Ride With Me | jensoo (X-Rated)

Ride With Me IV

All Over Me

Another one for the holidays!

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Three months. It had been three months since Jisoo had last touched her, tasted her, made her feel so damn good it wasn't funny.

Jennie didn't get it: how could you sleep with someone three times – three amazing times – and then just not even touch them for three months?

It was insane.

Of course, Jennie could have done something, made the first move, but she just wasn't sure how to do it. Or, for that matter, whether or not she should do it.

There was still the issue of sleeping with your boss never being a good thing. And then there was the issue that Jennie couldn't look at another woman now without mentally comparing them to her incredibly sexy boss. And, finally, there were the dreams – the intense, sexual, mind-blowingly good dreams – that ended in Jennie waking up sexually frustrated and unable to get back to sleep.

Her own hand wasn't doing any good lately, either. Neither was the random girl she'd picked up, most unsatisfyingly, three weekends ago.

God damn it, Jisoo had gotten under her skin.

Jennie bit her lip and stared at the clock. It was seven o'clock on a Friday evening and she was still at work. That was lame now, wasn't it?

Oh, she had had work to do, but then, she always had work to do. There was a never-ending supply of work if she wanted it. But she was on top of all the urgent stuff, and she could go home for the weekend. She could go out, maybe; have a drink; catch up with a friend or something. She could try and find a cure for the Kim Jisoo syndrome.

Maybe they'd declare it an official disease one day, or just set up support groups.

Hi, my name is Jennie Kim and I'm obsessed with Kim Jisoo. Ever since she fucked me half to death in an elevator, on my couch and in an airplane, I've....

There was a thought.

A movement from the office next door caught her eye. Jennie frowned. Jisoo had been conspicuously absent from work for the afternoon, although that was not entirely uncommon. Half the time, the brunette would turn up in one of her recording studios at the most insane times, random times, like three in the morning on a Wednesday, and then they'd have a new hit on their hands. In her defense, she never woke anyone else up for these late-night recording sessions, doing all the work herself.

It drove the mastering people crazy because it took so much more work.

So was it Jisoo? Or just...

She'd better go check. You never knew who might be in the office.

Jennie opened the adjoining door carefully and peered through the crack.

Jisoo was indeed at her desk. In fact, she was sitting in her chair, head down on her folded arms, looking like she was asleep. Except that she'd been walking around a minute or so earlier.

Jennie let the door swing open and leaned against the frame. Things hadn't been easy for her gorgeous boss of late. The papers had been sold some story about her childhood and it had turned out that it had come from Jisoo's own father. The only photo ever in print of Jisoo was now one of a sullen, angry eight-year-old. The story had been some cry-in-the-bath bullshit about how difficult the musician had always been and how she was cutting her father out of her life.

Or, as Jisoo had so pithily put it, out of her bank account.

It was unfair and, while Jisoo was lucky to have an extremely loyal staff and set of friends that rallied around her, Jennie knew it was getting to the brunette. And here was perfect proof in front of her.