CHAPTER 1 – When Jazz met Zeke

Jazz’s POV

Okay, first thing you need to know about me? My life is falling apart.

Not only am I on the verge of being evicted from the apartment I used to share with my boyfriend, Kev, because he ran off with his co-worker sticking me with all the bills….. and my fucked-up addict sister, Summer, has decided to move in with me…

…but I’m pretty sure my supervisor, Mr. Green, is going to fire me if I don’t sleep with him soon. The jerk won’t stop harassing me.

He is standing right behind me now, sniffing my neck shamelessly.

Middle-aged, fat, ugly, the man’s having some sort of mid-life crisis since his divorce and for some reason, he thinks pestering me to sleep with him will fill the giant-sized hole that his ex-wife left inside him.

Normally, I would entertain him. Maybe flirt a little. Maybe let him touch up on me a little to keep my job.

But today has absolutely been shit to me and I’m really not in the mood to be sexually assaulted.

“Mr. Green, I’m trying to work here,” I mumble. My voice is uncharacteristically cold and steely.

I meant to scare him off. Instead, my coldness makes his dick harder.

“Oh yeah? What’d you say we break off work? Use the restroom? I bet I can make you come faster than your boyfriend ever could,” he teases, pressing his wet lips against the back of my neck.

His saliva drips against my skin, sending pure disgust down my spine.

That’s it. I don’t care if I get fired.

I shove him hard. “In your dreams, asshole!”

He stumbles a little, his fat ass nearly falling. “Come on, Jazz, I know you want me. I see the looks you give me, those skimpy dresses you wear…I know you want this.”

“I’m warning you, sir. I swear to God, I’m going to punch the hell out of you,” I warn him furiously.

This is the last thing I want to deal with right now. I still have to figure out a way to get my rent before the day ends or my sister and I are out on the street. I don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with this asshole.

He grins. “Feisty, I love it."

Fuck, I cuss under my breath, looking around. The store is almost empty. The few shoppers moving between the aisles are too busy with their shopping to notice this asshole harassing me. My co-workers are on their lunch break.

Once again, I’m left alone to defend myself. Like always!

“Stay away from me, sir,” I warn again, swinging a fist in the air. It does very little to deter him.

He stalks towards me like a predator. I back away; he pursues me.

I keep backing away until there’s no more room to escape to. He closes the distance between us, lunging for me.

Without thinking, I kick out a leg, catching him in between his legs. I hit his groin, my foot connecting with his balls.

He lets out a suppressed scream, grabbing his dick area.

“Fucking bitch!” he lets out, mad now.

I bolt towards the back of the store, making for the exit door. He chases behind me. For his weight, he is surprisingly fast.

Next thing I know, he is yanking my hair and drawing me back. I let out a scream as he shoves me against the wall, pressing his entire body against me, choking me.

I am stuck. It dawns on me slowly, horrifically: I am literally stuck between this jerk and freedom. I can see the exit door but I can’t reach it. Story of my fucking life!

He brings his face close to mine. I can smell his greasy sweat. “You think you are too good for me, huh?”

“Let go of me!” I whisper in between gasping breaths.

“Or what?” Mr. Green retorts. I know I’m in real trouble here.

“Or I’m gonna pound your face into that wall,” a strange dusky voice fills the air all of a sudden.

Wait, what? Who is that? Where’d he even come from?

From my position, I can’t see him clearly, but I could hear footsteps approaching the hallway. Heavy footsteps thudding against the floor.

They sound confident like they belong to someone who knows their place in the world: someone unafraid, fierce, dangerous.

From the corner of my eyes, I see a tall figure towering in the near distance.

Mr. Green is distracted for a split second. I take the chance to break out of his grasp.

Free at last, my eyes land on the stranger.

The whole world stops. My heart beat accelerates. Blood rushes in my ears, drumming fast, hard, as I take him in slowly:

He is wearing a well-tailored, expensive suit that clings to his body, accentuating every inch of his gorgeous body: his rippling muscles, flexing biceps, broad shoulders, thick arms.

He had his hands tucked into his pockets, laid back.

He is older, probably in his thirties, tall, looming all over us, and heavily-bearded.

But it’s his eyes that paralyze me. Intense, gray, deadly, they regard me curiously.

The attraction is instant, inescapable. I feel an electric jolt when our eyes meet. It spreads down my spine, sending warm heat to the pit of my belly.

Goosebumps sweep across my arms. My legs tremble a little. I feel swept away in the chemistry bubbling between us. It’s like falling under a spell. His spell.

He ignores Mr. Green completely like he’s the least interesting person here. He remains fixated on me. Slowly, he takes me in.

I feel those eyes washing over me, stripping me naked. From my hair, face, down to my lips, collarbone, chest, breasts, belly, and lower…and lower.

I stand there, feeling like a slab of meat on display.

But the thing is…..I can’t walk away. It’s like he’s holding me captive.

Immediately, my mind is invaded with unholy images of him, of us: our bodies twisted in carnal pleasure.

