Page 22 of Brazen Deceits

He scans the front hall and front porch with a device he pulls from his hoodie pocket that attaches to the tablet, leaving Jansen and me alone in the living room. Flopping back down onto his chest, I tuck my nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his clean laundry and sandalwood scent. I stay there, warm and comfy, as Jansen spins my curls through his fingers, his phone holding his attention in his other hand.

After a while, I peek up at him. “Say, Jansen?”

“Yeah, beautiful?”

“Am I part of the team now?”

Jansen chuckles. “I think you’re on probation, or maybe an intern, if I’m reading Trips right. We’re trying you out.”

I push back from his chest, raising a teasing eyebrow. “You’re trying me out? Is that what we did this morning?”

Jansen drops his phone onto the coffee table, wrapping both of his arms around my waist. “That wasn’t part of the job description, but if it’s on the table, I’d love to negotiate for more of that experience.”

I laugh before kissing him, his lips soft, eager. “Maybe it’s my turn to interview you. How else am I going to figure out if this position has adequate benefits for me to pursue?”

He answers by trailing his lips down the side of my neck, one hand sliding under the waistband of my pants to clutch my ass. I dig my hand into the cool strands of his hair, the long length slinking over the backs of my hands.

The kiss is slow, luxuriating in the stolen moment alone, the heat of his palm on my ass searing, the coaxing of his tongue mesmerizing.

Just as I’m ready to drag Jansen back to my room, my phone jingles. Barely kicking my brain into gear, I remember I asked RJ to go for a run.

My God. What is wrong with me today? Did a few weeks of avoiding the guys dam up my hormones or something?

I pull away from Jansen, creating a sliver of space between us, his palm still warm against my ass. “Hey,” I manage.

Jansen’s green eyes catch mine, a smile curving one side of his lips. “Hey.”

“I, um, I should probably go get ready for my run.”

“You should?” His eyes twinkle as his fingers trace the crease between my ass and thigh, leaving a trail of tingles across my skin. With a glint in his eyes, he dips those damn fingers between my legs from behind, stroking my folds. Surprised, I rub myself against him, my body and my mind running on entirely different programming. Grinning at my lack of self-control, he sneaks his fingers inside of me, his lips stealing the moan that slips out of my mouth.

Damn him. He’s not going to make this easy for me. I want him, but being finger fucked on the couch when I told RJ wewere going for a run? Yeah. Not cool. I may know nothing about trying to balance a bunch of relationships, but even I know that’s an asshole move.

“Jansen. We need to stop. I should, for sure. Stop to get ready, that is,” I stammer.

He pulls his finger out before pressing it back in. It takes all I have not to moan and turn into a puddle. But I manage it. Barely.

My limited reaction has him checking to see if I’m serious about stopping. I am. Or at least, I’m as serious as I can be at this point. With a groan, he gives up, getting to his feet and helping me to mine. Once I’m steady-adjacent, he digs into the couch for my phone, handing it to me with a kiss.

“Later,” he whispers, his tongue tracing the shell of my ear, the move leaving me with jelly legs. I watch his ass much too closely as he walks away; I’m wishing I’d asked RJ for an hour. At least.

Fuck me. Maybe literally. But as that isn’t going to happen just now, I guess I’m just going to have to run it off.

Chapter 12

Clara

By the time I meet RJ in the kitchen, all that’s left of another thwarted orgasm is some anxious energy. Not ideal, but I’m holding Jansen to that “later.” Bundled in layers so I can pull things off as I warm up, I realize how long it’s been since we’ve run together. We were in shorts and tanks that morning, and the guilt of avoiding him almost suffocates me.

RJ’s smile is kind, however. “Hey, you ready?”

“Yup. I just need to fill up my water.”

He waits quietly while I finish, then follows me out the front. I’d forgotten how RJ creates a bubble of comfortable silence around him, and I want to swim in it. I’ve been alone for the last few weeks, only hanging out with my best friend Emma, but that silence was fraught with anxiety and unshed tears. RJ is the cozy blanket of hushed comfort I’d been craving. I only wish I’d realized it sooner.

“Any destination in mind?” he asks, his breath fogging the chill morning air, his curls held back by an ear warmer instead of his usual headband.

Adjusting my ear warmer, I force the guilt away. “Nowhere in particular. Maybe you want to choose a path for once?”

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