Dirty Prince

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Dirty Prince Page 26

by Sky Corgan

“I'm inclined to agree.”

  “Now that you've bruised my manhood, entertain me with a story while I recover. Where did this vendetta against balls come from?”

  My cheeks flushed, still embarrassed. Now I had to come up with a lie, and quick. “I figured it out in my early twenties.”

  “How did that come about?”

  “I've never had luck with men. I mean, they've always wanted me. I've never had a hard time getting a date. They just wanted me for the wrong reasons. None of them ever saw past the outside to who I really was. None of them ever cared to see. I just decided I didn't want my relationships to be like that anymore.” Wow, Jen, that was an absolutely horrible story. Couldn't you have done better?

  “Women can be vain too, you know?”

  “I know. But women know what women want. Most women get into relationships based on personality. That's why you see so many ugly men with hot girlfriends. It's rare that it's the other way around.”

  “Men are visual creatures,” Jack admitted.

  “They shouldn't be. What happens when the looks fade?”

  “They get married,” he joked.

  “I'm serious. Relationships based on physical attraction are all good until you get older. Then what are you left with? Oh wait, don't say anything. You're one of those guys who are just going to keep trading her in for a new model every few years.”

  “Well that was rather rude.” He furrowed his brow.

  “You're the one so obsessed with looks. What else am I supposed to assume?” I asked defensively.

  “You make me sound like some womanizing monster.”

  “Isn't that what a playboy is?” I was crossing so many lines, but I didn't know how to stop myself. Shut up, Jen. Just shut up.

  “Is that what you really think of me?”

  “What does it matter? You're my boss, nothing more. Your life is your own. How you live outside of the office is none of my concern. Work is work, remember. And home is home.” Except for the lines between your work life and home life blur with you banging every girl in the office.

  “Maybe you're right to be a lesbian.” Jack took a long sip of champagne. The mood soured.

  “Let's move on from this. We've both had a long day, and I don't want it to end on a bad note. Love is a sore subject for you. Attraction is a sore subject for me. Maybe we should make a list of things we should avoid talking about.”

  “Maybe.” He didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation.

  After a few tense moments, Jack got out of the hot tub and went to towel off. I lingered for a while longer, reflecting on the things said. He was obviously upset with me. Maybe I had struck yet another chord, or perhaps he actually cared what I thought about him. I couldn't really tell.

  The following day, everything seemed back to normal. Jack was his usual chipper self, though I still felt a bit awkward around him due to the conversation of the previous night. It looked like hot tubs would have to go on my list of things to avoid in regard to Jack. I certainly didn't want to take the chance of reliving a similar situation.

  It wasn't until we returned to Syngex that I noticed things were a bit different. In the coming week, chatter in the office took a turn. Instead of boasting about their sexual escapades with Jack, the girls wondered why he hadn't been taking them out on dates. I couldn't help but assume maybe something I had said had sunk in, though it was very doubtful. Jack was set in his ways. It wasn't likely a conversation with a self-proclaimed lesbian was going to change that.

  At the end of the week, Jack invited me out to dinner. I was surprised when there seemed to be no business related reason to our getting together. After our last uncomfortable conversation, I had thought he wouldn't want to be alone with me. In all honesty, I didn't want to be alone with him. Using my better judgment, I decided to blow Jack off, telling him that I had plans with Mandy. If there was no reason for us to be together outside of work, then we shouldn't be together. It just wouldn't look right, and there was no real point in it.

  The following Friday, he asked me out again, and again I declined. In truth, my Friday nights were typically spent at home, renting a movie and eating ice cream in my pajamas. Sometimes, when Mandy didn't have to work, we'd watch movies together. And on lonely nights, I'd go out with Eric for a drink. He was happy to have my company, and it was nice to be around another male besides my boss.

  Jack was persistent though. The third Friday in a row that I rejected his offer for dinner, he finally asked, “What about Saturday?”

  “My weekends are usually busy,” I lied.

