"And what kind of dick wouldIbe?" He gave a slow shake of his head. "To show up, wearing those fucking things in front of you?"
"Well maybe, it wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't let that chick use you as a human napkin."
Even to my own ears, the analogy sounded woefully inadequate. It wasn't like that girl had wiped a mouthful of chicken grease on his sleeve. It was so much worse. She'd been pressing her lips onto his groin.
She'd wanted him. They all wanted him. I recalled how I'd felt when Jakehadn'tbeen mine. I'd wanted him with every fiber of my being. Istillwanted him that way.
But now, gazing up at him, I was feeling more uncertain with every passing second.
Again, Jake glanced toward the elevator. For the second time, he said, "We done?"
The coldness in his voice hurt to hear. Desperately, I tried again. "No. We're not done. Because I have a question."
He gazed down at me in stony silence.
Taking that for a yes, I struggled to find the words, words that might make him understand exactly how I was feeling. Deliberately, I softened my tone. "If that were me, if our positions were reversed, if some guy planted his face inmycrotch, what wouldyoudo?"
His jaw clenched. "Youknowwhat I'd do."
He was wrong. I didn't. But Ididknow that he wouldn't like it, and that was my whole point.
But before I could drive the point home, Jake leaned closer and spoke again. "I'd fuckin' kill him. That's what I'd do."
