Meet Jade Cross, New York City's infamous heartbreaker-better known as the Black Widow.
She plays with guys at her will and, once she's had her fun, leaves them with a broken heart and a red kiss at the corner of their lips-her trademark.
Her latest...
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Jade's POV
I opened my eyes slowly and immediately regretted it.
A dull, relentless pounding sat behind my forehead, each pulse seemingly determined to remind me exactly how much I'd had to drink the night before. I groaned under my breath and rubbed both hands over my face, trying to piece together enough of the evening to figure out why I felt like I'd been hit by a truck.
Then I looked across the room.
And saw him.
My hands dropped from my face as my eyes widened.
Jesse was asleep beside me, tangled in my sheets, his hair a complete mess and one arm thrown carelessly across the pillow as though waking up in my bed was the most natural thing in the world.
My jaw dropped.
"Motherf—"
The bedroom door creaked open before I could finish.
"Hey, J—"
Liz's head appeared through the gap. Her eyes landed on me first, then slowly traveled toward the other side of the bed.
Her mouth fell open.
I had never moved faster in my life.
My eyes narrowed into what I hoped communicated if you make a single sound, I will personally end you, while one hand frantically motioned for her to keep quiet. Thankfully, almost a decade of friendship had made Liz fluent in my particular brand of silent threat.
She backed out of the room, still looking thoroughly scandalized, and carefully pulled the door shut.
"Shit," I mouthed.
For a few seconds, I stayed completely still and tried to think.
Nothing useful happened.
Fantastic.
I slipped out of bed and gathered whatever clothes I could find without making too much noise, throwing them on while occasionally checking over my shoulder to make sure Jesse was still asleep.
He was.
Which gave me a few uninterrupted seconds to process the situation, although process was probably too generous a word for whatever my brain was doing.
What the hell had happened to me last night?
Actually, no. I knew what had happened. That was precisely the problem.
I pulled my hair out from beneath my shirt and stared at Jesse again, feeling that strange uneasiness settle somewhere beneath my ribs. The fact that I had just communicated with Liz entirely through frantic hand gestures wasn't helping. Since when did I panic about things like this?
Spending time with Jesse was clearly beginning to affect me.
