Chapter Seventeen

I don't think I have ever seensomeone who screams "trust fund knobhead" as much as the man Gen is standing with. One second she was with me, we were flirting and having fun, and the next, she was rushing to that arsehole.

Since I have no idea what the fuck is happening, I stay in the background and eat the stuff on the plate I made for her. Why does he have his hand around her waist like that, and why isn't she whacking it away as she would for me?

I'm taken out of my thoughts when her friend appears next to me. Her eyes are on them too, on Gen and the twat, talking to an old couple.

When I extend the plate before her, she picks up something and eats it.

"Who is he?" I ask.

"Her ex." The animosity she puts in those two short words lets me know exactly what she thinks of the golden douchebag.

"The one who told her she sucked in bed?"

Gen's friend turns to me with wide eyes, surprised. "She told you about that?"

"Yeah. She was so upset that I could have punched him in the face."

When she speaks again, she's hesitant. "And is she?"

"Is she what?"

"Bad in bed."

"Fuck no. I've actually never had this much fun in my life."

"Okay, good. I suspected it wasn't true, but Edward put this idea in her head, and she became convinced he was right."

"No, your friend is fucking dynamite in the sack. I told her he was a twat for saying that. And I didn't even know he looked the part."

The brunette giggles. "He does, doesn't he?"

"Look at his shoes. Who the fuck under fifty wears those?"

"A trust fund baby."

Then and there, I know I like this woman. "What's your name, love?" I ask her.

"Hana. And you're Jake, right?"

"Yeah, Jacob."

We shake hands and then return to our silent observation. The dickhead says something supposedly funny, and the old couple chuckles. Gen does too, but it's delayed, forced. She's uncomfortable, and it's obvious even from where I stand.

I don't get it. She deserves so much better than a prick who can't even appreciate her splendor. The idiot was never invested enough to uncover the sensuality within her, judging her as boring rather than questioning himself. And he had five years to do it.

I unlocked it in under an hour.

But what bothers me the most is that he's nothing like me. We couldn't be more different physically, and it's clear that we're nothing alike where lifestyle is concerned. He's what Gen picked, what she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. A proper little posh like her, who comes from money and went to an Ivy League school. But me… I'm an anomaly, someone she stumbled upon because she was looking for a Jacob's ladder.

I couldn't be further from her type.

"What are we staring at?" Eli looks in their direction, having just joined us. "Who's with Gen?"

"Her ex," Hana and I answer in unison.

"Oh, shit." Eli thinks about it for a moment, then carefully goes on to say, "And how are we feeling about it?"

"Not great," I answer.

"I have it on good authority that Eddie never made her orgasm as hard as you do," Hana says with a shrug, taking a sip of champagne and picking a mini club sandwich from the plate.

It helps a little. "Here, hold this," I order Eli, shoving the plate into his hands.

"Oh, wait," Gen's friend stops me. "I'm supposed to tell you to keep your distance. But you're old enough to make your own decisions."

I definitely like her.

As I leave them behind, Eli says, "That's gonna be interesting."

"I wish I had popcorn," Hana replies.

On my way toward the couple, I adjust the collar of my red shirt and tug on my jacket to straighten it. She doesn't want what we're doing in the darkest hours of the night to be exposed, and I respect that. But I'm not about to watch her spend the evening with her ex and do nothing about it.

She still isn't aware of me when I reach them, and I hear the ongoing conversation. "Vivienne told me you two had split," the old woman says. "Are you getting back together, then?"

The ex rests a hand on the small of Gen's back, and I fight the urge to tear it away. "You know how volatile love can be… We're just figuring things out at the moment," he says.

"Excuse me, miss?" I call, gently tapping Gen's shoulder. She tenses, and I see the hairs on her arm rise. Everyone turns to me, so I put on my best poker face. Which isn't easy when the beautiful redhead glares at me, warning me not to mess this up for her. "Sorry for interrupting you, but I have the uncanny feeling we've met before. Are you, by any chance, a friend of Hana?"

"I am," she hesitantly replies.

"Then that's it. We probably met at her…" Fuck, I should have planned this better.

"Engagement party?" Gen finishes for me.

"That's it, yeah."

"Right."

This is such a fucked up situation. Twenty-four hours ago, we were getting started with our not-a-sexathon sexathon, and now we can't even be acquaintances. For fuck's sake, I licked this woman's clit, fingered her arse, choked her… And she really expects me to sit back while she enjoys a pleasant evening with her ex?

