Page 83 of I See You

“Hit this.” He held out the blunt, his dark eyes locked onto hers. Sheshookherhead.“No,Ireallyneedtoheadhome.Longday.”

She knew exactly what being high and in Hassan’s presence would do to her, and she wasn’t about to slip up.

“Hit this.” He repeated, and this time, his tone left no room for negotiation.

Sevyn sighed, taking the blunt from his fingers, bringing it to her lips. A small chuckle escaping her lips. “You repeated yourself,” she teased, her voice light, almost playful. The smoke curled around her as she inhaled and exhaled slowly, aware of the way his eyes followed her movements like he was studying every inch of her. Then, before she could process it, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap.

“Hassan… what are you doing?” Her voice wavered slightly, feeling his hardened length press against her through his jeans.

“I fucked that girl in every inch of this office,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Figured you wouldn’t wanna sit in the mess I made.”

A shiver ran down her spine, but she recovered quickly, rolling her eyes as she passed the blunt back to him. “Who was she, anyway? Your girlfriend?” she asked, curiosity slipping into her voice.

Hassan took a slow pull, his other hand resting on her waist like it belonged there. “Nah,” he exhaled. “Just someone I use when I need to escape some shit. Or someone.”

Sevynnodded,hermindpiecingthingstogether.Weedandsex. His coping mechanisms. It was easy to see. Too easy.

“Stop readin’ me, bruh.”

His voice was smooth, but the sharpness in his gaze told her he knew exactly what she was doing.

Sevyn smirked, leaning in slightly, her lips just inches from his ear.

“Then stop being so easy to read.”

His grip on her waist tightened, and she felt his body tense beneath her. But neither of them moved away. Neither of them let go.

Sevyn chuckled, shifting slightly in his lap, but no matter how she moved,she couldn’t escape the feeling of him beneath her. His dick was there—thick, heavy, and only growing harder by the second. The realization sent a slow heat curling through her, pooling low in her stomach. Her ass was fat, and she knew by the way his grip subtly flexed on her waist that he was enjoying the way she felt pressed against him, even if he didn’t say a word.

“So which one were you escaping this time?” she asked, taking the blunt from his fingers, her voice laced with curiosity. “Something or someone?”

“Both,” he answered simply, his tone even, but his eyes burned into her like he was daring her to dig deeper.

She nodded, taking another slow pull from the blunt. She couldn't believe this was happening—sitting in Hassan’s lap, smoking, their bodies flush against each other like it was the most natural thing in the world. This was not how she envisioned their conversation playing out. She thought he’d shut her down the moment she walked through that door, dismiss her like he did everyone else, but he didn’t.

Something about her made him soft, even when he fought it.

She was about to press him again, about to ask what exactly he was running from, but before she could get a word out, he cut her off. “Wenotinoneofyoursessions,Sevyn.Justenjoytheblunt, mane,” he murmured, his voice lazy, but firm.

She laughed, the sound airy and light, the weed hitting her just enough to make her feel weightless. “Fine.”

And so they sat, passing the blunt back and forth in comfortable silence, the tension thick, the air hazy, neither of them acknowledging the undeniable pull between them—but both of them feeling it.

Chapter 11

Hassan exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his gaze locked onto Sevyn, who now sat perched on the edge of his desk. He knew she couldn’t stay in his lap any longer without feeling things she shouldn’t—things they both weren’t ready to acknowledge. So she’d cleared a spot, distancing herself just enough to regain some composure. But even high, even in silence, she was studying him. Her curiosity was like a slow burn, and he could see it in the way she kept shifting, the way her lips parted slightly like she was holding back a question.

“What, mane?” he asked, his voice low, amused.

Her soft chuckle made something inside him tighten, something he wasn’t ready to name. She had this way of disarming him, and he hated it.

“If you don’t gamble, why did you start a casino?” she finally asked.

His chest tightened at the question. She was too damn perceptive. Before she could say anything else, before she could apologize or backpedal, he cut her off.

“My pops loved to gamble. The casino was basically his second home.” He exhaled another cloud of smoke, staring past her, like he was looking at something only he could see. “He died when I was young, so I guess this is my way of using his addiction for something positive.”

Sevyn’s eyes widened, her soft features shifting as she absorbed his words. Hassan knew he’d said more than he meant to. More than he ever intended to. But that was the problem with Sevyn—she pulled things out of him without even trying. It was like she peeled him open, layer by layer, without him realizing it until it was too late.

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