Chapter Twelve

Bookkeeping isn't offering any distraction. My mind would rather drift to anything but the numbers displayed before my eyes. With a deep sigh, I move away from my laptop, leaning back into the chair.

My gaze falls on Mulligrubs, peacefully sleeping on her cushioned bed in the corner. Oh, to be a lazy Rottweiler without care in the world for anything other than scratches and food. As if she knows I'm silently judging her, she lets out a huff in her sleep before licking her drooly chops.

Yes, I'd like to be as unbothered by things as she is. But my brain is scattered, my focus entirely gone. Five days. I haven't shagged anyone in five days. And not because I am overwhelmed with work like when this usually happens. No, it's all because I have a certain redhead stuck in my brain, and I can't imagine banging anyone else. But I should go to The Devil's Court tonight, pick up a consenting woman, and bring her home to take the edge off.

That's not working, though. Every evening since I met Gen there, I've tried to get her scent out of my nose, her moans out of my ears, and her taste out of my mouth by fucking other women. I even went as far as to bring a pretty brunette to the baby room, but as soon as we entered it, my desire for the chick faded away. Even when she kneeled to suck me off. And despite her enthusiastic efforts, I barely got half hard before pulling her onto her feet, away from my limp dick. The brunette's shrill noises as I finger fucked her to make up for it were dull compared to the sweet, desperate, and raspy moans Gen lets out when I make her come.

My eyes land on the hair stick in the pen cup. It's a souvenir I accidentally brought back from our first night. The small accessory has been sitting there ever since, a taunting reminder of the sexy redhead.

I'm not usually this single-minded, especially not when it comes to women, but fuck, I can't get the proper little Miss Kensington out of my head. And what drives me even crazier is, why her? I get it to some extent, but it still shouldn't be happening.

Instead of being respectful and chivalrous, I should have made her stay the night. She wanted to go to my place as much as she wanted to set some boundaries and leave. Winning her over would have required barely any effort. But how I felt at that moment worried me a little. After I nut, I usually want to distance myself from whoever I was fucking, not spend more time with them.

At least this time, I know I'll see her again. That list of hers is my insurance. We have fifty items to go through together, minus a handful. I'll have to be careful, because doing them six at a time would be a waste.

With a frustrated grunt, I return my attention to the bookkeeping software on my screen. What am I doing? Oh, right. The quarterly report.

I'm barely getting back into it when my phone buzzes on the desk. I jump on it like an idiotic teenager, only to see it's Killian in the group chat.

Kill

The whisky lads are coming on Friday at six.

Eli replies before I can.

Eli

In the morning?

Kill

In the evening, eejit.

Eli

Ok, no need to be a dickhead about it.

Kill

No need to be as thick as shite.

Kill isn't a morning person, and noon hasn't passed yet. Since those two love to bicker like an old couple, I exit the conversation and mute it for an hour. I'll let them kiss and make up in private.

Before I know what I'm doing, my thumb leads me to the few messages I exchanged with Gen. They date back three weeks now, and I still remember the detached curiosity I felt while I sent those texts. She was nothing more than an afterthought, someone I planned on meeting just to prove to Eli that when a woman doesn't put her face in those apps, it means she has nothing worth showing. I was bloody wrong, wasn't I?

I'm a fool for thinking I'd be alright fucking her whenever she has some time she can grace me with. I'm in my prime, and I've always had a solid sex drive. I'll need more than a quickie every fortnight.

On impulse, I send her a text.

Me

Any plans tonight?

Well, that sounds desperate. I don't want to come off as desperate. But I kind of am. I can't seem to fuck anyone else right now, and wanking is already getting old—even if the fantasies I conjure of her are delightfully naughty. Those screenshots from her dating profile are proving handy, but they're nothing like the real thing. I'll need to dip my cock in some pussy before I go mad.

Because I'm not pathetic enough to stare at my phone until she answers, I return my focus to the bloody numbers I've been staring at all morning. I should be elated about our record revenue this quarter, but it's become the norm. We do better every time, on a solid climb since The Parlour opened five years ago. This time is quite the jump, though.

When the phone buzzes again about ten minutes after I sent the text, I force myself not to check it immediately. This woman does things to me that I'm not comfortable with. Instead, I finish going through the page I'm on and use the text as motivation.

It's not exactly rewarding, though.

Sexy Redhead

I have a work dinner.

Me

Can't get out of it?

Sexy Redhead

Afraid not.

Me

Not even for great dick?

There's a pause there, where I imagine her squirming on her chair, thinking of all the things she could be doing with me tonight rather than sit with her boring colleagues or whatever.

Sexy Redhead

It would have to be the greatest dick of my life.

That needy little woman… Is she issuing a challenge we both know I've already won?

Me

I already am, am I not?

Sexy Redhead

Now you're getting cocky again.

Me

Cockiness is a big part of me. You've seen the size. You've had it in you.

Another pause, and I smile at the screen like an idiot, waiting for her answer.

Sexy Redhead

I really can't tonight. It's my boss and a few colleagues who are all gunning to take over when he leaves.

