On His Knees by Tabatha Kiss
Chapter 24
Seth
That was awful.
Her soft skin against my palm. The fresh scent of her hair in my nostrils. Her tempting lips mere inches away from mine.
Just awful.
I stare at my hard dick in the shower.
It was bad.
Disgusting.
Gross.
The absolute worst.
Nope. Still hard.
He’s not buying it.
Just as hard as he’s been all night long. Nothing I’ve told him has convinced him to stand down and I do not want to jerk off in my little sister’s house.
But at least I slept. For the second night in as many days, I slept like a baby and the only common factor was a somewhat pleasant interaction with her beforehand.
Wilder told me to do what makes me feel safe.
Apparently, that’s Jenna Abrams.
My cock twitches.
I groan.
Come on, man. I have to work today.
There’s only one thing left to do.
I spin the shower dial to cold.
Sorry, buddy.
After a few minutes of some well-deserved punishment, I hop out of the shower. I grab the towel I set out on the toilet seat; a bright, lavender one so elegantly soft I want to wrap up and die in it someday. Drew and I should definitely go shopping once he gets back from Europe. Our collection is seriously lacking in softness.
I tie it off around my waist before opening the door. The sound doubles as I step out. I halt mid-stride, Jenna’s figure suddenly emerging from her room next door with a large mesh bag full of dirty laundry.
She stops and sighs, hanging back as she waves her hand. “After you,” she says, her eyes firmly targeting the floor rather than my moist, exposed chest.
“No, you go,” I say.
“No, I insist.”
“Ladies first.”
With a quick roll of her eyes, she steps out and closes her door, her little ass wiggling in shorts as she dashes toward the kitchen with her laundry bag trailing behind her.
I scold myself for looking, but — goddamn — that rump looks juicier than a pair of tomatoes. And just as firm.
I forcefully turn away.
The fuck is wrong with me?
I need to get out of here.
I need to get this crap out of my system. I need to get her out of my system, and the only way I can do that is to thrust this energy into the first willing hole I find. That shouldn’t be too hard to do. I’m Seth Newbury. I’m Delta Xi. I piss confidence and bleed testosterone.
Let’s do this.
I kick my door closed behind me and grab my phone off the bedside table. A few quick swipes, and I’m scrolling through my list of contacts. There has got to be someone Chicago-based who’d be willing to take a ride on the Seth Express again.
I tap to a halt with a smile.
Bethany.
I call her. I bring the phone to my ear, clearing my throat and puffing out my chest as I count the rings.
“Hello?”
Voice of an angel.
“Hey, Bethany,” I say. “How are you?”
A long pause. “Seth?”
“Yeah.” I swallow, wetting my dry throat. “It’s me.”
“Oh, sorry. I got a new phone and lost all my contacts a while ago.”
“That’s okay, girl. What you up to tonight?”
Again, she pauses. “Seth.”
“Because I’ve got a ticket to ride with your name on it. You in town?”
“I’m married.”
My stomach twists. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” she says.
Bethany Beihn. Married.
“That’s... great.” I let my posture sag. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you.”
“And how long has that been going on?” I ask.
“About six months.”
“Wow. That... seems quick. Feels like only yesterday you and I were... involved.”
“Well, when you know you know, right?”
“Right.” I bristle at that nonsense. “Right, of course.”
“Seth, are you okay?” she asks.
“Hey, girl.” I scoff. “I’m fine. Totally cool. I just... had some fond memories of us, that’s all.”
“I do, too,” she says. “But...”
“Married.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’ll let you go. It was great catching up with you, though.”
“Same! We should have lunch the next time I’m in town.”
“Where are you now?”
“London.”
I choke. “London?!”
“My husband’s from here, yeah.”
“That’s... awesome.”
Awesome?
“Anyway,” I say. “I guess I’ll see you some other time.”
“Sounds good. Nice to hear from you, Seth.”
I laugh politely. “You, too.”
I hang up as I hear the front door open and close. With a hand holding the loose towel at the waist, I take a few quick steps toward the window to see outside.
Jenna hobbles toward her car in the driveway and tosses her sack of clothes into the backseat. Must be laundry day. I’d ask her to take some things for me, but... something tells me I’d never see those items ever again, so I’ll just let her go.
Let her go.
I know I’ve got to. Lusting after Jenna Abrams is the last thing I ever expected to do, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I can shut this down. And fast. Bethany Biehn isn’t the only girl in my little black book.
Speaking of...
I swipe through my apps to look for it. I haven’t used it in a while, but I should still have a profile.
Found it.
Little Black Book.
Sure, it’s actively stealing Drew and our dream bar out from under me, but dammit, it works. It’s the highest rated dating app in the world with good reason. Thousands of couples have found happily ever after with this thing thanks to Nora Payne’s amazing matchmaking algorithms. Guaranteed to find love or your money back. Satisfaction guaranteed.
Personally, I just need the satisfaction.
And there are always plenty of ladies in the Chicago area who feel the same way.
I open the app and start scrolling.