Chapter 7
SEVEN
MINDY
The office door closes behind us.
I’m not sure if it makes a sound. My heart is thundering in my ears so loudly, it was even drowning out the music playing in the bar.
Everything else disappears but the desire pulsing between us. There’s only Jesse. Me. The short breaths we keep taking as we stare at each other.
His blue eyes are shining, like the sun reflecting on a deep lake on a windy day. They’re pulling me further and further under his spell. I could drown in them if I’m not careful.
I’m tired of being careful.
I’m tired of always trying to do what’s expected of me.
I want to do what feels right.
I want to be swept under his current.
Jesse slides his teeth over his bottom lip and takes a step toward me. “Doing okay?”
I nod, releasing a shaky breath and silencing the last murmur of good girls don’t have sex with a man on they just met echoing in my head.
I take a step closer to him, so the tip of my tennis shoes are nearly touching his boots. “I could be better.”
His dark brows shoot up. “You could?”
“Yep.” I rest my palms on his chest, marveling at the heat and power seemingly radiating off of him.
His gaze flickers to my lips. I part them instinctively. He raises his hot stare back to mine.
“How so?” he asks.
“I’d be better if you kissed me.”
A slow smirk spreads across his face. “Would you now?”
“Sure would.” I grin back. “Especially if you pushed my back against the door and did it. Because never have I ever…”
His brow furrows. “No one has ever pushed you against a door to kiss you?”
“I’ve lived a pretty ordinary life.”
“No you haven’t.” He rests his rough hands on my hips and inches me backward toward the door. “Baby, nothing about you is ordinary. You’ve just been hanging out with the wrong people.”
Before I can argue, my back hits the door, his chest presses against me, and his mouth crashes against mine.
He catches my breath with his kisses—hot and searing, practically branding me with their intensity.
My nipples pucker and tighten with the delicious friction created between our bodies. They wait in anticipation as one of his hands slides up and down my side, coming closer and closer to what they crave.
I don’t wait long. He cups my breast, palming it gently, sliding his thumb over the nipple sticking out through the layers of cotton jacket and sports bra.
I may not have dressed sexy for this date. But I’ve never felt more desirable or desired.
And I’ve never wanted anything—or anyone—more.
Pressing myself into his touch, I let my own hands explore his body. I push the jacket off of his shoulders, forcing his hand away from my body for just a moment so it can pool at his feet. My fingers dig into the muscles bunched on his back. They slide over his hard pecs.
They clutch the thick hair on his head. All the while, I kiss him as if my whole life depends on it.
It’s soon too much. I pull back to catch my breath, but Jesse continues working his magic. His beard scrapes against the side of my cheek and neck as he trails more hot kisses down my neck.
“Well?” he says between kisses. “What do you think of this new experience?”
He pushes his hips against mine. I can feel his hard cock nestle against my belly.
“Worth the hype,” I get out between gasps.
I can feel his grin against me as he suckles my neck. “What else have you never done?”
I shake my head as our hips move against each other, stoking the heat building in my core.
“No,” I press my lips to his neck. “It’s your turn.”
“My turn?” he hisses as I give a light suckle.
“Never have you ever…” I prompt.
“Never have I ever…” he gives a light chuckle as I find a ticklish spot behind his ear. “Never have I ever gotten hickey.”
My lips freeze. Now it’s my turn to gape. “Really?”
“Look, maybe it’s more popular in Kansas than Nevada. But no, never have I ever.”
“Well.” I open my mouth against his neck and begin my work. “Let’s change that.”
Within minutes, he’s the one pulling my mouth back to his urgently, leaving a red mark in his wake.
More and more layers of clothing disappear as we whisper “never have I evers” that are more like dares.
“Never have I ever given a man head while he was sitting in his office chair.”
“Never have I ever eaten a woman out on my desk.”
“Never have I ever come twice in one hook-up.”
All leading to the moment when we’re both gloriously naked, and I’m laid out over his desk.
Jesse feasts his hungry gaze on me as he steps between my thighs. He pumps his throbbing condom-covered cock. He rubs the head of it over my slick slit. My toes are practically curling.
“Never,” he whispers huskily, “have I ever,” he lines himself at my entrance, “wanted someone as badly as I want you.”
“Prove it.”
The words are barely out of my lips as he thrusts inside of me with one hard push. I suck in a breath as he holds still, giving my body time to adjust to his size.
He leans forward to kiss me, strong and sweet this time. When I lift my hips up against him, he takes the silent hint to move inside me.
As I start to come for a third time, the thought that runs through my head is “never have I ever had my world rocked so hard.”
Later, after we’ve both slipped our clothes back on and exchanged a few more kisses, Jesse rests his forehead against mine.
“Doing okay?” he asks, his hands still at my waist like he isn’t ready to let go yet.
“Fine,” I say a little too quickly. Still somewhat shocked—but equally delighted—by the turn of events. “I just… need to run to the restroom.”
He nods, seeming to understand my need for a moment to myself.
“Sure. I should check on the bar,” he says, voice rough.
My lips are tingling. I feel dazed in the best way.
“And I should… fix my face,” I admit.
His mouth curves. “Your face is perfect.”
“Smooth-talker.”
“Only for you.”
I laugh softly, and he kisses me once more, a quick, possessive brush that makes my knees wobble.
Then he opens the door and slips out, leaving me in the office with my heartbeat and the faint echo of music through the walls.
My knees are finally stopping their shaking as I step into the bathroom.
I splash cool water on my wrists, then my cheeks. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and stare at myself in the mirror like I’m trying to make sure I’m still me.
