“Jaden. Jaden Taylor. What’s yours?”
“Senna Lloyd.”
“Good, Senna. You have to guess my size...” He pauses and smirks. “My clothing size, that is. I need a clean bill of health from you as well, and my sexual preferences are not up for discussion. Would that work for you?”
I nod once. He starts moving, and I grab his forearm. My hand melts on his skin.
He looks down as I take in a long breath, my nerve endings grasping the feel of his skin, the warmth of his body, and his muscles' hardness.
“What’s No Ash?” I ask.
He grazes his lip with his teeth again. Heat pours over me as I register the slow motion, the unfurling of his bottom lip, and the glistening of his moist flesh.
“It’s no ass, no kiss, no bareback.”
“And no women.”
“Not for money. Usually,” he says, his fingers trailing across my knuckles. My body turns into a fluid mess, a swarm of goosebumps crawling up my arm.
“Why’s that?” I ask softly as if afraid to end this moment.
“They’re trouble.”
His hand cuffs my wrist as he peels my fingers away from his arm. He holds my hand for a moment, enough for my heart to flip waywardly a few times, and then breaks away.
“Two o’clock. On Thursday. I’ll be in front of Jill’s.”
My voice follows him as he pushes out the door. I press my hands against my cheeks and shake my head.
I can’t believe I’m blushing.
6
JADEN
“Food is ready.”
Sara’s voice rings somewhere in the back.
“Don’t wait for me. I already ate. I’ll be out in a second,” she says, her voice traveling from the bathroom to the bedroom and the living room, a soft whimpering following her around.
I take off my boots and walk into the kitchen. A delicious smell greets me.
I retrieve a clean plate from the dishwasher and fill it with food I scoop out from the pots on the stove.
“Somebody’s hungry,” she says, her soft blue eyes glinting with an endearing smile.
She wears a tailored gray dress and heels and studies my face as she nears the fridge.
Her blonde hair almost brushes her shoulders.
She swings the door open and fumbles through the food containers before taking out something. She pulls a drawer open and fishes out an ice cream scoop.
“I made your favorite dessert.”
“Thank you,” I say, finishing the food I had on my plate. “You look good,” I murmur, motioning up and down with my fork. “It makes you look more mature.”
“That’s what I aimed for. Besides, I don’t have anything else to wear. Hopefully, this is good enough for my first interview.”