Me

You too, I reckon?

Sexy Redhead

Yeah. I haven't gone through two years of misogynistic jokes just to let the position slip away from me months before his retirement.

Me

Ah, so he's a twat. Well, if you need any cheering up, let me know.

Sexy Redhead

I'll probably have to work afterward to compensate for the lost time. Thanks for the offer, though.

Why do I feel used? Actually, do I feel used, or am I disappointed that she isn't as eager to meet again as I am? I think it's both. And frustrated too, because I'm usually the one in control—or I have some control, at the very least. But in this situation, she holds all the cards. All I can do is wait for whenever she wants me to help with something from her list, ready and willing.

And I don't even know what those things are, which adds to my feeling of powerlessness.

Me

Would you mind sending me your list so I can mentally prepare for what's to come?

Sexy Redhead

Sure. I'll type it out and send it to you whenever I have time. See you around, Jake.

I officially feel used and discarded. For the first time since my teenage years, I question my sexual abilities. With a frustrated groan, I drop the phone on the desk and lean into my chair. Genevieve fucking Kensington.

The chemistry between us is undeniable, raw, electric… But as soon as there's some distance, she acts uninterested. I'm not used to this. Women always come back for more. They often beg for it even, and I have to set boundaries to ensure they don't start getting ideas.

This time, I'm the one about to beg, and I fucking hate it.

The door to the office opens without a knock first, and Eli takes a step in. "Did you mute us again?" he asks. Mulli springs up as soon as she recognizes the voice and stumbles out of her bed to welcome him.

"Yes, you two need space for your little foreplay," I reply while he bends down to enthusiastically pet my dog.

"Ha-ha. Kill wants us to be there on Friday so we can help pick the best bottles. I think he just wants to spend some quality time with us. He's been working like a maniac for weeks."

"The ransom of glory, I reckon. I'm up for drinks, yeah."

"When are you not?" he says with a chuckle. When I don't respond to his fit of humor, his eyebrows twist and come together. "What's up with you? You've been moody."

"Just the bloody quarterly reports."

He examines me for several seconds and then shakes his head. "Nah, it usually doesn't frustrate you this much. Is it because of a certain red-haired beauty?"

My first instinct is to deny, but I can sense the way my jaw ticks, betraying my thoughts before I can fabricate a lie. Eli doesn't miss it, a smile splitting his face in two as he comes in and closes the door behind him, Mulli bouncing for more of his attention.

"Okay, tell Uncle Elijah everything. What did the little redhead riding your hood do to you?"

"You know I'm circumcised."

"And I'm paraphrasing. Don't try to change the subject. What's going on?" He comes to sit on the sofa opposite me and looks at me over the desk. The Rottie comes between his knees, still in the mood for more head scratches.

"What is this? Therapy? I'm not telling you shit, Eli."

"Don't be shy, now. We're above this toxic masculinity crap—we communicate our feelings in this house."

"I've seen her three times, mate. There are no feelings to communicate." Eli raises a doubtful eyebrow, not fooled by my attempt to get him off my back. "She isn't on my mind, Elijah. Let it go."

"I mean… she should be. I've seen the pictures. She's one sexy—" Whatever look I give him makes him stop the joke he's about to utter. His following smirk tells me it was a trap, and I fell headfirst into it. "There you go. I knew it was about her. So, what? She's special?"

Knowing he won't let it go until I give him something, I sigh and stare at the phone. "I don't know. I thought I knew women. But this one… I can't figure her out."

"Of course you can't. You never fuck around with sophisticated career-driven women."

Maybe that's it. She's just a new flavor in a world where I already know them all. Once I get my fill of her, she'll become like any other woman—a taste I know all too well that blends with the rest. Then, I'll be able to move on, and things will return to normal.

"Will you see her again?" Eli asks.

"We have an arrangement."

"What kind?"

"I'm not sure exactly how it'll work, but we'll keep fucking."

There's a moment where he doesn't ask anything more, studying me with interest instead. I've known him and Killian for thirteen years now, and we all know one another too well for our own good.

"Not gonna lie," Eli starts, not masking how entertaining he finds my predicament, "it's fun to see you like this. When I found Jessica, I knew she would drive you mad, but I didn't think it would be that way. This is much better."

Fucker.

"Her name's Genevieve—Gen," I finally correct him. Since I'll supposedly see more of her in the future, I might as well set this right.

"Ah! I knew she wasn't a Jessica. She's not a Genevieve either though," he adds pensively.

"I think she's old money, so it suits her."

"Hmm. I feel like she should be an Ariel, or a Lola, or a Roxane."

"I truly fear the day you'll have to name a newborn. Now, get the fuck out so I can finish these fucking reports."

"I think I'll hang out here with you two. My office is boring."

"Don't you have work to do?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Got everything I need right here," he replies, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Wanker."

"I prefer marketeer extraordinaire, thank you very much."

