Fuck.

The walk to Jungkook's office was mercifully short.

"Hold my calls, Scott," Jungkook said, steering me into his office through the open glass double doors. Striding through the security door so quickly that there was no need for him to break stride.

The pretty redhead at the reception desk pushed hastily to her feet, about to impart some information until he shook his head impatiently. Her mouth snapped shut and she stared at me as we passed at a brisk pace, eyes wide. His secretary stood when he saw his boss's approach, but remained silent when he noted that Jungkook wasn't alone.

Despite my irritation, I couldn't help but be impressed with his spacious command centre. There were distinct seating areas, each one larger than Hobi's entire office, and a bar that showcased jewelled crystal decanters, which provided the only spots of colour in a palette that was otherwise black, grey, and white. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city on two sides, while a wall of glass faced the rest of the office space. The one opaque wall opposite the massive desk was covered with flat screens streaming news channels from around the world.

Jungkook hit a button on his desk that closed the doors, then another that instantly frosted the clear glass wall, effectively shielding us from the view of his employees. With the beautiful obsidian base with sapphire-hued reflective film on the exterior windows, privacy was assured. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a chrome coat rack. Then he returned to where I'd remained standing just inside the doors.

"Something to drink, Taehyung?"

"No, thank you."

'Damn it. He was even yummier in just the vest. I could better see how fit he was. How strong his shoulders were. How beautifully his biceps and ass flexed as he moved.'

He gestured toward a black leather sofa. "Have a seat."

"I have to go back to work."

"And I have a meeting at two. The sooner we work this out, the sooner we can both get back to business. Now, sit down."

"What do you think we're going to work out?"

Sighing, he scooped me up like a bride and carried me over to the sofa. He dropped me on my butt and sat next to me. "Your objections. It's time to discuss what it's going to take to get you beneath me."

"A miracle." I pushed back from him, widening the space between us. "I find your approach crude and offensive."

'And a major turn-on, but I was never going to admit it.'

He contemplated me with narrowed eyes. "It may be blunt, but it's honest. You don't strike me as the kind of man who wants bullshit and flattery instead of the truth."

"What I want is to be seen as having more to offer than an inflatable sex doll."

Jungkook's brows shot up. "Well, then."

"Are we done?" I stood.

Wrapping my wrist with his fingers, he pulled me back down. "Hardly. We've established some talking points: We have an intense sexual attraction and neither of us wants to date. So what do you want - exactly? Seduction? Do you want to be seduced, Taehyung?"

I was equally fascinated and appalled by the conversation. And, yes, tempted. It was hard not to be faced with such a gorgeous, virile male so determined to get hot and sweaty with me. Still, the dismay won out.

"Sex that's planned, like a business transaction, is a turnoff for me."

"Establishing parameters, in the beginning, makes it less likely that there'll be exaggerated expectations and disappointment at the conclusion."

"Are you kidding me?" I frowned. "Listen to yourself. Why even call it a fuck? Just be clear and call it a seminal emission in a pre-approved orifice?"

He pissed me off by throwing his head back and laughing. The full, throaty sound flowed over me like a rush of warm water. My awareness of him heightened to a physically painful degree and his earthy amusement made him less sex god and more human.

Flesh and blood.

Real.

I pushed to my feet and backed out of reach. "Casual sex doesn't have to include wine and roses, but for fuck's sake, whatever else it is, sex should be personal. Friendly even. With mutual respect at the very least."

His humour fled as he stood, his eyes darkening. "There are no mixed signals in my private affairs. Do you want me to blur that line? I can't think of a good reason to."

"I don't want you to do shit, besides, let me get back to work." I strode to the door and yanked on the handle, cursing softly when it didn't budge.

"Let me out, Jungkook."

I felt him come up behind me. His palms pressed flat to the glass on either side of my shoulders, caging me in. I couldn't think of my self-preservation when he was so close.

The strength and demand of his will exuded an almost tangible force field. When he stepped close enough, it surrounded me, closing me in with him. Everything outside of that bubble ceased to exist, while inside it my entire body strained toward him. That he had such a profound, immediate effect on me while being so damn irritating had my mind spinning.

