Kissing Booth (Rewritten)

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What If

Jamie Myers

I kicked my feet onto the round table that most of the other lackeys had used to play card games and stuck a lit blunt into the corner of my mouth. After taking a long, soothing drag, I set my attention on the tall, mocha-colored man who was standing just a few feet away from me with his attention fixed on the opened binder in his hands. I was ordered to show up to the warehouse a little earlier than planned because the boss claimed he had important work for me to do, but it had been a full ten minutes, and he wasn't actually saying anything. "So, uh–" I cleared my throat, "–I skipped school for this, so this job better pay good."

He lifted his dark eyes to meet mine. "Right," he said with a sigh just as he lowered himself into the seat opposite me. "I didn't call you here for a job."

"Then why am I here?" I asked with my brows furrowed into a line. "Wait, you're not firing me, are you?" The reason why I sought out this particular profession was because of the amount of the money I earned for doing a simple job. Sometimes, my work consisted of stealing cars and other times, it was doing car repair and paint jobs on the stolen cars in the warehouse. It was easy once you got the hang of it, and much more rewarding than a part time job. 

He laughed softly in response. "I am not firing you, Myers. You're far too valuable."

"Then what is it?"

He didn't answer my question; instead, he kept his dark eyes on me for a few silent moments, before he leaned against the table separating us and interlocked his fingers. "Have you ever been with a man before?"

"Um..." I pulled my blunt out of my mouth and sat up straight, "...why is that important?"

"Have you ever been with a man before?" he repeated instead of answering my question.

Because I didn't want to question him too much, I gave him a short and rather vague answer. "I've been with a few other boys, yeah."

"You're not listening," he snapped, and then followed it with, "I said, have you been with a man before?"

Wait, what? The atmosphere changed so quickly that I had to loosen the neckline of my shirt in an attempt to relieve this new-found heat. "Uh, I don't, um, why are you..."

His lips curled into a grin, exposing his impeccably white teeth. I had never seen him smile before now. "You're even cuter when you get all clammy."

"Am I, like, missing something?" I glanced around at my surroundings to see if there was a hidden camera anywhere, to see if I was being punked. I had to be. How could my boss, who was arguably ten years older than me, be making a move on me? It didn't matter that he was hot, I still couldn't, and wouldn't—

"Take your clothes off," he ordered.

Oh god.

My throat grew dry as I tried to come to terms with what was currently going on. When the boss realized that I wasn't going to make a move, he stood to his full height, grabbed onto the hem of his shirt, and slid it over his head, revealing his hard abdomen and two defined lines that angled down into his pants. He smirked at me then, and it wasn't the sexy kind of smirk either. It was an all-knowing smirk—the same one I would give to Scar to make him feel uncomfortable. 

Boy was he making me uncomfortable.

"I'm so confused."

The boss circled around the table to close whatever space was left between us which wasn't much to begin with. He was so close that I could easily reach out and run my hands along his abs, but I told myself that I wouldn't. This wasn't right, I told myself, but stealing cars wasn't right either. I debated the issue in my head, but I didn't give it too much thought. The only thing that seemed to matter was that there was a beautiful man, half-naked, in front of me, and my lower-self had already started to respond to him; so I practically tore my shirt off my body and unbuttoned my pants, pushing them down to my knees, crushing any remaining sense of resistance. In just seconds, the boss' lips were on mine.