Pucker Up: (Kiss Talent Agency Series, Book Four) Read online

Page 2


  Sonya puts a perfectly manicured finger to her chin and actually ponders the question. “Is that from the Spring 2017 line?”

  Jenna

  * * *

  Whenever I remember my thirtieth birthday, I will remember one thing: pain.

  Pain from pinching my leg constantly. Pain from biting my tongue. Pain from my cheeks forcing smile after smile. And the greatest part?

  We’re only halfway through dinner.

  I wave over Tony, my life saver, for another glass of wine.

  “Having fun?” he whispers as he pours.

  “Tony, you’ve known me for how long?”

  “Three years, ma’am.”

  “So, do I look like I’m having fun?”

  Tony smiles and tips the bottle to add more wine to my glass. Bryce eyes me with a hint of judgment.

  “Tony’s hand slipped,” I say.

  “My hand slipped, sir,” Tony informs Bryce, before giving me a quick wink and returning to the kitchen. Best in the goddamn city.

  When Bryce told me Lee was going to bring a date, I almost skipped this birthday dinner. But then I convinced myself that no, there’s no possible way this could be worse than I imagined.

  I’d been so wrong.

  Even now, if I can think of some reason to escape without it being awkward, I will. I’m dying for work to call in with an immediate order to return to the office, no questions asked. But William would ruin that plan. He’d call my bluff since he works at the same office. Rookie mistake bringing a coworker I’ve only been on two dates with. Rookie mistake.

  I brought him because once I knew Lee was bringing a date, I had to bring someone. And he’s easy on the eyes. Tall, handsome, sharp dresser. He’s so smart, too. If I felt anything toward him or if he held my attention with the boring story he’s telling right now, I wouldn’t care that Sonya is rubbing Lee’s arm. I wouldn’t have to pretend the way he smiles at her is not bothering me.

  I’m not jealous. That’s not it. At least I don’t think it is. It’s just that I think he can do better. I mean, look at Torch. The fire sculptures are stunning, and the food is out of this world. Or rather, it used to be. The appetizer Tony served us lacked something. It lacked Lee’s… daring.

  Lee leaps before looking, and that fiery spirit creates such unique, daring dishes. But lately, it seems his fire is reserved exclusively for his playthings. Beautiful, dull playthings, like Sonya. He seems happy though, which just emphasizes how little I understand him anymore.

  We used to be so close but with each day that passes, he goes more his way, and I go mine. It’s probably for the best. I’ve stepped back. These days, I focus more on my career and my food blog, not on Lee. I can’t deny, however, that some days, it sneaks up on me how very much I miss him. Giving myself a mental shake, I reach for the wine glass that already needs yet another refill.

  “Are you planning on emptying my wine cellar, Jenna?” Lee asks.

  Oh, so he remembers I’m here?

  “Lee, it’s her birthday!” Sonya laughs as she takes her own drink. “Plus, she’s an adult.”

  “Yeah, Lee.” I point my wine glass at him. “I’m an adult. Not the little girl you knew.”

  “I didn’t mean–”

  “And William knows that. Don’t you, William?”

  I turn to William and notice the difference between his eyes and Lee’s. William’s are grey and calm and safe. Lee’s are green and flashing and dangerous.

  Which is exactly why I’m going to remember only pain for my birthday. Because no matter how much I know I should, I can’t seem to let those dangerous eyes go. I can’t get that fire out of my mind.

  And for a moment—just like other moments I’ve experienced before I brush them away—I want to be burned. By Lee.

  “This is going great,” Bryce chirps as everyone at the table sits in awkward silence and Lee and I glare at each other. “Just great.”

  Lee

  * * *

  I don’t understand why Jenna is acting so cold. Or drinking so much.

  We pretty much fight all the time now. When we see each other, that is, which isn’t often anymore. I didn’t want us to grow apart. That’s all her decision. I can only assume it’s because she’s too good for me now. Too smart. Too successful. I’m just a joke to her.

  “Dessert, sir?”

  Thankfully, Tony breaks the tension Jenna is giving off loud and clear.

