Chapter 10 #4
Hassan leaned back in his chair, inhaling deep from the blunt, eyes locked onto her like he was dissecting her every move. “What you doing here, Sevyn?” His voice was calm, smooth, but there was an edge to it—one that sent a shiver down her spine.
Sevyn held up his jacket like it was some kind of offering. “I came to give you this,” she said, her voice softer than she intended.
Hassan scoffed, shaking his head. “You love playing with me, huh?” His tone was cold, but his eyes—those damn blue eyes—held something else. Something unreadable.
Sevyn took a deep breath and moved toward the chair across from his desk, ready to sit, but the second she started lowering herself, her body shot back up like she’d touched fire. Her eyes darted around the room in horror. “Did y’all fuck right there?”
A deep, rich chuckle rumbled from Hassan’s chest, and the sound alone did something to her insides. “I fucked her everywhere.” His voice was low, thick with confidence.
And god help her, but that did something to her too.
She cleared her throat, trying to shake the heat crawling up her neck. “I’ll just stand, then.” She murmured, shifting awkwardly.
Hassan only shrugged, taking another pull from the blunt like he had all the time in the world. Meanwhile, Sevyn clutched his jacket in her hands, gripping it so tight she could feel her nails digging into the fabric. Anything to keep herself grounded around him.
“I… I apologize.” Her voice wavered slightly, and she hated it.
Hassan exhaled a slow stream of smoke, looking at her through the haze. “What you apologizing for?”
Sevyn rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to make this easy, and she should’ve known that. “For blowing up on you like that. I let my emotions get the best of me, and you didn’t deserve that.”
Hassan didn’t say a word. Just watched her. Smoked. Waited.
Sevyn sighed. “Braxton did hurt me.” The second the words left her lips, Hassan’s entire body shifted. His jaw clenched, shoulders going rigid, and when his eyes met hers again, they were lethal.
She quickly spoke again, shaking her head. “Not in the way you’re thinking. ”
That didn’t ease the tension in him. If anything, it made it worse. His nostrils flared slightly, the grip on his blunt tightening. He didn’t say a word, but Sevyn could feel it—the quiet, simmering rage building beneath his skin.
A part of her wanted to smile at how protective he was, even when he didn’t even know the full story. Even when he wasn’t hers to protect. But another part of her? Knew that whoever hurt her—if Hassan had his way—they wouldn’t be breathing much longer.
“He cheated on me.” Sevyn’s voice was even, controlled, but the weight of those words still lingered in the air between them. Hassan held her gaze, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his body never eased.
“He was the only man I ever loved outside of my father,” she let out a slow breath, feeling exposed but determined to say what needed to be said. “I’m not fully healed from it, so when you brought him up, I snapped.”
Hassan stayed silent, his eyes locked on hers, listening, absorbing, but offering nothing in return. She almost wished he would say something—anything—but she knew better than to expect that from him.
She sighed, shaking her head slightly. “You were right. It’s hypocritical of me to push you to open up when I don’t even do it myself. I guess I was just caught off guard that you even cared—”
“I don’t.”
His voice was sharp, cutting through her sentence like a blade.
Sevyn exhaled through her nose, rolling her eyes. Liar. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have asked about Braxton, wouldn’t have blocked her from talking to him at the party, wouldn’t have reacted the way he did when she walked in here tonight.
But she didn’t call him out on it. She just nodded, keeping her expression unreadable. “Here’s your jacket.” Her tone was clipped, but that twinge of jealousy slipped out at the end, and she knew he caught it the second a slow smirk tugged at his lips.
“Sorry for interrupting your… meeting.”
She draped his jacket over the back of the chair and turned to leave, ignoring the heat of his stare following her every move.
Sevyn turned toward the door, gripping the handle, but before she could twist it, Hassan’s voice cut through the air like a command wrapped in silk.
“Sevyn… come here.”
His tone was calm, almost gentle, but there was an unspoken expectation beneath it that made her pause. She inhaled deeply before turning around, walking back to his desk, careful not to touch anything, knowing exactly what had transpired in this office before she ar rived.
“He a green ass nigga. That nigga don’t deserve the hurt you walkin’ around with.”
His words wrapped around her like warmth on a cold night, but they didn’t erase the weight of what she carried. Letting go of betrayal like that wasn’t as easy as saying it out loud. She just nodded, not trusting her voice.
"I thought you didn’t care,” Sevyn said with a sly smile tugging at her lips, watching him closely.
“Hit this.” He held out the blunt, his dark eyes locked onto hers. She shook her head. “No, I really need to head home. Long day.”
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.”
Sevyn nodded, her mind piecing things together. Weed and sex. 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. “We not in one of your sessions, Sevyn. Just enjoy the blunt, 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.