Page 35 of Little Paper Games
“You don’t have to, you know,” he added as my hand reached for the doorknob. “I mean, you are going to be over here in a few hours, anyway. But, I mean, it’s your call.”
He was awkward, and it was a little endearing. I mean, dumb. It was annoying. It was… well; it was awkward seeing Jude act like this.
“Hey, I’m not in the right attire for later anyway,” I joked, honestly not knowing if I wanted to stay or not.
“Go grab the robe and thigh highs because they are hot as hell, but if you’re as bored as I am today, come back and we can at least be not as bored, together,” he offered. He had a point.
Together and bored was better than alone and bored. Maybe. We’d see.
I quickly headed back to my place and cleaned up, brushing my teeth so I didn’t have curry breath. I don’t know why I felt the need to do that when we were just going to watch porn, anyway.
Seriously, what kind of bucket list item was that, anyway? Grabbing my thigh highs and the robe quickly, I paused only for a second before making my way back to Jude’s.
The door was open when I reached it, allowing me to enter without knocking.
“Jude?” I called out tentatively.
“In here,” he called from a room off of the living room. When I found him, my jaw dropped at the home gym he’d set up. One wall was full of mirrors, giving it a real gym feel.
“What did you do in here?” I asked, in a little bit of awe.
“Redecorated, of course,” he said smugly. I honestly hadn’t thought to redecorate the place more than one would any average apartment. In my head, it was my parents’ place, and I had just never let myself really unwind and make it my own.
“What are we doing in here?” I asked, looking around at the equipment, my eyes finally meeting his in the oversized mirrors.
“Watching porn, of course,” he said with a shrug and a quirk of his eyebrow.
“Porn,” I repeated dumbly. “How exactly —”
“I’ll show you,” he explained. But didn’t explain at all. I stood there, feeling useless and awkward while he moved things around and made some space near the center of the room. Each piece of equipment moved towards the walls. Once that was finished, he moved to the living room, taking the chaise from the corner — one I hadn’t even noticed, truth be told — and scooted it slowly into the room.
“I could help, you know,” I chuckled, watching him struggle to get the piece of furniture into the room.
“I’ve got it, Red.” He situated the chaise in front of the mirrors and near a semi-large television.
“Okay, I have to ask. If the point is to be comfortable watching porn on a television, why didn’t we just use the furniture in the living room,” I playfully chided.
“Little innocent, Kenna. It’s not about the television. It’s not about the chaise.” His voice was deeper, more seductive.
“It’s not?” I audibly gulped. There was something in the way he looked at me just then.
“No,” he chuckled, walking over to me. He took my hand and led me to the chaise, placing me in front of him, facing the television. His eyes found mine in the mirror, his lips just a breath away from the sensitive shell of my ear. “It’s about the mirrors.”
A shiver ran through me that I couldn’t have stopped if I had tried. His fingers ran up my arms, creating goosebumps.
“Put the robe and thigh highs on,” he whispered this time. His breath tickled my ear and made me want to simultaneously giggle and moan. The juxtaposing feelings he gave me were heady and aggravating, and this needy fullness grew in the pit of my core.
I nodded twice before I moved away from him. I didn’t make it two steps before his hands grabbed my arms and moved me back in front of him.
“I didn’t say leave,” he purred. I balk at him through the mirror, and he just looked at me with a devilish smirk and handed me the items. He’d brought them in with the chaise, it seemed.
“You want me to change —” I began, but he cut me off.
“Don’t think about it. Just do it,” he goaded. I barely concealed the need to roll my eyes at the arrogant prick. I definitely ignored the way his arrogance turned me on in these moments. There is something about it that made me want to punch him and open my legs for him all at the same time.
“Unless you’re too scared,” he added after my momentary pause. Scared? Oh, hell no. With my jaw set and my eyes narrowed at him through the mirror, I silently told him to go fuck himself. He wants a show; he’d get a show.
I spun around to face him, placing my hands on his shoulders and pressed down. He quirked his eyebrows and sat quickly. I pulled the shirt from my body, only slightly awkwardly, and began to take my clothes off in front of him.
