Chapter 11

L iam was definitely onto something with the audiobook thing. Holy shit. Jazz had never had such a fun day at work. She'd spent the whole morning plugged into the audiobook he'd recommended—a dark, BDSM romance that hooked her from the first chapter. Was it a little weird to be sitting in Cal's office, working away on her laptop while listening to a filthy audiobook his son had told her to listen to? Definitely, but as far as Cal was concerned, she was listening to a podcast.

Movement caught her eye and Jazz looked up, knowing who had just walked into the office before she'd even paused the book. Only one person made Cal jump to his feet that quickly, his eyes lighting up. They were like fucking magnets.

Jazz begrudgingly turned the book off and removed her headphones.

"Hi, love," Cal said, standing and tugging Maggie into his arms the second she reached the desk .

Jazz rolled her eyes, smiling at them before looking resolutely away from Maggie and Cal as they made out in front of her. She was used to this. And she knew why Maggie was here; the longer she spent making out with Cal, the less time she'd have to grill Jazz. Maybe she could use this time to sneak away… But that would only delay the conversation. It was coming, whether she wanted it or not.

"Ahem," she said, when she started to suspect Maggie and Cal were seconds from ripping their clothes off in front of her. "Please be mindful of the other people in the room before you start climbing each other."

Neither of them looked remotely embarrassed when they broke apart.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming, love?" Cal offered no apology as he took his seat and unabashedly patted his lap in invitation. Maggie looked longingly and sighed before shaking her head.

She held up a bag of subs from their favorite sandwich place. "I can't. I'm here for Jazz, I'm afraid."

"You're afraid?" Jazz replied indignantly, while Cal raised a brow at the bag.

"I thought you seemed cheery this morning," he said. "Good night?" It had been their college tradition for them to debrief their hookups with subs in their cars, and it was a tradition Cal was all too familiar with considering Jazz had once brought subs to the office to debrief Maggie on their first night together.

Fucking hell. She fought to keep a straight face as she looked at the father of the man who'd had his tongue all over her last night. "Yep." She tried her best to look nonchalant. Under no circumstances did Cal need to know about this. She set her laptop on his desk and grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. "Let's do this."

"We'll need to sit in your car. I was working at a site nearby, so I walked over," Maggie said.

"Ah, what a shame. I got a ride this morning." She didn't elaborate—they didn't need to know she'd forgotten to fill her gas tank again. It was bordering on embarrassing how often she forgot. Usually, she had to call Cal and ask him to pick her up on the way to work, but Liam had been more than happy to drive her, promising they'd grab a can of gas and swing by to pick her car up after she finished work. Since he was picking her up anyway, they were going to her apartment tonight, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't hoping he'd spend the night. She'd slept like a damn log in his arms after she'd gotten over her frustration.

And now she had an excuse not to sit in the car with Maggie. If they sat in the kitchen downstairs, she wouldn't be able to ask her about Liam.

"Use my car," Cal offered, grabbing his key fob from the desk and handing it to Maggie. "Do you need a ride home, Jazz?"

"I'm good. Thanks," she said through semi-gritted teeth while Maggie hid her smile behind her hair.

She headed for the door while Maggie and Cal said a highly inappropriate goodbye .

Maggie and Jazz stood in silence as the elevator dropped them down into the parking garage. The silence, awkward on Jazz's side, seemed almost amusing on Maggie's, if the way her lip kept twitching was anything to go by.

The parking garage, while full of cars, was empty of people. Maggie slid into Cal's driver's seat while Jazz climbed into the passenger's side, closing the door and sighing as the luxury seats enveloped her. She wasn't a car snob, but she definitely was a comfy seat snob.

"Before I forget," Maggie began, rummaging around in her bag and pulling out a manilla folder, "Liam asked me to give you this. He specifically told me I wasn't allowed to look, but resigned himself to the fact that you would show me anyway."

Jazz snorted, some of the tension between her and Maggie crumbling. She was being stupid. Maggie knew she and Liam were sleeping together, and she'd had plenty of opportunity since finding out to call and shout at her if she had that much of a problem with it. Would Jazz have answered? Of course not. But voicemails existed.

She and Maggie were best friends, and best friends gave each other shit for who they slept with. But they still showed up with subs to debrief. Girlhood or whatever.

Jazz turned the folder over in her hand, her stomach fluttering as she read the note in Liam's perfect penmanship.