  “We have a stupendous flourless chocolate cake to offer. I believe it’s the birthday girl’s favorite.”

  “It looks like Lee already has his dessert,” Jenna mutters just loud enough for me to hear.

  What is her problem?

  “We’ll all have dessert, Tony,” Bryce says. “And coffees, please. Strong coffee.”

  Bryce gives both me and Jenna a pointed look with that brotherly message to knock it off. Hey, it’s her, not me. I mean, those tequila shots hit me pretty hard, but it’s just tequila.

  “Decaffeinated tea for me,” William says, adjusting his glasses. “I have court at eight tomorrow.”

  “Oh, no,” Sonya gasps. “What did you do?”

  Bryce and Jenna grin at each other, making me cringe. Fuck, Sonya.

  “No, no,” William says. “I am a lawyer. Remember, I told that story about my most recent case?”

  No one listened to that, William.

  “Oh!” Sonya giggles. “Right. Well, good. Cause my roommate has to go to court for drug possession. Terrible.”

  “William,” I say, “how are you liking your Cabernet Sauvignon?”

  He takes a sip and mulls it over.

  “Quite good. From Argentina I’d guess. Maybe a 2014 or 2013. Rainfall was significant those years if I remember correctly.”

  From across the table, Jenna gives me one of her classic smirks, because she knows he’s right. Exactly right. I’d tried to show her date isn’t perfect either, but he may know wines even better than I do. Shit.

  “Sonya is walking for Tom Ford at Paris fashion week this year,” I say. “And after that she has a spread in Italian Vogue lined up. Isn't that right, babe?”

  Sonya nods.

  “You're amazing,” I whisper, just loud enough for Jenna to hear me across the table.

  Then I pull Sonya in for a kiss. I make sure to lick my lips after. More importantly, I make sure Jenna sees me lick my lips. Then Jenna reaches for more wine and downs the glass. She scoots her chair closer to her date and drapes her arm around his shoulders.

  “William is preparing to run for District Attorney next year, aren't you, William?” She doesn't wait for him to reply. “Some very important people want him to run for Senate eventually. Tell them, William.”

  “A lot of very important people are very interested in me running for Senate eventually,” he recites like a robot.

  Jenna grabs his chin and twists his face around to smash her lips against his. One of her hands cups his cheek and the other intertwines with his hair at the nape of his neck. She only pulls away from the kiss when Tony brings another glass of wine.

  “This is going to be fun,” Bryce mumbles as he orders himself another drink as well.

  “So, William?” I swirl the ice cube in my whiskey glass and run my fingers up and down Sonya's arm. “Where did you take Jenna on her first date?”

  Jenna’s gaze is the equivalent of icy daggers, and I grin at her as innocently as I can.

  William clears his throat and speaks in such a monotone I bet there's gears and oil inside that suit instead of flesh and blood. “We went to an exhibit about the history of tax law in the 1800s.”

  “Thrilling.” I grab Sonya's hand and bring it to my lips. “Sonya, where did I take you on our first date?”

  I flick my eyes to Jenna.

  “Lee took me on a private jet to Aruba to taste the sugar cane he uses in his restaurant. We ended up laying naked on the beach all day long.”

  As Sonya talks, I lift her hair and pepper kisses along her neck.

>   Jenna takes another swig of wine. It sloshes against the edge as she talks and almost tips over onto the white linen. “Hey, Sonya. What kinds of things do you and Lee talk about?”

  “Um.” Sonya turns to me and her blue eyes look for an answer I don't have. “We, well, I guess we talk about... I talk about fashion at least.”

  “Oh, Lee, I know how much you love fashion. William and I share many deep and intriguing conversations about politics, law, current events. We can talk about anything, really. Together.”

  Jenna pushes her lips against William’s and lifts her leg from under the table and rests it across his lap. She sits herself on his lap and grabs his shoulders.

  “Jenna,” Bryce hisses.

  Jenna giggles and blushes as she moves back to her own chair. William clears his throat and unsubtly rearranges the cloth napkin as if to cover his raging boner.

  “Sorry. William, I just don't know what you do to me. You make me feel so crazy.”