I imagine those strong hands lifting me into the air, placing me across his face. I imagine those lips ravishing me.

A wild image of his dick crosses my mind: long, heavy, thick, throbbing. He’s certainly moving like it hangs heavy.

I want him drumming inside me till I’m numb, weak, helpless, crying out about how I can’t take it anymore.

I am nearly trembling at the thoughts. I feel a dampness between my thighs. Creamy white discharge spilling onto my panties.

What the fuck? Why am I so drawn to a total stranger?

“Hey, mind your business, pal,” Mr. Green says, pulling me back to reality.

The stranger does not budge an inch. He is unintimidated by my supervisor the way one would feel about a toothless dog.

Instead, he untucks his hands from his pockets. I nearly gasp at the beautiful crisscrossing of veins running along his large hands.

Each vein connects perfectly, seductively, on his arms too. His fingers are lithe, nails trimmed short.

What would they feel like inside me? I think to myself and immediately shut that down. Holy hell! What is happening to me?

Slowly, he unbuttons his suit jacket.

“I know your type. You’re the kind to pick on innocent, helpless little creatures to feel powerful. Let’s see what happens when you take on guys your own size,” he says, running his eyes up and down, appraising Mr. Green, he adds: “Or someone close to it anyway.”

He rolls his sleeves as he speaks.

Each movement is fluid. Every word that comes out of his mouth is aggravatingly hot. I stifle a gasp as soon as his jacket comes off.

His well-defined chest is visible through the white shirt underneath the jacket. His chest hairs beckon to me. His biceps flex as he moves. His pecs scream at me.

He stares with the precision of a sniper, his eyes locked on me like he’s found his ultimate target. There’s a clinical, methodical coldness to him.

That’s the scariest thing about him: his calm, cold, calculated demeanor that doesn’t betray fear at all, just confidence, strength, danger and an awareness that every room he steps into and everyone in it belongs to him.

I squirm under his penetrating gaze. Trust me, I’m not the kind of girl to lose my mind over a guy, any guy, but for some reason, I can’t even speak now.

He’s not just any guy. He’s something different.

My heart lurches with excitement. It’s a wonderful coincidence that he just happened to be here at the right time to intervene.

“I’m warning you one last time buddy….” Mr. Green starts to say.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do to me?” the stranger asks.

My blood heats up. His voice sounds like he could talk me through an orgasm, soothingly pulling me over the edge.

I am overwhelmed by an immediate desire to hear him whimpering my name in my ears as he nuts all over me.

“Get out of here,” Mr. Green barks.

With his jacket off, the hot stranger balls his fists. I notice the customized giant ring on his right hand with the letter Z as he storms up to Mr. Green and lands one punch on his nose.

The fat jerk is laid out flat. The floor rumbles as he collapses on his back, passing out.

As if on cue, the store’s overhead speakers start blasting Chase Atlantic’s ‘INTO IT’. The music curling around us like a cocoon.

I’m stunned into silence, lost in this cocoon with him.

But the stranger doesn’t even flinch. He merely stands over the passed-out body, rubbing his hand. “A weakling, just like I thought,” he says, stone cold, with a small flare of his nostrils.

My jaws drop, mouth hang agape. Fuck! He is terrifying. The kind of man who can knock out another grown man with one punch is exactly the kind of man I need to run away from but for some reason, I stay pinned there.

Equally intrigued, afraid and drawn to him.

I almost pass out when he struts over to me. Without hesitation, he cups my cheeks with both large, veiny hands, my face nearly disappearing into his palms.

His hands feel warm, possessive, protective. Close enough, I can smell him. His cologne wafts into my nostrils, weakening me.

He smells like sin and temptation and bad decisions.

He presses his face close to me, examining me with concern. His eyes had dilated softly.

“Hey, princess, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, voice softening.

Princess? I gotta get it together. This is not who I am. I’m not the type to lose control over a man.

I try to answer him but the words won’t come out. Not yet. So, I just shake my head.

He clasps me tighter, his fingers stroking and gently tracing my face. I literally can’t move. Not when he’s holding me like this.

His burning eyes follow the movements of his fingers and when they drop on my lips, I am comatose with need.

My eyes are practically begging him to kiss me.

He traces my lower lip, looking like he wants to devour me and I’d never wanted to be devoured as much as I did in this very moment.

My skin tingles in all the spots he’s touched.

I try to resist by shaking my head to clear my mind. I can’t let him know I’m drawn to him. I just can’t.

He flashes me a smile. “You did a pretty good job holding him off, princess. I’m proud of you.”

The magnetic pull grows stronger, deeper. I know right away, I’ve lost. I can’t resist him.

My legs are jelly at the thought of a stranger calling me ‘princess’ like I’m the only precious gem left on earth and telling me he’s proud of me.

My praise kink is activated instantly mixed with panic.

On one hand, that is fucking hot. And on the other hand, I am so fucking fired!

The only question lingering on my mind…...?

…. who the hell is this stranger?