“What’s up?” Jethro calls from his sprawl on the sofa when I enter the apartment. “Weren’t you supposed to be out tonight?”
“I fucked up,” I inform him, and trudge to my room. I throw myself on my bed and press an arm over my eyes to blot out the world. “I’m such a pathetic failure.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s in my room, standing by my bed.
“I couldn’t go through with it. Couldn’t bring her here, fuck her. If a girl doesn’t come, she can fake it, you know? But when a guy can’t come…”
He kicks at the bed base, then shoves me. “Get up.”
“What for?”
“I said I’d help you, didn’t I?”
Intrigued, I lift my arm. “How?”
“Come on, dickbag. Move.”
I give him a suspicious look. His dark eyes are sparkling. He’s up to something. “I’m not moving from here until you tell me what you’re planning.”
“Suit yourself.”
He saunters out of the room, and I stay where I am for a long moment, fighting curiosity and a weird sort of excitement that’s akin to fear.
Curiosity wins out and I get up, loosening my tie. I went directly from work to pick Candy up, and I’m still in my confining office attire.
He’s not in the living room, and I hear no sounds from the bathroom, so I push the door of his bedroom open and step inside.
He’s bent over, rummaging in his closet, and damn, his ass is sexy in those jeans.
I mean, muscular. Strong.
Shit.
Also, the closet reminds me I was going to search it for the mysterious item Jet was so hush-hush about.
He straightens with a shirt in one hand and turns toward me, the ink on his arms shifting. “He has moved! He is alive.”
“Shut up.”
Yeah, I’m cranky. I’ve been hard all evening and most of the day, and instead of bringing Candy here and fucking her to a screaming orgasm, I told her I can’t do that. Instead, here I am standing in Jet’s bedroom in hopes that my lunatic roommate may have found a cure to my ailment.
Maybe I should try sex therapy.
“Come here.”
“What do you have in mind?” I ask, wary. I’ve exposed myself to him more than I have to any other person, and now I wonder if it was a mistake.
Not that he’d betray me. Never. But this could be potentially very embarrassing if he decides to help me get off.
Somehow.
And the possibility shouldn’t make me hard again, dammit.
His gaze dips to my crotch, and a brow arches.
“So?” I groan, sinking down on his bed.
“Thinking of nerdy girl, are you?”