Extra credit, as promised. L x

She opened the folder and withdrew a stapled bundle of printer paper, snorting as she read the contents. It was a kink list, meant for her to rate them on a scale of one to five—one being the least likely to get her close, five being the most.

She scanned the list, whistling. "You definitely don't want to see this." Fuck knows where Liam had found it, but it was extensive. Maggie sighed and held a hand out, despite her warning.

"You listened to me talk about having sex with Cal for weeks when we first started hooking up?—"

"It wasn't a hardship."

"—the least I can do is listen to you now. I've just decided to pretend that Liam isn't Cal's kid. As much as I can, anyway." She wrinkled her nose, and Jazz felt a wave of warmth for her best friend. She handed the list over, and Maggie's eyes widened as she read over it.

"Christ. Okay. Just how kinky is he?" she asked, flipping the page.

Jazz hummed. "It's complicated."

Maggie looked up at her, raising a brow in the universal sign for go on .

It was time. She'd kept this from Maggie for ten years and that was, frankly, ten years too many. She took a deep breath. "Okay, so Liam's a pleasure dom, which means making people come is kind of his thing, which is great except I haven't been able to orgasm for ten years, and no one has ever noticed me faking it, including Liam the first time because we were both so drunk, but he noticed the second time and is determined to help me learn to come again, so we've struck an arrangement where he isn't going to come until I do and he's trying to help me figure out what I actually like, hence the list." She said it all in one long breath and Maggie stared at her, unblinking.

"That is… a lot to unpack," she said finally, tossing the list on the dash. "You haven't had an orgasm in ten years ? What the fuck?"

"Yeah." Jazz gave her a weak smile. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"God. Is everything okay? Have you seen a doctor?"

Jazz gave Maggie the same rundown she'd given Liam, explaining her long, orgasmless, decade. By the time she was done, Maggie looked exhausted on her behalf.

"I'm so sorry you've been dealing with this. I wish you'd told me. Hell, you know I see you like a sister, but I would've taken one for the team and given it my best shot."

"What are friends for, if not for offering to help each other come during orgasm droughts," Jazz said and the two of them dissolved into giggles. She and Maggie had kissed only once, in their freshman year of college when Maggie had first come out as bi, to see if there was anything more between them, and they'd immediately known they were meant to be just friends.

When they were both able to breathe properly again, Maggie asked, "Is Liam seriously not going to let himself come until you do?"

"Yeah. It's unhinged."

"Completely. But also weirdly sweet?"

"That too," she agreed, leaning back against the headrest and smiling, staring out into the grey parking garage and thinking of how caring Liam had been with her the night before—how he'd held her in his arms as they both drifted off to sleep. Despite how crazy he was driving her by not letting her make him come—was this how he felt about her?—she'd had a great night. And she was going to make him come first.

"Jazz."

She started. "Hmm?" When she turned to look at Maggie, her best friend was staring at her with her brows drawn close. "What?"

"It's not just sex, is it? You have feelings for him."

"I—" Jazz's breath caught in her lungs, and she squeezed her eyes together, forcing the anxiety away. Where the hell had that come from ?

She almost lied, no dancing on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself. It felt wrong, somehow, to pretend that what she and Liam had was just sex. Did she have feelings for him? Of course not. Not like Maggie meant, anyway. It just felt more muddled because she'd already cared about him before they started sleeping together. They'd always had a connection. Since that first day when I spotted you at the office, I haven't been able to get you out of my head , Liam had said. She hadn't returned the sentiment, but that didn't mean it wasn't true in reverse.

"It's not just sex, no. But I don't know what exactly it is. And I know it's complicated because we're basically family—in a non-incesty way—but I also don't particularly want to stop doing it."

"I'm not asking you to," Maggie promised. "Just be careful, please? I don't want to see either of you hurt over this."

She didn't want to see Liam hurt, was more like it. There was no world in which Liam could hurt Jazz—he was too perfect—but she was a wildcard. "No one is going to get hurt."

Maggie grabbed the bag of subs and handed one over to Jazz. "Alright. Lay it on me. Lack of orgasm aside, how was it?"

"I swear I filled in the list. I just don't know where it is," Jasmine groaned, leaning down and rummaging in her bag. It was crammed with stuff, most of which Liam could hardly make out, much like her apartment.

He'd expected chaos, this was Jasmine after all, but he hadn't expected this . There was stuff everywhere. Not in a messy way—everything seemed to have a place—there was just a lot of everything. Mostly, Liam was surprised to see, crafting supplies. There were floor to ceiling cabinets stuffed with yarn and fabric, containers of beads and clay and paint. There was a stack of canvasses against the wall, still wrapped in plastic, and a sewing machine box that didn't look like it had ever been opened. In the years he'd known her, Jasmine had never once mentioned crafting. And when he'd asked her about it, she'd quickly changed the subject.

He ran a soothing hand over her back. "Did you fill it in at your desk? You probably just left it in your drawer or something."

Jasmine sat up like a shot. "Oh no."

"What?"

"I left it in your dad's car."

"What the fuck?"

Before she could respond, Jasmine's phone lit up where she'd dropped it on her coffee table, half hidden by the box of cereal she'd been snacking on while they waited for their takeout to arrive.

She grabbed it, holding it out so Liam could see the confirmation message from Maggie:

You left your list in Cal's car.

The message was accompanied by photographs of the list, Jasmine's answers included. It was unsurprisingly helpful of Maggie, even if Liam hated that she knew what they were doing. Jasmine's fingers flew across the phone:

Did he recognize Liam's handwriting?

Somehow not.

Thank fuck.

Not a big fan of lying to my husband, for the record.

"Shit," Liam said, frowning at the message. "This really isn't fair to her." He didn't particularly care if his dad found out about him and Jasmine, but he knew she didn't want him to know.

"It's not," Jasmine agreed with a sigh. "I'll be more careful so it doesn't come up. I'm sorry." Her voice was a mix of guilt and panic, and Liam ran his hand over her back, surprised. It wasn't like her to worry so much.

"You don't have to be sorry. It was a mistake, it happens."

"It was a stupid mistake." She turned back to her phone.

I'm sorry. I love you and we owe you big time!!!!!!!!!

I love you too, and it's fine. He was too distracted by the list to ask too many questions. Going to need a blank copy, please.

"Ugh. I don't need to think about my dad filling that in."

Liam is reading over my shoulder. Pretty sure you've scarred him LOL

That's what he gets for getting me to hand deliver a damn kink list.

He's suffering enough since he's not letting himself come…

Liam plucked the phone from Jasmine's hand, but not fast enough to stop her from sending the message. Perfect.

"Okay, that's enough of that." He pretended to ignore Jasmine's laugh, swiping up the thread until he found the pictures of her answers, but it flooded his senses, warming his blood. That was more like the Jasmine he knew.

He zoomed in, scanning her answers. Everything was as he'd expected based on the night before, but he hadn't given her the list thinking he'd get any new information; she'd asked for extra credit and there was only so much he could suggest she do at work. And the list was helpful to have a note of her limits. He wanted to be clear on what was and what wasn't okay.

"So what do I get as my reward for extra credit?" Jasmine asked as he scanned the list.

"Whatever you want, darling. Within reason," he added, as she smirked. "You're not going to get me to come."

"I want to at least try." She slid off the couch, sinking to her knees before him. Jesus Christ. Someone, somewhere, was testing him.

"Jasmine—"

"You said whatever I wanted," she reminded him, flicking open the button on his jeans and tugging the zip down, torturously slowly.

"Fuck," was all he could say as she pushed his boxers down and freed his cock. She wrapped her hand around him, warm and soft, and Liam closed his eyes, leaning back against the well-loved gray couch.

"I want you to watch," she said, her voice low and Liam begged the universe for a little self control as he opened his eyes and looked down at her, just in time for her to bend her head and take him in her mouth.

Fuck, fuck, fuck .

His hips strained with the effort it took not to thrust into her mouth, and Jasmine knew it. She looked up at him through her thick lashes as she fisted the base of his cock, taking him as deep as possible. Liam's eyes threatened to flutter close as she neared the back of her throat—he absolutely couldn't handle her gagging. He was already teetering on the edge of a cliff.

Of course, he needn't have worried about her gagging. This perfect demon of a woman had been put on the planet with the sole purpose of torturing him and didn't have a fucking gag reflex . He was fucked.

It was like every inch of his body was being shocked by electricity as she pulled back, dragging her tongue along his cock, then taking him to the back of her throat. Again. Over and over. She ran one finger over his balls and Liam danced too close to his limit. He sat up, lightly grabbing her chin and halting her.

"No more. I can't," he said, and God, he sounded fucking defeated. Jasmine pouted, but sat back on her knees, licking a drop of his pre-cum from her lips. White noise filled Liam's ears, and he couldn't even fault Jasmine's satisfied smirk. She knew exactly what she was doing to him.