Page 81 of Something So Strong

Wrapping his lips around his teeth and biting down, Jesse presses for the elevator and turns his back to me.

“You’re not gonna start ignoring me already, are you?” I put my hands in my pockets and lean my chin on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna have to if I ever plan on getting anything done without a constant erection.”

He does have a point.

The pair of us working together is really fucking bad as far as productivity goes, but it’s a struggle I’m willing to endure.

“You look like you slept in your uniform, by the way,” I tell him as I walk backward into the open elevator. He stares at me with a look that could kill, but it only makes me laugh. “Don’t you dare think about blaming me. You’re the one who lives like a slob.”

“But you’re the one who threw them on the floor.” He tries to argue with me.

“There are twenty-four hours in a day, Jesse. You had plenty of time to pick them up.”

“But I was in a post nut coma,” he pouts, turning towards me and staring deeply like he’s reliving the play-by-play in real time.

“Now who’s teasing who?”

With a cheeky shrug, he turns back away from me and leaves the elevator.

In the kitchen, several people attempt to ask me about my face, but they all sound like the teacher from Peanuts. ‘Wha wha wha’ is all I hear because the only thing I can focus on is how I never noticed before that I can see the slightest outline of Jesse’s ribs through his shirt when it’s stretched over his sides.

I like how slim he is. Which is weird, because I hate it in women. But with Jesse, he’s smaller than me. His body is still defined, but lithe. Not overly threatening, yet still strong. And I have the bruise to prove it.

With a smile, he hands me the coffee he prepared, and without so much as a nod goodbye to the person talking to the side of my head, I follow him like a moth drawn to a flame, discovering more things about him by the second that my eyes had never been clear enough to see. Like how when he sniffles, he rubs his lips together afterward. How, without his tie to cover it, you can see some of the sparse blond hairs on his chest when he takes a deep breath. Or how when we head outside, he switches his coffee from his hand closest to me to the outside one and moves closer to my side.

“Do you wanna hold my hand?” I ask smugly.

“No!” he blurts out, embarrassed at being caught.

“I don’t believe you,” I tell him as his chin lowers ever so slightly. So, forty percent for him and sixty percent for my own self indulgence, I run the back of my hand across his and start by hooking our pinkies together, then wrap my hand around his until our fingers intertwine.

I don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling, because I am too. Just like I know that holding my hand isn’t giving him nearly enough of what he needs.

“You really should learn to tie this yourself.” I torment him once we reach the back door of the hotel.

Assuming the position like it’s a pre-scripted role play, Jesse takes my coffee and watches as I step as close to him as physically possible whilst still being able to tie his tie.

“You’re the one who undid it, remember?” His words beat against my neck.

“Would you have rathered we left our clothes on?” I rebut—trying to keep a straight face.

“Would you?”

“Right now, I wanna tear this crinkled uniform off you and lick your entire body.”

“You think you can wait eight hours?”

“Maybe.” I tug the knot tight, look him dead in the eye, and indulge myself.

Crashing my lips against his with no regard for time or place, I grab his hips and force him against the wall. With a coffee in each hand, Jesse allows himself to be submissive. Pinned down and defenseless. Just like he thinks I want.

The back door opens, but I ignore it.

I know we’re not alone, but I don’t care who sees.

“You’re lucky there’s no camera back here.”

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