  “Too busy to pencil me in anywhere.” He gave me a weak smile. “I'll take whatever time you can spare.”

  “Are you alright?” I was suddenly concerned. What was with this glum look?

  “Fine. I just feel like you're avoiding me.”

  “Why would I avoid you? You're my boss.”

  “Maybe that's why you're avoiding me.”

  “I'm not avoiding you. I'm just busy.”

  We left it at that and I went home, trying to figure out why Jack wanted to hang out with me so badly. It seemed odd. Maybe he needed to get something off his chest. There were psychologists for that though. Jack most certainly did not need me.

  I rented a romantic comedy and settled down onto the sofa, curling up around a half-pint of mint chocolate chip. Mandy was working late, and I didn't feel like drinking. Besides, it had been a while since I watched anything romance related. Romantic movies always left me teary eyed and feeling lonely, something I wasn't very fond of. Still, it was nice to remind myself occasionally that romance existed, whether it be serious or silly—that there was someone out there for everyone.

  I was just now getting stable enough to consider dating again, though I wasn't thinking about it very much. Things were as perfect as they could be, and I wasn't sure adding a distraction such as a boyfriend was a good idea. With all the time that I spent alone with Jack on the job, it might cause drama with a relationship. That was something I didn't want or need. When things got weird, I tended to get irrational and make bad decisions. There was no way I was going to quit my cushy job over some man's jealousy. No, definitely not worth it. A relationship could wait a while longer.

  The doorbell rang, and I groaned in annoyance as I set down my ice cream and went to answer the door. Who could be coming over at this hour? Mandy hadn't told me she would be expecting anyone, and I certainly wasn't.

  Cautiously, I looked out the peephole. The person I saw on the other side of the door made my breath freeze in my lungs. Jack Kemble was on my doorstep. Why?

  For a moment, I thought about going back to my movie, but he had surely heard me walk up. Begrudgingly, I slid the chain lock out of place and then unbolted the door, opening it up to him.

  “Hey you,” I said.

  “Hey.”

  “What's up?”

  Jack looked down at my pajamas. “I thought you'd be out with your friends.”

  Then why'd you bother coming over? “It's movie night.”

  “Oh. What are you watching?”

  “Warm Bodies.”

  “The zombie movie?”

  “Yup.”

  “I haven't seen it yet.”

  “Oh.” The mood was awkward. What did he want?

  “So, are you watching it with friends?”

  “Nope. I'm home alone. Plans fell through this evening, so I got stuck with me, myself, and I,” I said finally, trying to cover up my earlier lie.

  “Care for some company?”

  “Sure.” How could I say no after he drove all the way to my apartment?

  I opened the door wider, allowing Jack to come inside. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the décor. All the stuff on the walls belonged to Mandy, paintings of dude ranches that her grandmother had done before she passed away. I moved around too much to bother putting out my own things.

  Our apartment was small but liveable. It felt strange having mulitbillionaire Jack Kemble wa
lking around inside, not that he hadn't been anywhere smaller or worse. I had learned that by traveling with him. Jack was always a humble guest, grateful to anyone who hosted him, though I never wondered about how genuine he was until now.

  “It's not much,” I felt obligated to say.

  “It's fine,” Jack replied. “Are you going to give me the grand tour or do I wander around aimlessly on my own?”

  I closed the door behind him. “There's not much to see. Obviously, this is the living room.” I gestured toward the television. “The kitchen is over there. And our bedrooms are down the hall.”

  “Mind showing me your room?”

  I wanted to ask why, but instead I just nodded, allowing him to follow me to my room. The inside was less than impressive. There was a twin bed pushed back against the wall, an end table beside that, and a small desk with my old beat up laptop. As with the rest of the apartment, the walls were bare of my things.

  “You're not much into decorating, are you?” Jack commented.

  “Nope. Anything you see on the walls or cabinets belongs to Mandy. I usually don't settle enough in one place to make it worth putting my things out.”