  We all stare at William until the awkward silence is interrupted by dessert being served. Suddenly, Bryce sighs. “This shit has to stop.” He looks at me and shakes his head. “You’re both being asses. When are you going to get your head out of yours? It’s been there since we were supposed to go on that beach trip during spring break.”

  I stiffen and glare at him. I can’t believe he mentioned it…

  Years ago, when we’d all been in college, I’d suggested a spring break beach trip—me, Jenna, and Bryce. After struggling with my growing feelings for her, I’d finally decided maybe I should do something about it. Spend time with her. And see if she and my best friend, her brother, would be open to Jenna and I being more to each other. As soon as I suggested it to Bryce, he’d looked at me, and I’d seen it. I’d never said anything, but he knew how I felt about Jenna. And instead of warning me off, he’d simply agreed that we should ask her. So once she’d come home, I did. I’d even sweetened the pot. Told her I'd cover the hotel and let her drag me to an art museum. It hurt my soul to sacrifice a beach day in favor of a museum day, but I wanted her to say yes.

  She’d laughed and said, “Of course.”

  I’d been psyched as hell.

  Until the day before we were supposed to leave for the beach, and Bryce told me she’d gone back to school.

  “She left?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Left for where?”

  “School.”

  “Wait, she, like, got on a plane?”

  “No, Lee,” Bryce had said, “She took a submarine.”

  It was some bullshit about an unexpected internship that started right away.

  Bryce had winced and slapped me on the shoulder. “Sorry, Lee,” he’d said, and that had been it. We’d never talked about it again.

  So why the hell was he bringing that shit up now?

  “What does that mean?” Jenna asks, jarring me from the past and into the present.

  Bryce cocks a challenging brow at me and opens his mouth to tell Jenna fuck knows what.

  “Don't worry about it, Jenna,” I hurriedly say. “I know how it feels to be so into someone you can’t keep your hands off them.” I dip my finger into the chocolate sauce drizzled across the plate then run it across Sonya's collar bone. “Just a glance from Sonya fills me with such passion.”

  I’m relieved when Jenna seems to forget Bryce’s comment and watches my finger move across Sonya's chest. Perfect. “I lose myself.”

  “Please, no.” Bryce drops his head into his hands.

  “I just forget that I'm even in public.”

  I lower my mouth to the chocolate running down Sonya's skin. But when I close my eyes, in my mind it's a white-collared shirt I’m pulling back. It's a bun I’m pulling loose so her hair can cascade across her shoulders. It's a black blazer I have to unbutton to see the tops of her breasts, heaving and desperate for my tongue.

  It’s Jenna I’m with.

  Chapter 2

  Jenna

  * * *

  When I saw Lee kiss Sonya, I told myself his technique was sloppy. That he kissed like a dead fish. That I certainly, positively, beyond any doubts did not want to kiss Lee Bowers. No. Nope. Not ever.

  So why can’t I get the fantasy of him kissing me out of my head?

  Probably the same reason I’ve fantasized about kissing him for the last ten years.

  I love him.

  And that sucks.

  William opens the door and helps me out of his car. At the look of anticipation on his face, I mentally wince. He wants me to invite him in, and truth be told, at the beginning of the evening, I had every intention of doing so. Of seeing where things could go. He’s actually a nice kisser.

  But my mind is spinning with images of Lee kissing Sonya, and I just want to go inside alone.

  “’Night, William.”

  His eyes widen, then he says, “Goodnight, Jenna. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  After he kisses my cheek, I head in. It takes me three tries to realize I’m putting the key in my apartment front door the wrong way, but it’s dark in the hallway. Can’t blame the alcohol on that.

  I finally get in, manage to close the door, then make my way toward my living room, almost falling on my face as I trip over the law books I had been referencing. But that's because they’re in the middle of the living room, not because I am drunk.

  Ah ha! I see two coolers full of wine in my kitchen, though I have no idea when I bought the second one. After fishing around in the first wine cooler and not finding any bottles, I go right to the second one. I'm not sure if I grab a red or a white, but I don't care.

  I kick off my black shoes. As they sail across my loft, I imagine them hitting Lee smack dab in the face. Something in the apartment shatters, but I'll worry about that in the morning. I wiggle out of my pants and slip off my jacket and shirt.

  Out of curiosity, I stop and peer down at my boobs. The bra is a little old, but if I push them up just a smidge like this ... There. These girls could take on Sonya's rack any day of the week. Of course, that would be giving Lee his greatest fantasy: two girls fighting over him. What a lousy prize that would be. No thanks.

  I toss the sequined party dress that lies rejected on my bed to the floor. I can't believe I spent an hour this afternoon debating whether to wear it to my birthday dinner. I’d parked in front of the mirror turning this way and that, oscillating between delusions of grandeur and crippling self doubt. I’d pictured myself strutting down the catwalk to a shower of cheers like all those models Lee dated no doubt experienced. But then I’d been petrified, imagining Lee laughing at my pathetic attempt to be sexy.

  What if he guessed that I was into him? What if he took pity on me? What if he patted my shoulder and said he was flattered but no thanks anyway?

  Yeah, I'm glad I decided to not wear that dress. A suit is practical, comfortable, and yes, I suppose, safe. I shudder at the thought of putting myself out there in that slinky dress and still not comparing to Lee's date with her golden curls, her long legs, and tiny waist.

  Why is this wine bottle not opening? I keep trying to poke the corkscrew into the top and it's not going in. I bet Lee isn't having this problem.

  I'm sure his corkscrew is slipping right in.

  Stop it. I'm not imagining Lee having sex. I will not. But seriously, this cork is like a rock.

  Oh. It's a twist top.

  I finally unscrew the bottle and now I'm back to picturing Lee screwing. I take a few sips. Still picturing him. Fine, I take a few larger gulps. I just need that picture out of my head.

  Wait, I know what I'll do: replace Lee with William.

  But that requires a bit more wine.

  After chugging like I'm back in my Harvard freshman year, I grab my vibrator from my side table and nestle under the covers. Okay. Here we go.

  I start with a bit of teasing. I try to imagine William in my bed kissing his way along my stomach. I run my fingers along my sides. Now in between my legs, he feels me through my panties
. He stops.

  “You're not wet,” he says.

  “Bite the inside of my thighs,” I instruct him.

  Imaginary William slides further down my bed. The imaginary bites don't do anything for me.

  “How's that?” he says under the covers.

  “Yeah, um, that's not working.”

  I open my eyes to find the wine bottle for another drink and turn the vibrator to the next speed.

  “My nipples now. That always gets me going.”

  I ghost my fingers in circles around my breast until I reach where the nipple should be perky, but I find it uninterested. I squeeze it. Nothing.

  “Come on, William.”

  I flick it. Nothing. I put the vibrator against it and imagine William's mouth around it.

  “Just put it in, William.”

  I slip the vibrator back into my vagina and wait and wait for a feeling … any feeling. My mind slips for just a moment - and in that moment Lee walks in. He tags out William, and takes his place. I know I'm in trouble.

  Lee starts with my ear lobes. He nibbles along them and teases me with his tongue.

  “I bet I can make you come just like this,” he whispers, his breath in my ear.

  I shudder.

  “William tried all your tricks and he couldn't get you there. But I won't touch you anywhere but here.” He flicks his tongue against my ear. “And I'll make you come.”

  I should push Lee away, kick him in his imaginary balls, and tell him to screw off, but oh, it feels so good. I imagine his tongue again, his teeth grazing, his breath hot. I imagine him wanting to touch me, but holding back. I imagine him hard at just the sight of me squirming beneath him, completely at his mercy. All with just his tongue and my ear.

  I come with a moan of Lee's name and then a curse of Lee's name.

  This is not good. I do not like Lee. I repeat. I do not like Lee.

  And he doesn’t like me.

  Right?

  For a second, Bryce’s words that Lee had to get his head out of his ass, and that it had been there since that time we were supposed to go to the beach, pops into my head. We were all on break, and Lee had invited me to go to the beach with him and Bryce. I’d said yes, and was gathering my courage to tell him how I felt about him, but in the end I’d chickened out.

 

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