Page 39 of The Naughty List
JONAH
NAUGHTY OR NICE
Iuse the brisk walk in the freezing cold to clear my head.
The really fucked up thing is, I brought this misery upon myself.
Hollis, in that damn elf outfit, has worked me over all night. So when the torture was finally coming to an end, what did I do?
Iprolongedit.
Sure, half-naked Hollis, let’s make gingerbread houses at my place.I could be buried balls deep in the blond sales girl from Henry Bear’s right now, but no. I’m a self-destructive masochist insistent upon torturing myself to death with forbidden fruit instead.
My breath comes out in white puffs of steam as the boys finish their business. The cold air makes my lungs ache but I welcome the pain. I need to cool down from the inside out anyway. Freeze my adrenaline solid so I won’t act on the salacious impulses assaulting my mind.
“I can do this, right?” I ask them, once I’ve retrieved and discarded the messes they made. “We can handle hanging out with Hollis, can’t we?”
Zeus looks at me like I’m being ridiculous.
“No big, just two grown adults making some gingerbread houses,” I reassure myself.
Once we’re back in the building absorbing the warmth of the great indoors, I feel better.
My head is clear.
I am in control. Always.
She almost got me in the lingerie store. I almost unleashed my unfiltered, fucked up self on her. But I didn’t and if I survived that, I can survive anything.
I’m damn near chipper on the elevator. That boost of confidence carries me all the way back inside the apartment.
I’m good. I’ve pulled it together. Mostly.
Right up until I see her, bent over my kitchen counter, aggressively kneading dough with her delicate hands.
My greedy gaze starts at her bare feet, where she stands on her tiptoes. It travels up her firm calves, to those thick, toned thighs that almost sent me over the edge just a few hours ago.
Her ass is round and pushes her skirt outward just the right amount.
She rolls the dough with a wooden rolling pin she must’ve brought then turns to me. “Oh, good, you’re back!”
I blink and my mouth goes instantly dry.
I can’t swallow. I can’t fucking breathe.
She picks up a bag of icing and moves toward me.
On my twenty-first birthday, I had two well-known porn stars in the back of a stretch Hummer limousine. They were insatiable, as hungry for each other as they were for me. It was in the beginning of my MMA career. We were all various versions of drunk or high, and though the memory is hazy, it was arguably the hottest experience of my life.
Right up until now.
Hollis Rossi, walking toward me with a bag of icing.
My heart thuds heavily in my chest.
“Here,” she says, thrusting a white cone-shaped bag into my hands. “I need your construction expertise on these houses.”
Completely oblivious to the fact that I’m in the midst of a mental breakdown, Hollis puts me to work constructing houses while she cuts out cookies. I’ve just finished the first one, roof and all, when she turns to me.
