He nods. Still very naked. Still not reaching for his clothes.
“So I need to know, and I’m asking for my own peace of mind—you’re not attracted to me. Right?”
His answer is immediate. “No.”
Ouch.The small, stupid part of me that was still dreaming deflates a little.
“Good.” I smile. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”
I push off the desk and take a step toward him. Then another.
“You won’t mind if I make sure, then. Forced proximity does things to people.”
His mouth opens. He’s about to say something, but I don’t wait for it. My hand reaches forward and closes around his cock.
3
Kai
HER HAND IS choking my cock, and she’s asking me questions.
I don’t hear the question. Every nerve ending in my body has abandoned its post and rerouted to the five fingers wrapped around me, and whatever she said dissolves before it reaches the part of my brain responsible for language.
She said something. Her lips moved. I saw them move, but the words are arriving late, like light from a dead star.
Damn it.This is not good.
My cock is thickening in her grip. The semi I blamed on sparring is now a full-blown problem, and the excuse I gave her is about to collapse under the weight of the obvious. Blood flow from kickboxing bullshit.Blood flow from kickboxing doesn’t do this to me.
She strokes me.
One slow pull, base to the tip, her thumb dragging along the underside, and my hand shoots to her wrist on instinct. If she keeps doing that, I’m going to finish in the middle of this interview. There isn’t a man alive who’d react differently.
She looks down at where my fingers are circling her wrist, then back up at me. Her face gives me nothing.
One second. Two.
Then a lightbulb.
Fucking hell. This is it, my opening. TheinI’ve been building toward for years, the door I’ve been standing outside of, waitingfor the lock to click. And it’s clicking. Right now. Her hand on my cock, her eyes on my face, and the lock is clicking.
The universe doesn’t hand out opportunities this clean. You plan. You burn years of your life down to the studs planning, and you wait, and you swallow the waiting, and then one day the target’s girlfriend wraps her fingers around you and the entire plan recalibrates in real time.
I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this is happening right now. The plan I’ve spent years sharpening gets even sharper.
Blackmail was the play. But this, it’s a cleaner weapon. Why didn’t I think of this before? No time to sit with the question now because the answer is already here, dropped not into my lap but onto my cock, and I’ll take it for the mana it is.
If I fuck this woman, Jack Rutherford doesn’t just lose her. He loses face. Every paper runs the same headline, and he opens his morning coffee to find out his girlfriend has been taking another man’s cock.
Hisunwantedson’s cock. I let my hand fall away from her wrist.
“If this is you making sure,” I hold her gaze, let the sentence sit there long enough to mean what I need it to mean. “Go for it.”
Her eyes change. Not the color. The temperature. She’s assessing me. I can feel it.
She strokes me again, but there’s no pretense of a test this time. Her thumb drags across the slit, teases the precum out of me, and works it over the head in slow circles. The fluid beads up too fast, too eager, and I watch her fingers gloss themselves. My cock swells harder in her fist, dark and angry.
“It’s impressive,” she says, conversational.