NOVPUBThomas pushed his chair back slightly, unzipping his pants with one hand while the other tugged down the waistband of his boxers.
A moment later, he was fully exposed—hard, proud, and twitching with arousal.
Ten inches, thick and veined, curving slightly upward. An impressive sight by most standards, and one that had never failed to draw gasps or moans of approval. He'd left women speechless with it before.
Thomas looked at Jade, confidence beginning to creep back into his eyes.
"Well?" he asked with a cocky lift of his brow. "Satisfied?"
But Jade merely tilted her head to the side and gave a soft, amused laugh.
"Not bad," she said casually, her voice smooth as silk with a cutting undertone. "Really. It's… nice."
Then she leaned in slightly, her smile widening—not in admiration, but in wicked, merciless amusement.
"But not good enough."
Thomas's smirk faltered.
Just a little.
Jade's words hung in the air like a guillotine blade, cold and precise. She wasn't teasing—she was evaluating, and Thomas could feel the scale tipping away from him.
"I mean," she added, letting her fingers idly trace the edge of her exposed breast, "it's probably the best I've seen on a man trying so hard to impress me. But let's not pretend it's anything legendary."
Her eyes flicked pointedly downward.
"You're big," she continued. "But Ross… Ross was monstrous. I was not joking about what I said earlier, Thomas. Ross got fifteen inches. Veined. Thick. Unrelenting. When that man was inside me, I could feel him rearranging my guts."
She smiled at Thomas with cruel sweetness.
"You're a strong eight, maybe a soft nine. But Ross? He was a ten… in every way that mattered."
The tension in the room was electric now, every word she spoke twisting the knife a little deeper into Thomas's pride.
He could feel the invisible blow to his ego, his arousal laced now with frustration and the desperate need to reclaim the power she was stealing from him with nothing more than a smile and a memory.
But Jade wasn't finished.
"You think size is enough, Thomas? That showing it off would make me melt? You poor thing… you still don't understand. Seduction isn't about showing off your tool like some auction prize. It's about control. Presence. Timing. Restraint."
She leaned back again, the fabric of her top still lowered, her breast still casually on display as if none of this fazed her. And it didn't. Not really. Because she was the one in control. Still calm. Still untouched.
Still entirely out of reach.
"You played your card too soon, Thomas," she said with a shrug. "And now there's nothing left to impress me."
Thomas stared at her, lips parted, breathing slightly heavier, the fire in his gut a strange mix of lust, humiliation, and the fierce urge to dominate her—to make her stop looking at him like that, like she'd already won.
But she had.
And she knew it.
Even Brandon, standing quietly in the corner, didn't say a word—but something in his posture, the absolute stillness of it, made Thomas feel like a fool on a stage, exposed in more ways than one.
Jade finally reached for her top, calmly covering herself once more, smoothing the fabric like nothing had happened.
Then she stood.
"I think that's enough games for one night," she said, her voice light and breezy. "Thanks for the… preview."
She turned and began to walk away, hips swaying with every step, utterly unbothered.
And Thomas sat there, cock out, pride wounded, watching the woman he'd tried to conquer walk away like he never had a chance to begin with.
But since he was a professional, Thomas didn't stop there. He had built his entire reputation on charm, persistence, and knowing when to push and when to pull back. Jade, however, was different.
She was the kind of woman who didn't respond to flirtation the way others did. She didn't melt under pressure, didn't waver under praise.
She was steel beneath silk, and every one of his tactics had bounced off her like water against glass.
Still, he tried.
Day after day, week after week, he showed up at her office—always with a reason.
Sometimes to talk about mutual business ventures, sometimes to offer help with administrative problems, and sometimes just to "check in" as if that would slowly create intimacy.
He brought coffee, flowers, little tokens meant to show thoughtfulness, charm, attentiveness. Jade never refused them.
She accepted everything with polite gratitude, always with that distant, unreachable grace.
But she never softened.
And Thomas—who had bedded socialites, actresses, even married CEOs' wives—found himself increasingly frustrated.
Her walls were unyielding, her posture always upright, her voice always controlled.
Even when he tried more aggressive tactics—dropping flirtatious remarks, leaning in too close, testing boundaries—Jade never snapped.
She simply looked at him with those cool, knowing eyes, like she saw straight through him and found him lacking.
After a full month of this fruitless pursuit, Thomas decided to change course. He vanished. No more visits, no messages, no gifts.
He removed himself from her orbit entirely, banking on the idea that his absence would linger in her mind. That she would grow used to his presence, and without it, something might stir.
But when he returned a month later, it was as if he'd never existed.
Jade greeted him with the same calm professionalism as before, her tone pleasant but impersonal. She was more radiant than ever, glowing in a way that made him clench his fists in quiet frustration.
It wasn't because of him—he could feel it. She hadn't missed him. If anything, she looked freer, more confident, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Worse, Thomas could tell: every attempt he had made had only deepened her hunger for someone else.
Ross.
That name was like a curse in Thomas's head now. The man wasn't even around, and yet his shadow loomed large over everything. Jade's eyes had once lit up when Ross was mentioned—then hardened.