'How could I be so turned on by a man whose words should've turned me completely off?'

"Turn around, Taehyung."

My eyes closed against the surge of arousal I felt at his authoritative tone. Fuck, he smelled good. His powerful frame radiated heat and hunger, spurring my wild desire for him. The uncontrollable response was intensified by my lingering frustration with Kyung-bae and my more recent aggravation with Jungkook himself.

'I wanted him. Bad. But he was no good for me. Honestly, I could screw up my life on my own. I didn't need any help.'

My flushed forehead touched the air-conditioned glass. "Let it go, Jungkook."

"I am. You're too much trouble." His lips brushed behind my ear. One of his hands pressed flat to my stomach, the fingers splaying to urge me back against him. He was as aroused as I was, his cock hard and thick against my lower back.

"Turn around and say goodbye."

Disappointed and regretful, I turned in his grip, sagging against the door to cool my heated back. He was curved over me, his luxurious hair framing his beautiful face, his forearm propped against the door to bring him closer. I had almost no room to breathe.

The hand he'd had at my waist was now resting on the curve of my hip, tightening reflexively and driving me mad. He stared, his gaze searingly intense.

"Kiss me," he said hoarsely. "Give me that much."

Panting softly, I licked my dry lips. He groaned, tilted his head a bit and sealed his mouth over mine.

I was shocked by how soft his firm lips were and the gentleness of the pressure he exerted. I sighed and his tongue dipped inside, tasting me in long leisurely licks. His kiss was confident, skilled, and just the right side of aggressive to turn me on wildly.

I distantly registered that my hands were in his hair. I pulled on the silky strands, using them to direct his mouth over mine. He growled, deepening the kiss, stroking my tongue with lush slides of his own.

I felt the raging beat of his heart against my chest, proof that he wasn't just a hopeless ideal conjured by my fevered imagination. He pushed away from the door. Cupping the back of my head and the curve of my buttocks, he lifted me off my feet. "I want you, Taehyung. Trouble or not, I can't stop."

I was pressed full-body against him, achingly aware of every hot, hard inch of him. I kissed him back as if I could eat him alive. My skin was damp, too sensitive, my chest heavy and my nipples tender. My cock throbbed for attention, pounding along with my raging heartbeat. I was vaguely aware of movement, and then the coach was against my back.

Jungkook was levelled over me with one knee on the cushion and the other foot on the floor. His left arm supported his torso while his right hand gripped the back of my knee, sliding upward along my thigh in a firmly possessive glide.

His breath hissed out, "Fvck, Taehyung." A low rumble vibrated in his chest, the primitive sound sending goose bumps racing across my skin.

"Your boss is damned lucky he's happily committed."

In a daze, I watched Jungkook's body lower to mine, my legs sliding apart to accommodate the width of his hips. My muscles strained with the urge to lift toward him, to hasten the contact between us that I'd been craving since I first laid eyes on him.

Lowering his head, he took my mouth again, bruising my lips with a fine edge of violence. Abruptly, he yanked himself away, stumbling to his feet. I lay there gasping and wet, so willing and ready. Then I realized why he'd reacted so fiercely.

Someone spoke.

Mortified by the sudden intrusion into our privacy, I scrambled up and back into the armrest, yanking down my shirt.

"...two o'clock appointment is here."

It took an endless moment to realize Jungkook and I was still alone in the room and that the voice I'd heard had come through a speaker. Jungkook stood at the far end of the sofa, flushed and scowling, his chest heaving. His tie was loosened and the fly of his slacks strained against a very impressive erection. I had a nightmare vision in my head of what I must look like. And I was late getting back to work.

"Shit." He shoved both hands through his hair. "It's the middle of the fucking day. In my goddamn fucking office!"

I got to my feet and tried to straighten my appearance.

"Here." He came to me, trying to insert my shirt into my pants again.

Furious at what I'd almost let happen when I should be at work, I smacked at his hands. "Stop it. Leave me alone."

