Chapter FourEmmett
For a moment, all I can do is stare openmouthed at Jenna. Did she just say my sample? No way. A f*****g pee cup—is she insane?
I shouldn’t be pissed. She’s not exactly asking me for a hardship here. But orgasming into a cup isn’t what I want. She is, and right up until five seconds ago, I thought we were on the same page about this arrangement. I’ve been looking forward to taking this sexy firecracker of a woman to my bed tonight, not handing her my jizz in a sterile plastic cup. What a f*****g letdown.
“Is there a problem?” she asks, blinking at me.
I manage to unfreeze my brain enough to respond. Leaning closer, I say quietly, “Hell yes, there is. I’m not jacking off into some cup for you in the bathroom of a Mexican restaurant. What did you think I meant by doing
