Mosaic Moon

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Jesse knew he probably wouldn’t hate Ethan so much if he hadn’t become Emma’s favorite topic of conversation. As long as he didn’t have to talk about, think about, or spend time with the other man, he was entirely indifferent. Jesse was not inclined to hate people who weren’t actively evil, or hold grudges. He had seen too much ugliness in the world to expend energy on such petty emotions, but he really did not like Emma’s friend…boyfriend.

The morning would have been great, except Emma was still on some sort of emotional high from her date the night before. They had spent hours at the club, and she had had fun. Not only that, but she hadn’t absorbed emotions from anybody else. She even danced. Jesse was happy for her, he was. But he couldn’t help but be annoyed that she was so happy because of Ethan. When was the last time he had made her smile like that?

By the time she left to meet Ethan for lunch, Jesse’s nerves were frazzled. His first instinct was to go to Gideon, but he was busy with actual work. Actual work that Jesse needed to help with, but he couldn’t concentrate for longer than ten seconds because his mind kept slipping to Emma, and Ethan, and dancing, and what happened after the dancing.

Jesse didn’t know if they were sleeping together. Gideon probably knew for sure, thanks to his super senses, but Jesse didn’t want to know if Emma smelled like Ethan. And he certainly didn’t want to know if Ethan smelled like Emma. He tried not to think about it at all. Occasionally, he would flash on an image of the two of them, but it made his stomach roll, and he dismissed it as quickly as he could.

Jess went directly downstairs, to the bathroom. If he was going to get anything done that afternoon, he needed an outlet. Gideon couldn’t help him with that, but Jesse knew he could help himself. He undressed as soon as he was safely downstairs, shedding clothes on his way to the shower. He didn’t have a lot of time, and he wasn’t feeling particularly creative, so he let his mind drift to a common fantasy.

His first real fantasy of Emma. It was still his favorite.

Hot water pounded on his shoulders, and he poured a healthy dose of soap into his palm to spread over his erect c**k. He gripped his shaft and closed his eyes, wishing his hand belonged to somebody else. With a soft sigh, he imagined it was six months earlier, when Emma had kissed him, and two doors had opened. The first door was safe. It was the right decision. Even now, he couldn’t say he regretted it.

But the second option…the second option was something he could never quite let go. It was never a true option. It never could be. But his imagination went back to it again and again.