"Shut up, Taehyung," he said grimly, catching the hem of my black silk shirt and tugging it into place, adjusting it so that the buttons once again formed a straight row between my chest. Then he pulled up my pants, smoothing them with calm, expert hands. "Fix your hair."

Jungkook retrieved his coat, shrugging into it before adjusting his tie. We reached the door at the same time and when I crouched to fetch my shopping bag full of chocolates, he lowered himself with me.

He caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"

My throat burned.

I was aroused and mad and thoroughly embarrassed.

I'd never in my life lost my mind like that.

And I hated that I'd done so with him, a man whose approach to sexual intimacy was so clinical it depressed me just thinking about it.

I jerked my chin away. "Do I look okay?"

"You look beautiful and fvckable. I want you so badly it hurts. I'm dangerously close to taking you back to the couch and making you come 'til you beg me to stop."

"Can't accuse you of being silver-tongued," I muttered, aware that I wasn't offended.

The rawness of his hunger for me was a serious aphrodisiac. Clutching the strap of my flimsy shopping bag, I stood on shaky legs. I needed to get away from him. And, when my workday was done, I needed to be alone with a big glass of wine.

Jungkook stood with me. "I'll be done by five. I'll come to get you then."

"No, you won't. This doesn't change anything."

"The hell it doesn't."

"Don't be arrogant, Jungkook. I lost my head for a second, but I still don't want what you want."

His fingers curled around the door handle. "Yes, you do. You just don't want it the way I want to give it to you. So, we'll revisit and revise."

'More business. Cut-and-dried. My spine stiffened.'

I set my hand over his and yanked on the handle, ducking under his arm to squeeze out the door. His secretary shoved quickly to his feet, gaping, as did the woman and two men who were waiting for Cross.

I heard him speak behind me. "Scott will show you into my office. I'll be just a moment."

He caught me by the reception, his arm crossing my lower back to grip my hip. Not wanting to make a scene, I waited until we were by the elevators to pull away.

He stood calmly and hit the call button. "Five o'clock, Taehyung."

I stared at the lighted button. "I'm busy."

"Tomorrow, then."

"I'm busy all weekend."

Stepping in front of me, he asked tightly, "With whom?"

"That's none of your—"

His hand covered my mouth. "Don't. Tell me when then. And before you say never, take a good look and tell me if you see a man who's easily deterred." His face was hard, his gaze narrowed and determined.

I shivered. I wasn't sure I'd win a battle of wills with Jeon Jungkook. Swallowing, I waited until he lowered his hand and said, "I think we both need to cool off. Take a couple of days to think."

He persisted. "Monday after work."

The elevator arrived and I stepped into it. Facing him, I countered, "Monday lunch."

We'd have only an hour, a guaranteed escape. Just before the doors closed, he said, "We're going to happen, Taehyung." It sounded as much like a threat as a promise.

"Don't sweat it, Taehyung," Hobi said when I arrived at my desk nearly a quarter after two. "You didn't miss anything. I had a late lunch with Mr Seojoon and my sister. I just barely got back myself."

"Thank you." No matter what he said, I still felt terrible. My kick-ass Friday morning seemed to have happened days ago. We worked steadily until five, discussing a fast-food client and contemplating some possible tweaks to an ad for a chain of organic grocery stores.

"Talk about strange bedfellows," Hobi had teased, not knowing how apt that was concerning my personal life.

I'd just shut down my computer and was pulling my purse out of the drawer when my phone rang. I glanced at the clock, saw it was exactly five, and considered ignoring the call because I was technically done for the day. But since I was still feeling shitty about my overly-long lunch, I considered it penance and answered. "Jung Hoseok's -"

"Taehyung, honey. Kyung-bae says you forgot your mobile phone at his office."

I exhaled in a rush and sagged back into my chair. I could picture the handkerchief wringing that usually accompanied that particular anxious tone of my mother's. It drove me nuts and it also broke my heart.

"Hi, Mom. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm lovely. Thank you." My mom had a voice that was both girlish and breathy like Marilyn Monroe crossed with Lee Young-ae.