"I was there, and I don't recall seeing you," her ex interjects. Stay out of this, prick.

"I don't remember you either, which makes sense. But come on, mate. A six-foot-two handsome devil with tattoos? I'm hard to forget."

"Sorry, but I don't recall meeting you either," Gen adds. I won't lie, that one stings.

That's when the old couple decides to leave, probably sensing that the situation is slowly getting out of control.

"Well, I remember you very well because I'm into redheads," I say in return.

My words get her ex to show some spine, finally. He wraps a hand around her waist to pull her closer, and I see just how uncomfortable that makes her.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" he asks.

"We already established that I'm a friend of Hana's and her fiancé."

"Your name?"

"So you really forgot about me, mate? I'm Jake. And you are?"

"Edward Hoffman the Third."

"The Third?" I whistle, feigning being impressed. "So, there are two more like you out there?" A catastrophe, really.

The imbecile squares his shoulders, which makes him look ridiculous because I'm five inches taller and probably outweigh him by fifty pounds of muscle mass.

Before he can dig himself into a deeper hole, Gen comes to his aid. "What do you want, sir?"

"Nothing, love. I was just wondering if you were taken. Is that your boyfriend?" I point at the dickhead, who tugs her even closer.

"That is none of your concern," Gen says, her tone icy.

The fire behind the blue of her eyes makes me question if this little pissing contest of mine is worth angering her. Maybe I went a little too far. Time to retreat. "Sorry, you two are busy. I'll leave you be."

Before she can react, I take her hand and gallantly bend to press a kiss on the back of it. I witness the duality of her reaction as her pupils dilate at the discreet touch of my tongue, but her scowl clearly disapproves of my methods. My fingers graze the softness of her palm before I release her, and I give Edward a rough pat on the shoulder. "See you around, mate."

"Let's hope not," Gen mutters.

"Oh, I think you will," I counter. I give her a wink, and then I'm off.

As much as I try to keep a contained facade, I'm seething. Why would she even bother giving him the time of day? He's a joke turned loafer-wearing bratty little shit. Edward Hoffman the fucking Third. What a clown.

When I return to Elijah and Hana, they seem riveted. "How did that go?"

"Not well. I think she's pissed."

"Oh, she is," Hana confirms. "But so is Edward, so I see it as a win."

"You're not a very good friend, are you?" Eli pensively asks.

"I've been telling her for years that she can do better than Eddie. Honestly, she deserved the reminder."

"I think I'll go home," I decide.

"Really? We just arrived," Eli protests.

When I look back at Gen and her ex, he still has an arm around her, and they are now talking to another couple. This is bullshit. "You can stay and take a cab home—don't forget your helmet. I just don't think I can witness this for much longer."

"Alright, I get it."

"I'll take a leak first, then I'm off. Hana, it was a pleasure meeting you. Keep fighting the good death-to-Eddie fight, love."

She laughs, shaking her head with amusement. "I'll die on that hill."

I give them a nod and head toward the back of the gallery, where I spotted the restrooms earlier. You know the place is fancy when each booth is a proper build, rather than shitty stalls.

Once I'm done pissing, I wash my hands and give myself a little pep talk in the mirror, remembering that I'm better than that prick, even though I'm not the third of some empire.

When I open the door, ready to leave this place entirely, a fury of red hair, green satin, and creamy freckled skin shoves me back inside. She locks the door and then meets my eyes with rage plastered all over her pretty face.

"What the hell was that!" Gen explodes, barely managing to contain her voice. She is ridiculously hot when angry, but I do my best to dismiss it and handle this seriously.

"What?"

"This is my life, Jacob! My real life. You can't sabotage it because you feel offended."

"I was appalled, not offended."

"What did you think you would accomplish with that caveman display of ownership?"

"Nothing, really. I was just curious to meet the man who spent five years with you and never even learned to fuck you properly. And now that I have, I can confirm that I don't fucking get it, Genevieve."

"Get what?"

"Why are you wasting your time with that cunt?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why would you even entertain the possibility of him?"

"I—Eddie is a friend, Jake. We dated for five years, and I've known him for even longer than that. He knows me more than anybody else, and there will always be something between us."

"He didn't know you, or he wouldn't have left you. He's a fucking loser."

