Page 25 of Boyfriend Maintenance

This kiss is passionate and reckless. My fingers dig into his hair as he pulls me to the edge of the counter. With one arm wrapped around my waist, he slides his other hand across my hip and down my thigh, hiking my leg up higher on his hip. The feeling of his hot, rough hands on my bare thigh pulls a moan from me. And that moan is all the permission he needs to keep going.

His hand slides further up my thigh, delving under my dress. I feel it slowly crawl across my hot skin. I’m on fire everywhere he touches. When his fingers reach the apex of my thigh, I gasp in anticipation. The need for him to go further is undeniable. He pauses only for the slightest moment before he brushes his finger over my lace-covered sex. Once, then twice before his thumb dips under the lace. A moan escapes him as he feels how molten hot I am for him.

Sliding my palms to either side of his neck, I can't seem to get close enough. I slide my tongue against his, tasting a hint of whiskey. Growling, he palms my breast through my dress. I tug at the hem of his shirt, wanting nothing between us. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. I jump and Jake takes a giant step back. I look to the door as I hear my brother from the other side.

“Might want to consider just getting a room.” Levi doesn’t say anything else, so I assume he walked away.

Still trying to catch my breath, I lean over and turn off the faucet. Jake stands there, almost looking angry, his chest straining against his shirt with each heaving breath. Color me confused because it sure felt like he was enjoying what was just happening.

I repeat my earlier question, “What was that?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He breaks eye contact and adjusts himself through his pants. “But I think it’s time for me to take you home.”

He brushes past me and lets himself out of our bubble of lust.

I can tell by his behavior now that he doesn't mean we’ll be continuing this later at my apartment. Whatever he may think that was just now, it most certainly did not feel fake.

Chapter 12

Jake

I glanceat my phone as it rings and decide to let another call from Emmy go to voicemail. It’s been a little more than a week since the engagement party. I haven’t seen or heard from Emmy until yesterday. It had been radio silence for the both of us after I dropped her off at her apartment. I wasn’t very gentlemanly about it either. I was so caught up in my head about what the hell had happened with us in the ladies' room that I pushed the door open, helped her out of the cab, told her good night and that was it. I watched from the cab as she made it inside the building and then had the taxi take me home.

At first, I only received a couple of texts from her, about needing to talk to me about the shower coming up this weekend. Then last night, she called me. She left a huffy message about needing a quick chat. I hate to admit it, but I’ve been hiding from her. I’ve been on call, but I’m not the only one. I’ve asked some of the other guys to take any calls that have been near her floor or in public areas throughout the building. But I need to get over it and find her since the shower is in a few days.

I guess I’ve been avoiding her because I don’t want to talk about our make out. It was fucking hot, and I was so into it. Until I remembered that she is a Madison resident, not to mention she was paying me to be her fake boyfriend. Clearly, I’m attracted to her, but I needed to put some space between us. I don’t blame her for being huffy at me.

Cut to today. There’s an issue with one of the elevators, some buttons need to be replaced. Since I’m the only one here right now, I can’t delegate the task to someone else. I’m going to have to stop hiding.

I don’t even get both feet out of the maintenance office when I come face-to-face with a hopping-mad Emmy.

“Oh, so you weren’t abducted by aliens?” Emmy stands there in a cream-colored dress. The heels she’s wearing show off her killer legs—legs I had wrapped around me just a week ago. She must be coming from work since I know what she wears around her apartment and this isn’t it. I can’t decide which look I prefer. Her professional look or her laid-back, couldn’t-care-less look. I do know that her “out on the town” look from the other night nearly knocked me on my ass.

“Nope. Just stupid busy with work.” I pull my gaze away from her sexy figure and walk right on past her. “I’m actually on my way to fix the elevator.”

She follows me. I knew she would, she clearly has a bone to pick. This should be fun.

“Right. Well, you’re ghosting me, and I don’t like it.”

I fight back an answering grin. She’s cute when she’s mad.

“Whatever. Look, I need to talk to you about the shower. The venue changed last minute, it’s now at my parents’ house. I just wanted to prepare you but since you’re too busy being an ass, that’s fine too.”

I can’t help it, her sass is fun. I just keep ignoring her as I stop at the elevator in need of repair. I open it up and turn the key to shut it down. The door will be stuck in the open position until I’m done with my work. While I’m in the giant metal box, she teeters right outside. She crosses her arms and pops out her hip when I don’t say anything.

“I don’t know what your problem is, and I don’t care, but you don’t get to be a jerk to me.”

I steal a glance at her, and while she looks pissed, I can see a tiny bit of vulnerability in her eyes. She’s hurt by the way I’ve behaved since attacking her mouth. Her fucking delicious mouth.

I sigh and give her my full attention. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” As soon as I say this, I realize I didn’t specify which reason I’m apologizing for, the “being a jerk and ghosting her” part, or the “making out with her” part. If I’m honest, I don’t know which one either.

She registers the wording and her expression goes blank. “Good. You have a job to do, so buck up and do it.”

Of course, a reminder about what this thing between us really is. A business transaction. I roll my eyes as I turn back to the button panel in the elevator. “Look, this will take me just a few minutes to fix. If you wait for me over in the lobby, we can talk when I’m done.” I nod to the plush couches across the way.

She doesn’t say a word but turns and walks toward them. I pretend to not watch those legs I’ve been dreaming about for the past seven nights as they glide away from me.

I keep up my end of the deal and head over to the couch once I’ve completed the elevator repair. She’s sitting on a couch, with her legs crossed at the ankles, staring at her phone. I recognize the upwards swipe of her finger on the phone and can’t help the smile.

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