My lips are swollen.
My eyes are bright.
I look good and truly satisfied. Which makes sense. I was just thoroughly fucked by the sexiest man I’ve ever known.
I turn my face from side to side, looking for any other hints of what just happened. Unlike Jesse, I don’t have a large, red mark on my neck. But I still look… different. Pleased.
I look so damn happy, I could cry.
A stall door clicks open behind me, distracting me from my study.
I glance up and see a young woman step out.
Early twenties, maybe. Cute outfit that looks carefully chosen, but her expression doesn’t match it.
Her shoulders are tense. Her gaze darts around like she’s searching for exits.
She goes straight to the sink, washing her hands with quick, jittery movements.
I offer her a small smile. “Hey.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Hey.”
I can tell she wants to say something and doesn’t know how.
I dry my hands slowly, giving her space.
Finally, she blurts, “Can I ask you a weird question?”
“Sure,” I say gently.
Her eyes flick to the door again. “Do you… do you know the bartender here?”
I think of Jesse. Of Lou. Of Marcy. “Yeah. Why?”
She swallows. “There’s a guy out there who won’t leave me alone.”
My stomach drops.
“I told him no.” Her voice wobbles, anger and fear twisted together. “Like… clearly. More than once. He just keeps hovering. Keeps ‘joking.’ Keeps touching my arm like I owe him a conversation.”
Heat flares in my chest. Protective, immediate.
“That’s not okay,” I say firmly.
“I know.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I tried to move tables. I tried to go to the other side of the bar. He followed me. I came in here because I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing,” I say. “Is he alone?”
“I think so.” She chews her lip. “He’s kind of… loud. Dark jacket. Slick hair. Keeps acting like he’s the funniest guy in the room.”
I nod, already picturing him.
“I’m going to handle it,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” I reply. “But listen to me. You don’t owe him politeness. Not even a little.”
She swallows hard. “He keeps calling me dramatic.”
“That’s what they do when they don’t like boundaries,” I say. “Stay in here for a minute. Or call someone if you want. But you’re not alone.”
She nods quickly, relief washing over her face.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I squeeze her shoulder gently before turning toward the door.
The bar feels louder when I walk back in.
Not because the volume changed, but because I’m suddenly aware of everything—every laugh, every shout, every moving body. I scan the crowd with purpose, spotting the guy within seconds.
He’s near the bar, leaning too close to a woman who’s turned slightly away from him, her smile tight and uncomfortable. He’s talking with animated hands, as if he’s performing. His posture screams entitlement.
My jaw tightens.
I walk straight up.
“Hey,” I say, calm but firm. “She said no.”
He turns, eyes flicking over me like he’s deciding what kind of problem I am. “Did she now?”
“Yes.”
He laughs. “You her mom?”
“No,” I say. “I’m someone who heard her.”
He scoffs. “She’s fine. We’re just talking.”
“She’s not fine,” I reply. “And she’s not talking. You are.”
His smile turns sharp. “Who asked you?”
“I’m asking you now,” I say evenly. “Back off.”
He leans closer, too close, breath sour with alcohol. “Why don’t you mind your business?”
“This is my business when someone’s being harassed.”
He reaches out, fingers brushing my arm like it’s nothing, like I’m an object in his orbit.
I step back sharply. “Don’t touch me.”
His eyes narrow. “Oh, we’ve got a feisty one.”
I glance past him, seeing the woman slip away. Good. At least that worked.
But now his attention is fully on me.
He smirks. “You here alone, sweetheart?”
“No.”
The word lands with quiet certainty.
His gaze flicks over my shoulder, searching. “Boyfriend?”
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t need to label Jesse to deserve respect.
The guy laughs. “Sure.”
Then his hand shoots toward my waist.
Too familiar. Too fast.
I slap it away. “No.”
That’s when I feel it—the shift behind me.
Jesse has noticed.
I don’t even have to turn. I can sense it in the air, like a current changing direction.
Jesse steps up beside me, his presence steady and calm, but his eyes are hard.
“Problem?” Jesse asks.
The guy straightens, puffing up. “Just talking.”
Jesse’s voice stays even. “You were told to stop.”
“Oh, look,” the guy sneers. “Bar owner playing hero.”
Jesse doesn’t bite.
“Leave,” he says simply.
The guy laughs louder, feeding on attention. “Or what?”
Jesse’s jaw flexes. “Or you get escorted out.”
“By you?” The guy scoffs. “What are you gonna do? Throw your little cowboy hat at me?”
Jesse’s hands remain relaxed at his sides. Controlled.
I glance at him, and something in my chest warms. Not possessiveness. Not dominance.
Protection.
The guy takes a step closer to me, eyes ugly with it. “Maybe I should teach you some manners—”
His hand reaches again.
This time toward my chest.
I jerk back, adrenaline flooding my body.
Jesse catches his wrist midair, grip iron.
“Don’t,” Jesse says, voice low.
The guy tries to yank free. “Let go!”
“You touched her,” Jesse replies, still controlled, but the calm is cracking now. “You don’t get to do that.”
The guy jerks again, then swings.
His fist connects with Jesse’s shoulder.
Time slows.
Jesse’s restraint snaps like a rope pulled too tight.
He swings back.
The sound of impact is sharp. Immediate chaos erupts—chairs scraping, people shouting, someone yelling for security, drinks sloshing.
I stumble back, heart hammering.
And the thought flashes through my mind, bright and breathless and absurd even in the moment.
Never have I ever been in a bar brawl.