How to Date the Guy You Hate by Julie Kriss Page 0,17
I didn’t need one, since I already knew the menu by heart, but Jason would.
I curled my hands around my water glass and tried not to fidget. I was not nervous. No way. Okay, so things had been a little intense between me and Jason yesterday, and we’d nearly fucked, and he’d made me come on the grass, in public. That didn’t mean things had to be weird.
The door opened and he walked in, and I fought the urge to hide under the table.
He was wearing jeans, boots, and a black warm-up jacket, zipped to his chin. He still carried the bruised scuff on one cheekbone, but otherwise he looked freshly showered, his dark hair still damp, his jaw clean-shaved. He moved easily, and he looked refreshed and relaxed, as if he’d had a good sleep, unlike me. Tina stared at him as he sauntered over to my booth and slid in.
“Hey,” he said. “Why the hell are we meeting so early?”
“I told you, I have an appointment,” I said. I’d need a few hours to drive to Detroit, especially with traffic.
“Something important, huh?” he said, grabbing a menu and opening it. Tina came by, and he gave her a grin that pretty much rendered her mute. “I’ll have a coffee, thanks.”
I nodded the same, and Tina left.
“Why this place?” Jason asked me, scanning the menu. “Aren’t you sick of it since you used to work here?”
It was like we were old buddies, hanging out for breakfast. I felt my spine stiffen, my jaw go tight. “The food is good.”
“Okay then, you pick me something. I’m starving.” He closed the menu and put it back down, then unzipped his warm-up jacket, revealing a gray t-shirt underneath. “What?” he said, watching my face.
Thirty seconds in, and already I was failing at this. “Jason, this is weird,” I confessed. “Isn’t it weird?”
He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the seat next to him. “It isn’t weird for you,” he said. “At least you got some. Me, they can see my balls from space.” He turned back to me. “So, are we going to a wedding or what?”
I stared at him, open-mouthed.
“What?” he said again.
“It’s like you’re a different person every time I see you.”
“I’m in a good mood,” he said. “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy that?”
“You’re in a good mood after I basically cockblocked you?”
He shrugged. “That’s what showers are for.”
For a second my mind went blank. Then it clicked. “You do… that?” I choked. “In the shower?”
“All the time,” he said, tilting his empty coffee cup and staring into it hopefully. “It’s my favorite place to do it.”
He was still damp. From the shower.
My neck went hot, and my cheeks, and for an insane second I pictured it in perfect, salacious detail. Jason jerking off in the shower. How often? I wanted to ask him. Every day? More than once? What do you think about? How long does it take?
I remembered his fingers between my legs, his tongue in my mouth. And that cock of his—I’d felt it, no mistake. I’m packing some heat, he’d said. I’d relived it over and over again in all of my dirty fantasies last night.
I couldn’t really say that I had a lot of experience with penises. I’d experienced a few, but I wasn’t a connoisseur. Of the penises I’d seen, live and in person, I could say as an overall statistic that they were average. Nothing crazy. Just regular dicks, hanging out, doing their thing.
Jason’s was a work of art.
I remembered it clearly, even when I tried my best to forget. It had everything—size. Length. Girth. Smoothness. Overall proportion. And I’d been forcibly reminded of it when it had nearly made me come through my panties yesterday as I’d lain on the ground beneath him in the park like a crazy woman.
I was saved from having to explain my hyperfocus on Jason’s anatomy when Tina came back to the table, as if summoned by my awkward humiliation, and asked for our orders. I opened my mouth and somehow a breakfast order came out, one for me and one for him. I must have made sense, because Tina nodded and walked away. Get some control, Megan, I told myself.
“Okay,” I said to Jason when Tina was out of earshot. “First of all, let’s make something clear. That is not happening again.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Damn, that’s too bad. Are you sure?”
No. “Yes. Absolutely.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
I felt a small pang at that—am