Road Trip (Jenna Ortega X Emma Myers)

Chapter 5 | Emma - On the road

It took me a moment after waking up to remember the night before. The conversation was laced with innuendo, the finger fucking, and the way I tumbled out of the room drowning in guilt and struggled to hold back tears while the receptionist charged me for a second room. The memory of slumping against the door once I got to this room and letting the tears come ran through me like ice.

What the fuck is wrong with you? My brain couldn't let it go. This sort of shitty behavior was exactly what made tech so terrible-all the men who thought they could act like this with their employees and then stroll into the office the next day like nothing had happened. And here I was doing the same thing.

But then, Jenna had that picture of me. She'd been fascinated by it all day, although I hadn't known what it was at the time. I just knew she kept disappearing into her phone, her thoughts a million miles away. She would start feeling guilty every time I spoke.

Her cheeks seemed permanently red all day. And when I'd found it, when I'd suggested she could keep it (as though I had any control over what she did with her phone), the way her eyes lit up haunted me. The speed with which she agreed to me taking a photo of her and getting practically naked for me...

I pulled my phone off the charger and brought up the picture. It was just as lascivious as it had been the night before, perhaps even more so with the cold light of day instead of the heat of night. I felt my pulse quicken instinctively. That spot to the left of her sternum where I'd left a hickey made me run my tongue over my teeth, missing the taste of her. My fingers twitched, seeing the hot skin she had begged me to touch. Looking at her lips, her voice echoed in my head. Fuck me, Emma , she seemed to whisper.

"Fuck," I responded in a whisper of my own. I truly hadn't thought she was capable of swearing until that unexpected word in the truck. I smiled suddenly, realizing that was probably when she found the Vogue cover. At least she was into me, and I was turned on by her.

My phone let out a quick double buzz, and a text popped up at the top of the screen. My fingers jerked away from my stomach, where they had been teasing downward. That would certainly not have been appropriate, not while thinking about an employee.

Jenna, Moving Ad: Hey, ready to get going?

Shit, I had let myself sleep in. I jumped up, determined to get in a cold shower before sharing the truck cab with her all day.

Me: 20 minutes, please. I'll meet you at the truck.

Jenna, Moving Ad: K then I'm getting breakfast first, your treat ;) want me to grab you something?

How could she be so chill about all this? I requested a muffin and a cup of coffee and then got ready at record speed. Yes, I kicked myself the whole time I carefully applied my makeup, taking precious minutes away from important things like packing neatly, but that didn't stop me from doing it. And yes, when I spritzed perfume, I said out loud,

"Stop it, Emma," but that didn't stop me either. The thought of Jenna made me want to look my best.

I beat her to the truck by about 30 seconds. I silently cursed again when she strolled out of the lobby doors, a duffel bag thrown over her shoulder and sunglasses perched on her nose. In her hand she balanced my coffee and a pastry on top, careful not to spill. She wore a low v-neck today, a shirt that should have been a casual, unremarkable thing. But all I could focus on was the hickey right at the crest of the v, so stupidly juvenile and stupidly fucking sexy.

She knew it was there, visible to all the world. I could tell from the little half-grin she gave when she saw me. But somehow, it didn't send me down another shame spiral. It just sent a prickle of heat through me. I guessed that was part of her charm, the way she could smile once and make everything okay again.