5. Chapter 5 Coconut Temptations
Dylan: October
Ripping out drywall is satisfying, like tearing through all my unwanted thoughts.
Tossing a chunk aside, I look up—and Jenna walks in.
Tight black spandex. Tank top clinging to her chest. A ponytail I want to tug on.
My cock twitches. The past few weeks, I’ve become an expert at stealing glances when I think no one’s looking.
I watch her laugh. Watch her help everyone around her. Watch her… exist.
Jesus, I sound like an idiot.
Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Morning. Did you see they opened a new gym next door?” she says, shaking her protein bottle. “I can squeeze in a workout on my lun—”
Before she finishes, the bottle bursts, spraying milky cream all over her face that slowly drips down her chest. I bite back a laugh, trying not to imagine that cream being mine, but it’s damn near impossible.
“Fuck, let me help!” Shit, she’s a beautiful disaster… and I can’t seem to look away. Grabbing some napkins, I step closer, gently patting her face and neck. “Do you always end your workouts with a protein shake on your face?” I tease, unable to resist.
“Oh my God,” she whimpers. “Yes, most liquids end up on me rather than inside me.”
My smile widens, and I pause. But all I want to do is lick that damn liquid off every inch of her skin. “Hey, I’m not complaining. You pull off the look.”
Her cheeks flush as she stammers. “Oh no. That’s not what I meant. I just. I’m always spilling my drinks. Or food, or bananas like when we first met.”
“How could I forget? You’ve got a talent for surprising moments,” I say, handing her one last napkin. “Though I’m not sure you can top this one. Definitely made my day.” Being around her makes my day.
Jenna blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’m glad my clumsiness entertains you. I better go clean up and start setting up for the office Halloween party.”
“A Halloween party this early in October?” I clear my throat, raising an eyebrow.
“With an event planning company, it’s Halloween all month.” She flashes a soft smile. “And between all our clients’ events, HR decided to throw the party now before the schedule got too crazy.”
“That explains it. A couple of your coworkers asked me and a few of my guys to stop by for free drinks after all the work we’ve been doing here.”
Her gaze meets mine. “Let me guess. Was it April? She loves making friends with any man who sets foot in this building. It’ll be fun," she says, her eyes lighting up. "I love Halloween and dressing up.”
“Yes, it was April.” I pause, holding back a smile. “And Amelia.”
What’s with all these women whose names start with A? No wonder I can’t keep track.
As Jenna walks away, her presence clings to me—along with an image of her dressed in a naughty nurse outfit, dripping with my protein shake.
Fuck.
How does her clumsiness turn me on? But it’s more than that.
She’s sexy in a way she doesn’t even realize.
It makes her even more tempting. She lights up a room without trying.
And maybe I’m wrong, but she seems to be the kind of person who sees the good in people—even when they don’t deserve it.
I’ve only caught glimpses, but it’s enough to make my goddamn head spin.
This is hands down the coolest Halloween party I’ve ever been invited to. But then again, it’s thrown by an event planning company, so I should have expected it.
Bartenders in vampire costumes serve blood-red cocktails from a glowing bar. There’s a bubbling cauldron of punch, a coffin full of food, and skeletons crawling out of it. Even a fog machine on the dance floor, with a live band playing Halloween pop hits.
I duck into a quieter spot near the back bar and pull out my phone to call Amber, my late-night date. “Hey, I have to work late. Can we reschedule?” A lie. I'm already bored with her. Girls who throw themselves at me without a second thought never hold my interest.
As I pocket my phone, I notice Jenna.
Coconut bra. Leafy skirt. Flowers threaded through her hair. Why the hell do I keep staring at her like she’s the only person in this crowded room? Maybe because she looks like a Hawaiian hula goddess straight out of a wet forbidden dream.
She locks eyes with me. “Do you always lie to your girlfriend about your nightly activities?”
“I never lie.” I lean against the wall, dodging her question.
“Unless it’s my sister asking if I love her outfit—then I say anything to keep the peace.
” My gaze flicks over her before I can stop myself.
Jesus Christ, she’s stunning. “And you? Are you planning to break hearts in this little costume?”
She arches an eyebrow, noticing my costume-less self as she avoids my inappropriate comment.
“A lie is a lie.” Her voice is sharp but playful. “Where’s your costume? Did you miss the memo?”
I smirk, spreading my arms wide. “I’m a sexy, brooding guy who doesn’t believe in costumes. Pretty convincing, huh?” I glance at her top. “Though I was hoping you’d lend me one of your coconuts so I could join you in… Hawaii?”
