Me: No, he’s in the shower.
Vix: And you haven’t joined him?
Me: VIX
Vix: What!! you know you want to, you have the opportunity to shoot your shot. Do it.
Me: Not happening, he’s only helping me with the Jasper issue. He doesn’t like me like that.
Vix: The fuck he doesn’t. I saw that look he gave you when he met you at the club. He likes you Myssa.
Me: You are delusional, but that’s why I love you. Are you working tonight? Was going to head over to the club later.
Vix: yeah I’ll be there. Come in around 9 so we can talk before it gets busy. Oh, and Myssa?
Me: Yeah?
Vix: Wear that little number we bought a few weeks ago.
Me: Fine, but I know what you are trying to do. It’s not going to work.
Vix: We’ll see.
Chapter 22
Myssa
Ismile widely to myself, wishing what Vix said was true. I toss my phone next to me on the bed, and laying back, I go back to my daydream of Zayne in the shower. His hands soaping up his body…from the looks of his arms and how toned they are, I can only imagine what the rest of him looks like. The thoughts are torturing me, and the flames from them burn in my mind as I close my eyes, contemplating touching myself to relieve the ache that has taken over.
There’s a soft knock on my door. Startled, my eyes shoot open, and I immediately fumble, trying to sit up.Way to be smooth, Myssa.If the heat of embarrassment wasn’t visible before, it’s clear and present now. I can safely say I was not ready for what greets me.
Zayne, his dark hair tasseled, wearing a pair of dark sweats cut low and showing off his chiseled, tattooed body, the V cut of his hips with those sexy little veins that stretch below his waistband. Good fucking God, is he going commando? I’m gawking, I know I am, and I honestly don’t give a shit.
Where the fuck is his shirt? Sweet Jesus, he is doing all sorts of things to me, with his one arm above his head, holding onto the top of the doorframe as he leans in. I’m not even apologeticabout my stare, as he’s not playing fair. And by that mischievous grin staring back at me, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He breaks the silence.
“Do you know what you want to eat?”
“Yeah, you,”I mumble, not realizing I said it out loud.
“I’m sorry?”
Oh fuck. My eyes widen, and I die a little inside, but quickly recover.
“Um, no, I’m not really picky,” I squeak out.Jesus, Myssa, focus.
He just smiles. “Pizza it is, then.” He walks away, and I silently curse at myself again to get it together.
Just when I think I’m safe enough to let out a deep sigh and close my eyes, he pops his head back in, scaring the crap out of me.
“What do you like on your pizza?”
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” I say, holding my chest.
“Sorry.” He chuckles.
“Anything but olives and mushrooms,” I blurt out.
“Got it, ok, I’ll go order.” He taps on top of the door, still showcasing that damn grin.
