𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃

12 | harder.

Sam leads me to his bedroom and I clutch my bag. He opens the door for me and gestures inside with a tilt of his head. I can see Jimin sitting on the massage bed in the middle of Sam's room, his back facing me as I notice a pink mark that descends on his shoulder blade. His creamy skin looks so smooth and soft and there's only one imperfection. I wonder how he got that scar as I enter the room. I find myself staring at his lean figure, he's only a tad taller than me-I bet if I wore heels I would surpass his height. The slightest bumps form where his spine is located. He's slouching and that results in the tiniest shadows to appear right under every protruding bone. If he changed his posture by straightening his back, his thoracic spine wouldn't be as pronounced.

Sam shuts the door and that causes Jimin's neck to turn a little. His gleaming eyes widen a little when he sees me and that causes him to get off the massage bed and onto his feet. I'm still staring at him speechless, my eyes traveling to his bare chest. His body is fit and I am flabbergasted because he doesn't show off his muscular body like he probably should. He usually wears oversized jackets and hoodies-how should I know that he's hiding this treasure underneath all those layers?

This man has it all. A six pack, thick muscular thighs, the Adonis V that makes me weak in the knees and the way his towel is loosely hanging around his hips consealing the goods-what the holy hell am I even thinking right now?

"Nox?" He says, clearly shocked to see me here. That means he doesn't think I was following him all the way here like a crazy stalker.

I smile thinly. "Apartment Seven." I start. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I guess I could say the same." Jimin mumbles, his chocolate brown eyes looking at the floor. His plump lips inherit the pout he had earlier when I ignored his wave and that strikes me at my stomach. Silence prevails for what it seems to be only a few painfully uncomfortable seconds when I finally decide to take action.

"Did you drink a lot of water before you come here?" I inquire and he shakes his head. "Alright, but if you feel like you need to use the bathroom do it now because you're gonna be lying down for the next hour."

Jimin thinks to himself a little and I feel like banging my head against the wall. Seriously though, who needs to think whether they need to take a piss or not?

"I'll be back in a minute." Jimin says quickly and practically storms into the bathroom clutching the white towel with one hand.

"Even if you're late Sam is the one paying, so feel free to take your time."

When he finally does his business, the door opens and he steps out holding his towel with both hands this time. I almost get a little peak of his sculpted ass but I don't look away because the view is truly amazing.

Damn this boi is thick, I think to myself. Jimin's innocent eyes find mine and I avert my glance. I'm expecting some sort of shit-eating grin or some slimy comeback but none of them happens. Instead, Jimin remains silent while he tries to adjust the towel around his hips. He's struggling to keep it intact and I've had enough of this. I'm not the best when it comes to patience so I walk over at him and take matters in my own hands. I help him tuck the fabric and at the same time I get a feel of his velvety skin. His belly feels rock hard against my fingers and I can literally feel the line of his Adonis V as my hand goes dangerously low.

Jimin stares at me with eyes, wide like golf balls and I shake my head.

"I'm sorry." I blurt. Wait, what am I sorry for exactly? I only helped him fix his towel.

"It's okay," he mumbles. I'm not earning any extra points with this attitude. My client is uncomfortable to the bone. His checks are flaring up, the blush only looks like a rash that spreads all the way to his neck and mid-shoulders. I really need to work on my patience and the way I approach others.