Kennedy reaches to touch his forearm. “Not necessary at all, Jesse. I’ll be good. I promise.”
I hate the spike of jealousy I feel at seeing her touch him. He’s not mine. I don’t get to be jealous. He definitely was ready to sleep with me last night though, and that has to count for something. If I was keeping score, that is. It’s just an innocent touch on the arm, at least it would be if I didn’t know Kennedy better. She would never take a guy out from under my nose, but I’ve been doing my best to convince everyone that I’m not interested in Jesse. The only one who still doesn’t believe I don’t want him is me.
“Stop crossing your fingers then,” I say, a little more testily than I intend. “I swear, you’re about as mature as a four-year-old sometimes.”
“Oh come on,” says Kennedy. “Kids don’t start doing the crossed fingers thing until at least like eight or nine, right?”
Jesse looks at me with those gorgeous eyes, looking impeccably tall and strong beside Kennedy’s small frame. “I’ll be brooding on the loveseat. Where I can see you.”
I can’t be entirely upset. I may not want Kennedy ogling him all night and botching her lines, but I also have to admit to liking the idea of keeping Jesse where I can see him, too. He sits in the loveseat, planting his feet wide and pulling out his phone. He looks so good that a dirty part of me wants to jump on his lap and wrap my arms around that strong neck of his. I want to feel his cock hardening under my ass and watch the desire blossom in his eyes. I got a taste of his need for me last night, and I thought leaving would quench my feelings for him, but all it has done is made me even hungrier.
“Want something to drink?” I ask Kennedy.
“You know me so well,” she says. Her eyes dart past me to Jesse and linger there too long.
I snap my fingers. “Focus, Kennedy.”
I hear Jesse cough from behind me and have to drag Kennedy by the arm into the kitchen.
“Sorry,” she says when we’re out of Jesse’s earshot. “Are you two… you know? Because I’ll back off--reluctantly--if you two are a thing already.”
“No,” I say slowly. “He’s just my bodyguard. That’s all.”
“Well then,” purrs Kennedy.
I force a smile, not liking the thoughts I can see churning behind her eyes at all. “Red wine?” I ask with somewhat forced cheerfulness.
“Perfect!” she sings, rummaging through Jesse’s cabinets to find glasses.
“I don’t know if he even has any--”
“Above the fridge,” he calls.
We both stop dead, eyes wide. How did he hear that?
“Does he have super hearing or something?” hisses Kennedy.
“Yes,” calls Jesse.
I feel my cheeks burn hot and even Kennedy looks embarrassed. I grab a bottle of wine, not even thinking about which one. I pour Kennedy and myself a glass, but she grabs the bottle and fills her glass until it’s nearly overflowing. She sucks down a few gulps before walking back into the living room.
“You should consider letting scientists study those ears of yours,” Kennedy retorts. “I could study the rest of you if--”
I nudge her, nearly making her spill her wine. Jesse doesn’t look up from his phone, but I think I see the hint of a grin on his face. Does he like that she’s flirting with him?
“Lines,” I say, wincing when the word comes out harshly, like a curse.
Kennedy mimics me as she rummages through her bag for the script. “Since when are you Ms. Get To Business?”
I give her a warning glare and grab my own script. It takes a little while to get comfortable reading lines with Jesse sitting in the corner of the room. He doesn’t look up from his phone, but I can practically feel him listening to us.
A few glasses of wine later, we’re appropriately loosened up and far too tipsy to be doing any real work with our lines. The sun has set outside, and there’s a calm peacefulness to Jesse’s apartment at night. The large windows let all the starlight in I could ever want, and he looks absolutely divine in that chair, working on his laptop while we drunkenly fumble through our lines.
“You’ve got to… uhhh” says Kennedy, smiling wide. “Tell those--you know… those people. Tell them I’m going to be reaaaal mad if they don’t do what I say.”
I cover my mouth, trying to hold back a laugh. “Oh I’ll tell them. Wait,” I say. “I’m reading Aaron’s lines right now.”
Kennedy laughs. “Fuck it! You be Aaron! I’ll be me!”
“No way! The scene ends with a kiss. I’m not kissing you,” I say, laughing. I notice Jesse glance up from his computer for the first time, shifting in his seat.
“I don’t have cooties,” says Kennedy.
“I’ll read the lines, but I’m not kissing you,” I laugh.
“Ohh, but I can be very… seductive,” says Kennedy, reaching to squeeze a handful of my ass.
We both laugh before launching back into the lines. I’m highly conscious of Jesse watching us now, computer forgotten in his lap.
“Will you wait for me?” asks Kennedy a few minutes later, when we’ve stumbled and fallen through most of the scene.
“You know I will,” I say in the deepest voice I can manage.
She steps toward me, touching my cheek and leaning so close I can smell the wine on her breath. I feel the full weight of Jesse’s attention on me. I can practically sense his sexual arousal crackling through the room like electricity. Knowing he’s turned on has me excited, and I briefly consider actually kissing Kennedy, just to see what Jesse would do. But when she starts leaning in for the kiss, I put my hand over her mouth and theatrically kiss the back of my own hand, dipping her and pretending to maul her with passionate kisses.
I lean her back a little too far and we both fall to the floor, laughing. “Were you licking my hand?” I ask, clutching my stomach as laughter rips through me.
“Just a little,” she says with a devilish smirk.
Jesse coughs loud and I see him looking at his computer again. I also see the huge outline of his cock straining against his pants.
“Jesse,” says Kennedy, still sitting on the ground. “Why don’t you play Aaron? I can’t take Makayla serious. She plays such a bad man.”
“No thanks,” says Jesse.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” chides Kennedy.
“She really won’t,” I tell Jesse. “Just humor her.”
Even through the haze of wine that’s making my head spin, I’m shocked as hell when Jesse actually stalks over and snatches a script from my hand. There’s something in his eyes I can’t place. A challenge? All I can do is stay on the floor where I lounge and watch as Kennedy stumbles to her feet and stands across from him, grinning down at her script.