That one might be a low blow, but she needs to hear it. Those five years she spent with him mean nothing if he couldn't love her enough to fight for her.

"So what?" she snarls. "You think you know me better than he does?"

"Honestly? I think you don't even know yourself, Genevieve. You have this idea of who you want to be, this proper little Upper East Side lawyer, but then you come to me to feel alive. I'm the opposite of what you want, red, yet it looks like I'm what you need."

That one hits her like a slap. She never noticed her duality, did she? There are two sides to her. The one that demands that I stay away so we won't be discovered, and the one that can't help but flirt back. The one that drafts an exhaustive sex contract and the one that begs me to choke her in the dark back room of a shady bar. It's like there's the person she should be and the person who craves to get out of the rigid frame she built for herself.

"We're just having sex, Jake. You're helping me with my list, and then I'll be with whoever I want."

Now, it's my turn to endure the blow. Shit, we're as good at hurting as we are at pleasuring.

"I know that, and I'm fine with it. I don't need anything more. But please, not him. He doesn't deserve you."

"You don't know him, Jake."

"I know enough."

She rolls her eyes, unconvinced. "He's a good man. He respects me, and our energies match perfectly. Also, you can think whatever you want of Edward, but at least he told me I look beautiful tonight."

Now she's making stupid excuses for him, which pisses me off. I move closer to her, and it has her backing away until she's pressed against the slick marble wall by the sink.

"Is that it? Is the bar so fucking low that that's enough? You want me to call you pretty? To tell you that dress was made for you? That this color exists solely to compliment your skin? Or would you maybe prefer the crude truth?"

She blinks several times, struggling to process the ardent words I can't stop from pouring out.

"The truth, red, is that you look so fucking stunning that I've been sporting a semi since I noticed you. But then, you're always so fuckable it's ridiculous. I don't care if my cock needs to rest and your pussy can't take more of me—I would've pinned you down and fucked you if there weren't a hundred witnesses around us."

Nothing comes when she tries to speak, so she licks her lips, her pink tongue dragging over their plumpness, and tries again.

"You really think I'm stunning?"

How can she even doubt it? Because I don't know how else to make her believe me, I grab her hand that's clutching the marble counter by her hip and bring it between us, flattening it over my hardened cock.

"What do you think?" I ask.

She bats her lashes, contending with desires and needs that can't be contained. When she makes a small move forward, as if to kiss me, I fucking lose it.

My mouth is on hers before she can see it coming, but she quickly reacts, wrapping her arms around my neck and bringing me closer. Our tongues meet, our embrace is brutally passionate, and everything outside this room becomes irrelevant. Fuck her ex, fuck whoever she ends up with when we're done with her list. She's mine for now, and I'll make sure she doesn't forget it.

I eagerly pull up her dress—the same fucking dress she wore in those screenshots Eli sent me—with impatient hands, swallowing her sighs.

"Jake, wait. We already—we already did sex in a public place."

"And we're doing it again."

The next protest dies when I press a hand over the space between her legs, and I feel just how wet she is. Did the arguing work on her, too? What does that say about us?

"Who are you dripping for, red?" I groan, pressing harder on her pussy. "Me or him?"

She doesn't even hesitate before saying, "You. This is all for you."

Fucking right it is.

With my thumbs shoved into the sides, I tug her underwear down, making it slip to her ankles. When I kneel, she lifts a foot so I can pass it and then the other. Once the pearl-white lace is off, I ball it and slip it into my pocket.

As much as I want to fuck her right now, I won't indulge. Some part of me worries that if I do, it will make for an acceptable parting quickie. And I'm not ready to part yet. So, I might as well leave her wanting more.

Still kneeling, I bunch her dress at her waist and press my mouth onto her awaiting cunt.

"Aah—Jake!" she moans, weaving her fingers into my hair.

Her hips buck, pressing herself harder into me, offering me a better angle to work with. I reach behind her thigh to set her leg on my shoulder, and she allows me, releasing the sweetest whimpers and sighs. My tongue rasps against her clit with precision while I handle her other leg, and soon, she's hoisted on me, her thighs on either side of my head as I eat her out.

The small nub of her clit is slick and warm against my tongue, and when I pause my movements, I can feel it pulse. But she never lets me stop for too long, letting out a trembling protest and tightening her grip on my hair. When I suck on her hard, she lets out a small cry, her thighs clamping on my skull. But I also feel how that makes her tremble all over, so I reach around her legs, grab onto her knees, and pry her open.

