A kiss to tell ( jenlisa ) (GIP)

Part 13

I was always hers to take. And that's exactly what I want. For her to be my first.

My breathing comes out shaky as I realize the clock is ticking down to that moment and I still haven't decided if I'm going to tell Lisa or not.

"Okay, let's just get out of here." Yeji hops down from her seat, letting it roll backward and carelessly slam into her desk as she slips her ridiculously high heels back on.

"Why do you even work here?" I feel the sarcastic question slip out before I can stop myself. I feel like half a bitch, but with the nerves of what I'm going to do tonight, I'm not as careful with my words as I should be.

Yeji pauses for a second and then laughs, loud and unrestrained. She shrugs, slipping on the first heel and then the second. "The perv wanted to hire me," she says and looks up at me as she continues, "and I had to pay my rent."

One point for honesty, I suppose. "Fair enough." I can't argue with that. Pushing on my thighs, I force myself to stand up and stack the piles, so I can get back to filing tomorrow and not lose my place. As I'm setting a generic glass paperweight on the stack, Yeji asks me if I want a ride.

My heart does a somersault, the weirdest movement as the jitters set through me. It's been like this on and off all day.

I'm going to go to Lisa.

Lisa Manoban is going to fuck me tonight. All the anxiety and nerves mix in the pit of my stomach. Maybe if I keep telling myself it's just sex, my heart will start believing it.

"I'm good; I'm going to walk." I think I do a good job at keeping the nerves out of my voice, but I have to stare at the stack instead of looking at her.

I can feel her eyes on me though, and when I peek up, looking as innocently as I can at the only woman I've ever met who owns her sexuality like she does, she asks, "You sure?"

That little place between her eyebrows is scrunched and I'm sure she can tell something's off, but I'm not telling her shit. Not. One. Word. I don't want advice; I don't want to hear stories. Worse, I don't want her to tell me the list of women Lisa's screwed. She has a habit of doing that whenever someone's name comes up. She's a walking encyclopedia of all things sexual and provocative.

"Yeah, I'm good," I tell her nonchalantly, and her expression tells me that she isn't buying any of it, but she doesn't ask again. She grips the doorway once, looking between the pile of papers I refuse to take my eyes from and then back up to my face.

"See you tomorrow then?" she asks and then adds, "You're not going to take another mini vacay, right?"

The smile she gets from me is genuine. "Your concern is adorable," I tell her and roll my eyes before adding, "but no, I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right, sweet cheeks," she says while tapping the doorway, "See you in the morning."

"Have a good night, Buttercup," I tell her and then scrunch my nose at Buttercup. I could have come up with something better, but the more I let it sit, the more I like it.

I listen to her heels as she walks out and then immediately grab my bag and head out the back, rather than the front. The stairwell is all concrete steps down the back, which is why no one ever leaves this way, but it heads to the north part of the city, where the butcher shop is.

My fingers feel sweaty as I pull my purse onto my shoulder, the nerves kicking into high gear.

Every step I get closer to her, I get more nervous about each detail.

I don't have sexy lingerie, but I can wait for her naked.

I didn't pack all of my makeup yesterday when she brought me back to her place, only my mascara, so that's all I have to work with.