I shake my head with a smile, watching as he focuses on his phone to work his magic. The dynamics of our little trio turned fraternal a while ago. Elijah and Killian might as well be blood to me, and we give each other shit like any brothers would. Eli is a genius at what he does, and we have him to thank for the popularity of The Devil's Court and The Parlour. But since a lot of his work happens sprawled on a couch while he's on his phone, the joke that he's a lazy twat sticks around.

Eventually, I manage to return to my accounting problems, and Eli being there somewhat helps. Even though we don't speak, I'm aware of his presence, and it's as though my brain refuses to think of Gen with him in the room.

This goes on for maybe half an hour until my phone vibrates. I'm too eager when I check it, so Elijah sits up to look at me. "Is that her?"

It is. She sent me her list. "Mind your own shit," I tell my friend, impatiently reading the first items. He lies back on the couch with a mumble.

Reading this is a terrible idea because I'm rock-hard under my desk before I even reach the twentieth line. With every item I read, images of Gen and I flash into my mind. I envision myself doing these things to her, seeing the potential in each and every entry. I'm feeling hot, my dick aching by the time I read it all. Fucking hell.

When my boner recedes just enough to leave some blood for my brain, I text her back.

Me

I only see 39 things.

Sexy Redhead

I removed the ones we already did and the ones I don't feel comfortable doing.

Me

Like what?

Her next answer takes a moment to arrive as if she's debating whether she should be candid. Probably not. I want to do it all with her, so I might try—and manage—to sway her mind. Not in a pushy way, but encouragingly. Sex is fucking amazing, and she deserves to experience all its aspects.

Sexy Redhead

I'm still debating everything anal. A threesome is also not my style. And I'm not ever doing a sex tape. Also, nipple clamps sound scary.

Well, that's alright. The sex tape thing makes sense because we're not comfortable or familiar enough with each other to do it. As for the clamps, my fingers will do just fine. The threesome is trickier. I've done that in the past, with two women or sharing one with Elijah or Kill. I understand, however, that it can be a scary step, and I respect that it might not be her thing. Also, it's her exploration, and I'm not particularly into sharing—I merely do it when the occasion calls for it.

It's good that she's debating the anal part because it's an entire side of sex that she'd be dismissing. From rimming to having an anal orgasm, she'd be missing a lot of pleasurable fun.

Me

We'll do anything you're comfortable with, red. And if you come up with more stuff, I'm at your disposal for that too.

Sexy Redhead

What a gentleman.

Me

I aim to serve, love. Now, I don't know about you, but I reckon this is an excellent time for number 23.

Sexy Redhead

I'm not sending you a nude.

Me

What am I supposed to do with my stiffy, then? How do I get rid of it?

Sexy Redhead

You really need me to spell it out for you?

Me

What I need is new material. I've been wanking to your dating app pics so much, I think I could place every freckle you have on your arse with perfect accuracy.

"You do realize that you have the stupidest grin on your face, right?" Eli asks from the couch.

"Fuck off."

"No, this is too good. I've never seen you like this."

I flip him the bird, my eyes glued to the screen as I wait for Gen's response. It takes forever to come, and I wonder if she'll leave me on read.

Sexy Redhead

If this gets passed around in any way, I will sue you for everything you own.

I'm trying to figure out what she means by that when a pic comes in. Her face isn't in the frame, and she's seated on a big leather desk chair, the camera looking down at her. The blazer of her business suit is opened, and so is the white shirt underneath it. She's pushed it to the side, along with the cup of her lacey black bra, exposing a rosy nipple, all taut and pebbled.

It's far from being the most scandalous nude I've ever received, but I don't remember a single one making my cock jolt the way this one does.

Fuck.

"Now your face is getting red," Eli points out. "Did she just—"

"Get out. I'm not joking, Elijah. Get the fuck out."

He doesn't take my harshness poorly, chuckling low as he stands from the couch. "I'm taking Mulls because she deserves better than your bad energy. Come, Grubsy. Come!" Mulli jumps out of her bed like a traitor and excitedly goes to him.

"Do you want me to put a sock on the handle for you?" Eli asks, half outside. I glare at him, ripping my eyes from the picture for barely a second. That only makes him laugh more. "You need to get laid, bro. Celibacy isn't good for you."

"Five days isn't celibacy."

"It is for you. Anyhow, enjoy your alone time," he says with a wink, closing the door behind them.

As soon as I'm alone, I tug at my cock through my pants, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort. This woman drives me insane.

Me

Fuck, Gen.

Sexy Redhead

What?

Me

I didn't think you'd do it.

Sexy Redhead

I surprised myself. But one more down, 38 to go.

Damn, those items are going down like lead balloons. If I'm not careful, she'll be out of things to need me for by the end of the month. Thank fuck I negotiated the baby room was only three.

I need to make this last because when it's over, the freckled beauty will move on. And then what? I'm left with a dick that only rises for her and a mind that refuses to focus?

Can't afford that.

Whatever has got her racing through that list, whatever motivation drives her, I'll have to navigate around it. I need to get my fill of the proper little Miss Kensington, and when I'm bored with the novelty of her, everything will return to normal, and I'll get my perfect life back.

That sounds like a solid plan. One I'll undoubtedly enjoy enacting.