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I blink hard, wipe my eyes, and look again to make sure I’m not seeing things.

Austin Smut?

What the fuck?

23

Jada

I’m out of breath coming into the condo. Oh. He’s here. He’s early. Why is he early?

He’s sitting on a stool at the island and his eyes are pointed at my screen. My laptop screen.

He’s got a plate of dinner beside him. His eyes… They are on my screen.

Oh. My. Fucking. Shit.

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, NO.

It’s over.

I will die of embarrassment right here, right now.

Dead. Gone. Bye-bye, Jada.

He licks his lips and then looks like he’s mentally counting.

I stand there, frozen in my shame. Frozen in my utter and complete disgrace.

“Where were you?” he asks, eyes still on my screen.

I’m floored. What an odd thing for him to lead with.

I know he knows. I can see it in his eyes. I know by his tone. I don’t know how to measure what I see but I know what I’m seeing is there because of what he’s read.

I hold the bag up.

“Avocados.”

“Why?” he asks calmly. Too calmly.

“To make you some guac.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t like guacamole.”

“Oh,” I say.

His eyes move to me slowly. Very slowly.

He shakes his head, looking at me like he’s about to… to what? Tell me to get out? Explode? What?

“You’d better get over here,” he announces and then he rolls his eyes.

“I what?”

“Right now,” he demands, pointing to the floor in front of him.

I bristle.

His chest is falling and rising like he’s mentally counting, trying to calm himself down.

Someone talking to me like this would typically, what… send me running away screaming? Make me run straight up and do just what I’ve been told?

I don’t know.

But right now, I want to give him the middle finger. Right now I want to swear at him. Or maybe burst out crying because I’m sure he’s read things I never dreamed he’d read.

I also want to curl into a ball and cry out of embarrassment.

But I can’t move. I can’t freaking move. I’m rooted in place. Because my brain can’t unravel itself after the shock of seeing him with his eyes on my laptop screen short-circuited my brain.

What on earth would possess me to leave that laptop out here?

He’s never been home this early before, and the guac afterthought just hit me and I was only gone no more than thirty minutes to buy that avocado from the bodega a couple blocks away. He’s usually not home for at least a few more hours.

But how could I do that? And even though I did, in fact leave that out, I know that the highly offensive offending document wasn’t open. I haven’t opened it today.

So, did he snoop?

Obviously by his face I can see that he did.

Do something, Jada.

Say something.

I will myself to do something.

I can’t move. Can’t swallow. Can’t even blink.

“You didn’t,” I finally say.

I say it hoping he’s about to look confused. Hoping I’m wrong about what I don’t think I’m wrong about.

“Oh yeah, I most certainly did.” He folds his arms. “You coming over here or am I coming over there?”

“Uh, what?”

He marches over to me and I shrink against the door.

He’s towering over me as he gets directly in front of me.

I plead with my throat to find the strength to work down a swallow.

It doesn’t happen.

And now he’s tipping my chin up with his index finger.

I stare, in shock.

“Someone’s been naughty,” he says in a husky voice.

My lips part. My eyes feel like they’re popping out of their sockets.

He grabs the avocado bag from my hand, takes my hand into his and marches me to the island. He sets the fruit down and then he’s turning me so I’m forward against the island. He’s directly at my back.

My heart races.

His mouth is right by my ear. “Somebody forgot the guacamole, so maybe they need their ass smacked.”

I draw breath in sharply.

“You just said you don’t like guac.”

I can’t believe that was my response even as I’m saying it.

He chuckles into my ear and then kisses behind it.

Yep, my heart is going to leap straight out of my chest.

“That’s not the point.”

I swallow. Finally, I manage to do it.

Did Austin Carmichael just touch his lips behind my ear?

“The point is, following the rules.”

Oh my good gravy. That’s a line straight out of the Austin Smut file.

I blow out a breath as I feel his hands cup my hips.

His hands are on my hips!

“Bend forward, cheek to the counter.”

“Wh-what?”

“I think you heard me,” he growls.

God, my nipples are completely erect.

“It was just a joke,” I say. “I get paid to write that stuff. It’s a gig. I just borrowed our names. It’s just…”

“Don’t lie to me.”

I snap my mouth shut.

“Are you gonna be a chicken-shit or are you gonna own up to what you did, what you want.”

I’m shaking. And the gusset of my panties is now drenched.

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