I'm already looking up when she glimpses down, her ocean eyes veiled with pleasure and lust, her face already flushed. With our gazes locked together, I give her a series of fast, coordinated licks right where she fucking needs me.

"Oh, God—" she moans, arching against the wall. "Oh God, yes!"

"Stop calling out His name," I say, pulling away enough for my words to make sense. "Unless you want God to pay attention to us right now."

Her jaw snaps closed, her eyes going wide. That's what I thought.

I return to my ministrations, reveling in her moans, taste, and scent. She's like a heavenly delicacy, a nectar that was never meant for us mortals. And yet, here I am, feasting on her like she's my own slice of heaven.

Because I want her to have only me in her mind for the next few hours, I release one of her knees, keeping her open on the other side, and align three fingers with her entrance. Before she can see it coming, I slip them inside her, stretching her tightness around my thick knuckles. She's so wet though, that they enter her with no resistance, her greedy little cunt swallowing them entirely.

"Aah! Yes!" She writhes like a possessed woman, and I don't need more than this to start fucking her with my hand while my tongue keeps taking care of her clit. This only lasts a few seconds before I sense the first spasms of her walls, squeezing my fingers together.

"Jake—" she softly cries out. "Jake, I'm gonna come."

"Good. Come for me, red. Come all over my fingers and tongue."

The pace of my hand increases, and so does the one of my tongue. Then it happens—the explosion, the peak. Her insides clench so hard that I can barely keep up with my thrusts, and her hips jolt and arch, her body tense under the ravaging orgasm I just gave her. And I keep going, bringing her more pleasure until it finally recedes.

When the tight fists holding my hair loosen and her entire body has turned lax, I pull my fingers out of her. Then, making sure she's stable enough, I let down her legs one after the other. She leans heavily on the wall behind her, completely dazed by the intensity of her climax.

With the sleeve of my jacket, I wipe my lower face. As soon as I'm upright, she pulls me into her and kisses me. We share her taste for a moment, and when she reaches for the belt at my hips, I stop her with a firm hand.

"No, not tonight."

"What? Why?"

I take a few steps away from her, closer to the door. "It's better that way."

"What is?"

I'm not even sure, so I don't answer. Instead, I let my earlier rancor take over again. "When you're out there, spending the evening with your ex, remember who's the reason for that tingling sensation between your legs."

She looks properly appalled, her jaw dropping with indignation. "Are you serious right now? Is that what this was about?"

"I don't know what it was about, Gen. But don't act like you didn't enjoy it." When I put my hand over the knob and unlock the door, she protests again.

"Wait, Jake!" she calls. But it isn't to hold me back this time. "My underwear."

I shove my hand in my pocket, grazing at the humid lace. "Number thirteen," I say.

Drive your partner crazy by giving them a special present during an outing.

"I'm only here to help with that list after all, am I not?" I remind her. "I'll see you on Tuesday, Gen." She still hasn't answered by the time I exit the restroom.

As I walk back to the gallery, I can still sense her everywhere. In my ears, my mouth, my nose… Even on my hand, my fingers are still wet with the remnants of her climax.

When I spot her fucking ex, irrational jealousy strikes me again. What I do next, I blame on the insanity caused by blue balls.

"Edward, mate," I call out when I approach him. With my left hand on his shoulder, I offer the right one to shake his. Because he's with people, he doesn't leave me hanging and returns the gesture. I squeeze it harder than I need to, doing the same to his shoulder. "It was great seeing you again," I continue. "Take care, yeah?"

He nods, wholly disoriented by my friendliness, and I let go of him. The clueless cunt will probably think I had clammy hands, never realizing that this, the moistness I left on him, it's his fucking ex-girlfriend—the woman he'll spend the evening with—coming all over my hand minutes prior.

And he's such a daft prick that he probably won't even recognize the smell despite spending five fucking years with its origin. He didn't deserve her, and I hope she'll see that.

I don't look for Eli or Hana because I'm not lingering here for another minute. Instead, I ask for my helmet from the woman in charge of coats and shit. I walk out into the night as soon as I have it.

Five times. I've seen this woman five times, and she's already fucked me up more than anyone ever has. Keeping up with this, seeing her again and again, might not be the smartest thing to do.

The problem is that I'm not sure I can stop.