Page 84 of The Influencer

I nod, patting the mattress beside me and then giving my beard an extra wipe to make sure my masturbating to the sounds of him with another man doesn’t show. Not that I think he’d mind, but there are some things I like to keep to myself. He walks over, crawls onto the bed, and sits, looking down at me. “Do you need some clothes?”

“If you have any. No rush.”

“I have a Superman costume I think you’d look great in,” he jokes. There’s something vulnerable in his eyes I’ve never seen before. It makes me tense, but it also makes me take his hand.

He sighs when our palms meet, and I relax some, too.

“So, as I was saying. You’re welcome to crash here. You can have the room for however long you need it.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll think about it.” Part of me means that, but another part thinks it’s a terrible, stupid idea. Self-destruction on steroids. “You smell great,” I admit.

“I showered. Brushed my teeth. Gargled with antiseptic mouthwash.”

He’s killing me. Completely, fucking, murdering me. So sweet. “Fuck, precious, come here.” I give his hand a tug, and he falls onto his side, eagerly winding his arm around my chest and draping his leg over my lap. His nose presses into my deltoid and I reach over to run my fingers through his wet hair.

“What are you watching?” he asks, his voice soft and light.

“I was watching Love Island, but it’s over now.”

“Isn’t Kennedy such a bitch?”

“Which one was she?”

“The one with the tramp stamp.”

I chuckle. “Right. Yeah, no I don’t think she’s there for the right reasons.”

“I like Luke, though,” Jade says sleepily. “I hope he finds his person.”

“As long as it’s not Kennedy,” I say.

He sighs. “Exactly.”

“Sleepy?”

“Maybe.”

“That guy wear you out?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t mind,” I tell him.

“Wish you did,” he whispers until his breathing stutters before evening out. He literally fell asleep mid-sentence.

I’d love to get into the spirit of sleep, too—it’s not like my office chair last night was comfortable, but Jade’s firm, warm, clean body is very distracting. I take some liberties with it. Nothing depraved or anything. Just some slow strokes up his thigh, some sniffs of his hair.

He’s trouble for sure. Pushing buttons I don’t remember having before I met him. And he is so fucking hot, it’s hard to put into words. Liking him was my first mistake, but the ship has sailed.

He wakes up after a few minutes and draws his head back from my shoulder. “Sorry. I drifted.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him.

“I’m like all over you.”

“Don’t mind.”

“I had a few sips of vodka before,” he says.

---