Chase
I’ve been staring at my laptop, long enough to order lunch, have it arrive, and have it turn cold. I should be kicking back with an air of satisfaction. I checked every app my client’s wife has on her phone, even bypassing the secondary authentication code for the vault. This is where I’d likely find any dirty secrets she has to hide.
Instead, most of the afternoon has dragged on, and what do I have to show for myself? Not a damn thing. I lean back in the office chair and blow out a breath. This weekend was supposed to be about getting Jasmine Rocha out of my mind, out of my system. But at this point I’m leaning more toward being ensnared by her.
Even as she stood there, eating the ripe strawberry someone sliced in half, my imagination was wandering off with her. Jasmine was in bed. The strawberries were spread around her neck like a piece of luscious red jewelry. I’m leaning in, eating the pieces directly off her skin then licking the juice.
The second I realized how much time I was spending on the fantasy I knew I’d have to create some space between us. Otherwise, I was going to toss her over the table and add another course to the meal. The problem was I could only see myself pulling her along to bed after that, or maybe the couch, or the couch then the bed. Either way, while I paid for the fuck fest, after tonight, this is over. I don’t want to give her the wrong idea about tomorrow. The last thing I want is to hurt her.
Distance could have been as easy as arranging something to keep busy today. Unfortunately, my cock took over my brain, and every possibility turned into a new position to teach Jasmine. Damn it. Why didn’t I just ask Nina to get us tickets to something. Why didn’t I think to have her get a damn bathing suit for Jasmine? Mmm, Jasmine in a bikini. A smile spreads across my lips. I’d say a thong, but then I’d end up with the world’s longest lasting boner.
I go back to the screen, my index finger hovering over the Enter key. Instead, I hit Alt and Tab to switch to a new tab and go to a link I’ve used sparingly. With Jasmine’s arguments ringing in my ears, I log into her computer.
Seconds pass, and the screen remains the same. As I should have guessed, she’s working on something for school. My leg is bouncing like it has a mind of its own. I stop, setting my foot on the floor. With nothing happening, I switch back to the job I should be doing, the one I decided I had to do today, instead of fucking my…instead of fucking Jasmine. Stop. I have no plan for anything personal, with anyone.
Yet I toggle back to view her screen. Nothing’s changed. Is she still reading? Writing on paper? It sure as hell isn’t on a phone. As stupid as it seems, she doesn’t have a phone. Since I don’t see much of a social life from her, she may not need one. Still, it would be so much easier… I blow out a breath. I don’t need to keep tabs on Jasmine Rocha.
So, I’ll sit here and finish the job three days early instead of wondering what Jasmine is doing.
15
Chase
It’s ten minutes to eight when she comes to the door. Again, being the perfect little coed. I don’t bother to look through the peephole and just pull open the door. Turns out I should have prepared myself.
She’s decked out in a dress that starts in a shade of burgundy and ends closer to black. What’s most concerning is the plunging neckline that showcases her cleavage. Which means it’ll be another night of being pissed at every asshole who’s around us. Watching her. Wanting her. Imagining her under him.
How did I end up falling into the trap? I specifically set this up as a cash transaction, so it would be a clean break. No hurt feelings. No regrets.
She steps in, smiling, unaware of the turmoil inside me. “I hope this is okay,” she says with a hint of nervousness. “I feel like it’s a little much.” She lays her hand on her breasts, at the exact spot calling my attention. As I stare, I swear her nipples are puckering under the material. It would be so easy to pull that strap aside and take what I want.
Instead, I force myself not to touch her.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I say with as much indifference as I can muster. “You ready to get going?” I purposely drag my gaze away from her chest.
“Yes, of course.” She lowers her hand.
Ushering her out, I close the door and step forward checking my watch in order to avoid offering an arm. She keeps in step with me. We catch the elevator as a guy comes out and push the button for the top floor. I set my phone in front of the scanner. The light turns green and the elevator starts the short trek to the get together.
“I’m doing better in these.” She glances down at her shoes. “I spent all day walking back and forth in them, so I’d be comfortable walking.”
Which answers the question of where she’d been. The phone Nina provided has location sharing, but Jasmine could have left the building without it. History proves she wouldn’t be the first to try and slip out undetected. A lesson I had to learn myself.
The doors open to a single door. The guy that’s been at Nina’s heels stands at the door.
“Hi,” Jasmine says, as if she’s familiar with him, making me wonder how they know each other.
“Good evening.” He gives her a single nod and holds the door open for us to go through.
Inside, a hand full of people are chatting as the waitstaff offers drinks and hors d’oeuvre. Everyone turns, and the focus goes to Jasmine. Great, just what I need. I have the urge to pull her to me, to kiss and have my scent on her so everyone knows she’s mine.
This jealousy has no fucking part in what’s happening between us.
Nina comes to greet us. “I’m glad you made it to our casino night.” She grasps Jasmine’s hand. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
It isn’t a question—she’s expecting confirmation, or a feel-good moment for Jasmine. “You did a great job,” I reply, not giving her quite what she wants.
She pretends not to notice, likely for Jasmine’s sake, but I can see the steel in her eyes. “We have a high-stakes room to the right, if anyone’s up to it. She hands us each a blank card with a magnetic strip on the back. “These can keep track of your winnings. We’ll take care of everything in the background.”
Jasmine gives me a concerned look. “I, ah…” She shakes her head.
This is perfect. I lean in. “I’m sure Nina can show you around.” I glance in her direction, practically daring her to say no.
“Of course,” she supplies with a genuine smile. I know enough to expect a huge bill to make up for the perceived slight. They head left, and I walk in to join a game of poker.
It’s hours later, and I can’t bring myself to go back to the room. Though there’s a sensual promise to doing so, it also means Jasmin will be closer to leaving.
The dealer picks up the cards and announces a quick break. Just as well. My dark mood is drowning out my luck. I’ve lost more money than I care to add up.
The guy next to me gets up, leaving a space open between me and his neighbor. “Saw you walk in earlier,” he says, the tip of his thumb gliding over the edge of the table. “Man, you got the win, if you don’t mind me saying so.”