She rolls her eyes. “More like party pooper. And for the record, I wasn’t planning to show up like this. My single and much sexier friend Izzy lent me this after a wardrobe malfunction with my original costume.”
I tilt my head, genuinely curious. “Oh really? And what was that?”
“I was supposed to be a pumpkin,” she mumbles, as she grabs a bottle of water from the bartender. I would have loved to see that.
She takes a sip and suddenly jerks back as it splashes in her eye. “Shit!” she murmurs, wiping it away. “How do women enjoy this in those raunchy scenes? They have to be faking it, right? No one actually enjoys getting stuff in their face.”
I choke on my drink, laughing. “Wait—what kind of movies are we talking about here?”
“Oh my God!” she cries out, her cheeks turning a cute shade of pink. “That’s not—I meant… you don’t mess with mascara, okay? It’s sacred. Nothing should go in your eyes or your face. Ever.”
“Okay,” I smile, leaning in. “Do I make you nervous? Is it my hazel eyes or the fact that I tower over you?”
She fidgets, tearing the label from her water bottle. “I swear I don’t normally ramble like this. Or at least not with anyone else. Clearly, I’ve spent too much time with Izzy, and she’s starting to rub off on me.”
“For what it’s worth,” I say, trying to ease back off the teasing. “I’m with you on the mascara thing. Would be a shame to mess up those pretty lashes. Even if it was with my…” I pause, biting my tongue. “You know. Hypothetically.”
I think I’m making her uncomfortable. Suddenly, she steps back—and face plants. Drinks on the floor. Legs in the air. And…
Rip.
The sound of coconuts cracking against tile barely registers before she freezes, looking mortified. Jenna gasps, sitting back up. Her hands fly to her chest, covering the best damn breasts I’ve ever seen.
Without thinking, I step in front of her, blocking the view from the gawking crowd.
Right now, I’m the only thing standing between her and full exposure.
My hands hover awkwardly, unsure if I’m helping or just making it worse.
I lean down to help her up, holding her against me to hide the fact that she’s topless.
“Oh… my… God,” she groans. “Did my coconuts just turn into oranges?” Her gaze drops to her hands, still wrapped around her chest.
Biting back a laugh, I shrug off my button-down shirt and hand it to her. Thankfully, I’ve got a T-shirt underneath. She clutches it, covering herself. “Thanks,” she mutters.
A few guys behind me groan in disappointment as I guide her to the hallway outside.
“Does this mean I get to borrow your coconuts after all?” I ask, grinning.
She pulls my shirt on, tying it at her waist. Somehow, it looks a hell of a lot sexier on her. “Someone up there really doesn’t like me,” she mumbles. “I swear, I’m cursed—or jinxed. Stuff like this always happens to me.”
“That’s impossible.” I grin, unable to stop myself. “I bet everyone likes you. Though, for the record, your coworkers definitely enjoyed the free show with your… uh… oranges.”
She shoots me a glare, but there’s a spark of amusement in her eyes as she swats my arm. “You know what would help me feel less mortified? You wearing my costume instead.”
“Deal.” I nod without hesitation. I’d do a lot more than that for her, though I keep that particular thought to myself.
We barely make it through the doorway back into the main party room when a woman bursts into view.
She’s wobbling slightly, balancing a tray of drinks, dressed as an angel, but there’s nothing innocent about her costume.
She’s blonde, petite, curvy, and radiates the kind of energy that turns a boring Monday into a wild party.
And I’ve had my fair share of fun with women like this.
“Jenna! These are yours. Coconut Margaritas on the house.” She smirks. “Pretty sure the bartender scored front row seats to your little show earlier,” she adds with a wink.
Her gaze trails over me slowly as she passes by, and I can feel her undressing me with her eyes. Normally, I welcome this kind of attention. The easy distractions. But lately? It feels… empty.
She struts back toward the bar near the entrance, and we follow her down the room.
“Izzy, you know Dylan, right? One of the contractors fixing the office,” Jenna says quickly, her voice pulling my focus back to her. “He was nice enough to lend me his shirt, because well, you know why. I’m sure everyone knows why by now.”
Izzy grins, setting the tray down on the bar ledge. “Oh, I know who Dylan is. Half the women in the building know who Dylan is. Word is, you’re very good with your hands.”
Jenna groans, covering her face. “Subtle, Izzy. Real subtle.”
I laugh, caught between amused and uncomfortable. “I mean… they’re not wrong,” I say, deflecting.