  “That's rather sad.”

  I shrugged. “If you say so. I prefer to call it being prepared for the worst.”

  “You have such a negative outlook on everything.”

  “I'm a realist, and reality usually isn't good.”

  I turned to go back out into the hallway, but he blocked my path. There was something different about him tonight. The air felt heavy suddenly, almost palpable. Jack's blue eyes bore down into me, as unmoving as his body.

  “Let's go watch the movie,” I said, staring straight through him as if he wasn't even there. Jack lifted a hand to caress my face, sending a shiver of electricity throughout my body. Why was he touching me? Why was he so close? “What are you doing?” I asked. My mind told me to move away, but my body wouldn't let me. There were so many strange changes these past weeks. Jack hadn't been sleeping with the girls in the office; his mood had been off, and now this. I wasn't sure what to make of it all. He leaned down, and I knew in that moment Jack meant to kiss me. Without a second thought, my hand came up to rest on his firm chest, my face turning so that he'd miss the mark. “What are you doing?” I asked again, only moments before Jack's mouth would have made contact with my lips.

  “I need to know something,” he whispered.

  “What's that?”

  “What only kissing you will tell me.”

  “What could a kiss possibly tell you?”

  “Everything.”

  Before I had a chance to respond, Jack's hand gripped me gently under the chin, redirecting my mouth. My heart drummed in my ears as our lips met. His moved softly against mine, cautiously . . . but I was so shocked that all I could do was stand there, unsure of whether I should reciprocate or not—of whether I wanted to reciprocate or not.

  Jack closed his eyes, seeming to savor the feel of my lips. I kept my eyes wide open, watching him the entire time. When Jack finally pulled away, I was at a loss for words. The way he looked at me was different than before. Then, as if nothing had happened, he said, “Let's go watch the movie.”

  Not knowing what to say, I followed Jack out of my room and down the hall to the living room, sitting beside him and taking the remote in hand. For a moment, I thought about asking if he wanted me to restart the movie so he could see it from the beginning, but then I realized I wanted him out of my apartment as quickly as possible. I needed to sort out what had just happened.

  We watched the movie in silence. Or rather, Jack watched the movie in silence. My mind wouldn't shut up, my body super sensitive to everything around me. He was sitting so close our legs were touching—closer than necessary. I licked my lips, and I tasted him on them. Mmm the taste of Jack Kemble. It was then I realized my stress wasn't just from the strange event that had occurred, but also from my own sexual frustration. Jack Kemble was sitting beside me, gorgeous and willing. He had made the first move. Now the ball was in my court. If I wanted him, I could have him. All it would take would be for me to lean over and return the affection he had tried to bestow on me. Within minutes, we could be in the bedroom, his fit body moving on top of mine, taking me to places I hadn't been to in so long. There was no question I desired him. But the consequences of those desires were too much to bear. I couldn't risk it—couldn't risk everything for one night of pleasure.

  By the time the movie ended, I was completely numb. My body was on overdrive with lust, and it was taking everything in me to still it. Why was this man sitting beside me so tempting?

  “That was an interesting movie,” Jack said as the credits began to roll. “It didn't really make any sense, but I guess that's fantasy for you.”

  “Yeah,” was all I could think of to say.

  “Now what?” he asked, making my stomach twist into a snake pit of nerves all over again. What did he mean by that?

  “That's the only movie I rented,” I replied, hoping he would get the hint that he needed to leave.

  “If you still want to go out, it's not too late. We could go to a bar, or I could show you my place.” There was something dark behind his offer to show me his place—something I didn't like.

  “I'm tired and Mandy will be home soon. You should probably go,” I suggested.

  “I thought your friend wanted to meet me.”

  “She does, but I don't feel like being up all night listening to her talk about you like some fangirl.”

  “Well you're no fun,” Jack huffed playfully.

  “I never claimed to be,” I said dryly.

  “I guess I'll go then.” He stood. “Though I would have liked to spend more time with you.”

