License to Cuddle

1

—"Are you trying to please me?"

≣

There was only one reasonable explanation as to why Jeon Jungkook was currently staring at another guy's ass — because he was fucking exhausted.

He was dead tired. Bone weary. Barely standing on his feet. And apparently, the only thing keeping him from falling asleep at this crowded and dimly lit bar was an invitingly plump ass.

An ass that belonged to a dude.

Now, Jungkook was well aware of how this looked. It looked like he was nothing but a player eyeing his next meaningless hookup. It looked like he was interested in getting up close and personal.

But he was neither of those things.

No . . . If someone were to call him a player, he'd have to question their sanity. Because not only had he never juggled multiple people at once, but he'd also never understood the fascination of sleeping around. What was the thrill of using another for their body? Of being used in return? And while Jungkook wouldn't call himself a hopeless romantic — he leaned more towards the realist side — he wanted someone to look at him like he meant something. He wanted to be more than just a nameless face.

Beyond that, Jungkook also wasn't interested; he had no intentions of sauntering up to the owner of that ass and introducing himself. Don't get him wrong, he was confident enough to admit when he found a guy attractive, but he never had the real desire of being with a man. Even if he once made out with his buff college roommate during a drunken game of truth or dare, that didn't mean he craved a repeat experience. Sure, it was nice — pleasant, even — but it wasn't anything to write home about.

So why exactly did Jungkook find himself in this predicament? Why did his poor, frazzled mind think it would be a good idea to space out as soon as some guy's ass was in his line of vision? And maybe even more importantly, why couldn't he bring himself to look away?

Fuck, he didn't know. He must be more tired than he thought.

And the sad thing? Even though it was past nine on a Tuesday evening, Jungkook wasn't done working for the day. Nope, not him. As soon as he finished the glass of red wine he twiddled between his fingers, he'd have to head home for yet another late night. His boss had given him a project right as he was leaving the office, smiling as she demanded the results by eight the next morning.

Oh, the joys of working for a major corporation.

But — and this was something Jungkook repeated so often that it'd become his personal mantra — he really shouldn't complain. He had only been promoted six months ago and still needed to prove himself. And besides, he had known this new job wouldn't be easy. He had expected an exceptional amount of hard work. And yet . . .

Jungkook had been a bit naive.

He'd been out of university for just short of a year, working at the same company but in a small Busan field office, when he received the promotion. The dream promotion, as his former manager had put it. The new gig had come with a higher salary and more strategic projects, as well as the need to move out of his parents' house and relocate to Seoul.

To the then twenty-three-year-old Jungkook, that had sounded a hell of a lot like freedom. It had sounded like he'd live a life of affluence, glamour, and sex. And what kid fresh out of college wouldn't want more cash than he'd know what to do with, access to the most exclusive of parties, and a number of beautiful people vying for his attention?

Everyone would want that. He had wanted that.

So with that seductive picture clouding his mind, Jungkook had packed his bags and said yes to the so-called opportunity of a lifetime: