Harper's Rules 1 & 2

Chapter 5: Jake

"What about this one, Jacob?" A bright, perky voice chirped out at me.

Fuck, I'm dying a slow, painful death.

I ran my palm over my face, then scrubbed it over the bristly stubble on my chin a few times. My stiff back and numb ass reminded me I'd sat in this position way too long.

"Looks great, babe." Without looking up from my phone, I feigned interest for my severely neglected and self-pitied cock's sake. At this point, my words probably came out as monotone and drained as I felt inside.

Girlfriend or not, I don't have time for this shit.

I'd better get at least a fucking blow job afterwards.

"Jacob!" A pair of lips that I had much better ideas of what to do with pouted at me, which at this point was just another jab at my blue balls. "That's what you said about the last six pairs of jeans."

Brittany Manfield's perfect figure whirled around one-hundred and eighty degrees in front of the store's three-way mirror, then her eyes dragged scrutinously down her rounded, temptatious ass that I also had better ideas for than what she'd dragged me through the past three hours.

I don't even sure what fucking store we're in anymore. They all look the same to me.

"Jake, you aren't even looking!" At her shrill tone and unusual use of my nickname, my eyes snapped up to her baby blues, a personal weakness. After a few eye blinks, she spoke slowly like she thought I was either a child or just stupid, "Do... these... make me look... fat?"

"Hardly, babe." I fought the urge to stab my eyes out with the end of a plastic hanger or, even better, a metal one. "Nothing makes you look fat, because you aren't."

And because you eat nothing but salads, cabbage soup, and juices.

"I don't know, Jacob..." I internally groaned as her manicured fingers ran over her perfectly round ass then cupped her cheeks. "Maybe I should try the AG's on again..."

My eyes dropped to the discarded, foot-high pile of rejected clothing on her dressing room's floor and I fought the urge that I slammed the back of my head into the wall it rested on.

Shit, don't go backwards.

"How about..." I set down the similarly sized giant stack of clothes laid across my lap, that honestly I couldn't tell how any were different from anything she already wore, down on the bench I sat on.

My legs and back sighed with relief when I stood up and popped some tension out of my neck when I pulled each ear down to the nearest shoulder. Since she watched me in the mirror, I took two long steps towards her, my arms wrapped around her slim waist.

"...We go back to my house and I'll take off whatever jeans you want." My right hand's knuckles brushed against the underside of her left breast as a painful reminder of how long it's been since I'd actually touched them and I buried my nose into her hair.

She smells like... hairspray.

But at this point, I was so desperate, even Brit's fake, product-heavy scent turned me on as it burned the inside of my nostrils. I got as far as one kiss placed against the skin on her neck before her shoulder lifted and jabbed me in the ear. She giggled, shoved my hands off her, then turned around and faced me with both hands now on her hips.

"But Jacob." Her blue-gray eyes batted at me from under thick, false eyelashes. "We can't right now."

"Brit, please." I felt like I'd broken a tooth with how hard my jaw clamped tight.