  “You spend eight hours a day with me five days a week. Sometimes more than that. Isn't that enough?”

  “I spend most of that time in my office, so it's technically not spent with you.”

  “Still.”

  He was beginning to catch on to my discontent. “I thought we could be friends outside of work.”

  “Friends don't kiss, Jack.” I gave him a serious look.

  “That was research.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Research?” I arched an eyebrow, leading him to the door.

  “Mhm.”

  “And what did you discover from that research?”

  “That you're definitely not a lesbian.”

  My heart stuck in my chest. Could Jack really tell from one non-reciprocating kiss, or was he just pretending to know? The smug look on his face made me even less happy.

  “You can't tell that from a kiss,” I insisted.

  “Of course I can. I've kissed a lot of women. Hundreds,” Jack boasted. “You can tell a lot about a woman by the way she kisses.”

  “You just said by the way she kisses. I didn't actually kiss you. You kissed me, and I didn't reciprocate.”

  “But you wanted to. I could tell.” He stood on my doorstep, grinning as if he was the best mind reader in the world.

  “Well, if you can tell so much from a kiss, then you can also tell I'm not one of your blonde sluts.” I slammed the door in Jack's face, exasperated. Instantly, I regretted it, but my pride wouldn’t allow me to open the door, no matter how many times he rang the bell. Who did he think he was? Hundreds of women. That certainly didn't make Jack anymore appealing.

  I stood with my back pressed against the door, listening to the doorbell ring repeatedly, to him calling my name. Part of me wanted to shatter into a million pieces and sob. Another part of me just wanted to get away. I felt trapped.

  Eventually, the doorbell stopped ringing, and I felt safe enough to return to the couch. What had just happened? I couldn't comprehend it. Had he come over specifically with the intentions of kissing me? It sure seemed like it. Maybe I should have taken Jack up on his offer for dinner. I doubted he would have been bold enough to try to kiss me in public. Getting caught kissing one of his employees couldn't po
ssibly look good. While everyone knew Jack slept with his employees, it was a closed-door affair. None of the girls were dumb enough to take that information public.

  To keep my mind off things, I restarted the movie. Thanks to my thoughts being on Jack the entire time he was over, I had missed most of it anyway. After about fifteen minutes of being unable to concentrate, I resigned to turning off the movie and curling up on the couch with a box of tissues to sob out my frustration. What would this mean for Jack and I now? What would this mean for my job? It felt like one kiss had changed everything. And even worse, when he was on my doorstep, I practically admitted I had lied about being a lesbian. I called my co-workers sluts too. He would probably fire me now. Everything I had worked so hard for felt like it melted away at the sensual touch of Jack's lips.

  When Mandy got home from work, I was no better off. She found me on the sofa and instantly knelt at my side in concern. Despair filled me. The look on her face plainly said she thought I had quit my job or gotten fired. It was hurtful, in and of itself, and only made me want to cry more, especially because I thought the truth of Mandy's fears was right around the corner.

  “What's wrong?” she asked.

  “Jack came over, and he kissed me, and I got mad, and I called the girls in the office his sluts,” I coughed out.

  “Jack Kemble was here . . . in our apartment,” was the only part she heard. “Why was he here?”

  “I don't know. He stalked me. I told him I didn't want to go out with him tonight, so he came over instead . . . without my permission.”

  Mandy's sympathy quickly faded away. “That's it? Why are you crying? That's nothing to cry over.”

  “I don't know. I don't want an intimate relationship with him. It will ruin my job.”

  “Jack Kemble has an intimate relationship with all of his female employees. You've acknowledged that yourself. None of them have quit or been fired over it. I don't understand why you're freaking out.”

  “I don't want to be a part of his stupid harem. But if I refuse him, I feel like he'll fire me.”

  Now she was a bit more concerned. “I see. So, don't refuse him.” She shrugged.

  “That's not fair. I feel like I'm going to be forced to sleep with him.”

 

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