace my mom gave me for high school graduation.

I like the idea of it swinging over his face while I fuck him on his back. And yes, the cross is ironic. But even I can admit it looks good on me.

And after all that work—Jade Sloane answers his door in a robe.

I give him an exasperated look as I stare at him across the threshold.

“What?” he asks with an innocent flutter of his long lashes.

“Thanks for dressing up.”

He fakes a pout even as he scans me from head to toe. “You don’t like it?”

The robe is shapeless and boring. A thick, pink, terry-cloth classic. I swear my mother wore one just like it when Adam and I were growing up. However—his hair is perfect, and his face is glowing with youth and good skin care products. He smells sweet and luscious. I eye the tie of the robe. Loose and easy to open. “It’s great.”

He preens. “In that case, come on in.”

Walking away from the door, he leaves me to follow and close it behind me. He goes straight to the bedroom, not even pausing by the sofa. “You don’t like the robe, I can tell,” he says when we arrive at the foot of the bed.

“It doesn’t scream you right off the top, but we haven’t known each other that long. I like never knowing what I’m going to get.”

“Then I’d be curious what you think about this.”

He flicks the loose tie, opens the robe, and sheds it with a flourish. Beneath is, by far, the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen on an adult.

It’s a skintight Superman costume that hides nothing. Not even the line differentiating his balls.

I press my lips together, trying not to laugh out loud, but my eyes don’t hide a thing if the way he’s grinning at me is anything to go off.

“Man of Steel, huh?” I ask.

“That’s right. Any questions?”

“Nope.”

It’s so damn hot, I don’t know where to start. His shoulder muscles stand out in sharp relief beneath the royal blue spandex, tapering down to his small waist and narrow hips. “Turn around,” I say.

He’s happy to oblige, and I get an eyeful of his perfectly sculpted ass. Two round globes of pure muscle top his strong quads, which eventually give way to shapely calves. The fabric stops at his ankles and his feet are bare. The sight of his naked ankles is almost obscene, leaving it difficult for me to imagine how anyone else could possibly be this fun and sexy.

The zipper in the back of the costume goes all the way down to the top of his ass crack, and I have a strong urge to open it immediately, but what a waste that would be.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with you in this?”

“Maybe that’s not the right question,” he says, turning to look at me again.

“You’re full of surprises tonight.”

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