"Jackson dropped your phone off with the concierge at your place. You really shouldn't go anywhere without it. You never know when you might need to call for someone—"

I'd been debating the logistics of just keeping the phone and forwarding calls to a new number I didn't share with my mom, but that wasn't my biggest concern. "What does Dr Joonie say about you tracing my phone?"

The silence on the other end of the line was telling. "Dr Kim knows I worry about you." Pinching the bridge of my nose, I said, "I think it's time for us to have another joint appointment, Mom." "Oh...of course. He did mention that he'd like to see you again."

Probably because he suspects you're not being forthcoming. I changed the subject. "I like my new job."

"That's wonderful, Taehyung! Is your boss treating you well?"

"Yes, he's great. I couldn't ask for anyone better."

"Is he handsome?"

I smiled. "Yes, very. And he's taken."

"Damn it. The good ones always are." She laughed and my smile widened. I loved it when she was happy. I wished she were happy more often.

"I can't wait to see you tomorrow at the advocacy dinner."

Suh-Choi Myung-hee was in her element at society functions, a gilded shining beauty who'd never lacked male attention in her life. "Let's make a day of it," my mom said breathlessly. "You, me, and Jimin. We'll go to the spa, and get pretty and polished. I'm sure you could use a massage after working so hard."

"I won't turn one down, that's for sure. And I know Jimin will love it."

"Oh, I'm excited! I'll send a car by your place around eleven?"

"We'll be ready."

After I hung up, I leaned back in my chair and exhaled, needing a hot bath and an orgasm. If Jeon Jungkook somehow found out I masturbated while thinking about him, I didn't care. Being sexually frustrated was weakening my position, a weakness I knew he wouldn't be sharing. No doubt he'd have a pre-approved orifice lined up before day's end.

As I swapped out my dress shoes for my walking shoes, my phone rang again. My mother was rarely distracted for long. The five minutes since we'd ended our call was just about the right length of time for her to realize the cell phone issue hadn't been resolved.

Once again, I debated ignoring the phone, but I didn't want to take any of the day's crap home with me. I answered with my usual greeting, but it lacked its usual punch.

"I'm still thinking about you."

The velvet rasp of Jeon's voice flooded me with such relief I realized I'd been hoping to hear it again. Today. God The craving was so acute I knew he'd become a drug to my body, the prime source of some very intense highs.

"I can still feel you, Taehyung. Still taste you. It's been hard since you left, through two meetings and one teleconference. You've got the advantage, state your demands."

"Ah," I murmured. "Lemme think."

I let him wait, smiling as I remembered Jimin's comment about blackballs. "Hmm... Nothing is coming to mind. But I do have some friendly advice. Go spend time with anyone who salivates at your feet and makes you feel like a god. Fuck them until neither of you can walk. When you see me on Monday you'll be totally over it and your life will return to its usual obsessive-compulsive order."

The creak of leather sounded over the phone and I imagined him leaning back in his desk chair. "That was your one free pass, Taehyung. The next time you insult my intelligence, I'll take you over my knee."

"I don't like that sort of thing." And yet the warning, given in that voice, aroused me.

He is Mr Dangerous for sure.

"We'll discuss. In the interim, tell me what you do like."

I stood. "You have the voice for phone sex, but I've got to go. I have a date with my dildo."

I should've hung up then, to gain the full effect of the brush-off, but I couldn't resist learning if he'd gloat like I had imagined he would. Plus, I was having fun with him.

"Oh, Taehyung," Jungkook spoke my name in a decadent purr. "You're determined to drive me to my knees, aren't you? What will it take to talk you into a threesome with B.O.B.?"

I ignored both questions as I slung my bag over my shoulder, grateful he couldn't see how my hand shook. I was not discussing Battery Operated Boyfriends with Jeon Jungkook.

I'd never discussed masturbation openly with a man, let alone a man who was a stranger to me.

"My B.O.B.s and I have an understanding - when we're done with each other, we know exactly which one of us has been used, and it isn't me. Good night, Jungkook."

I hung up and took the stairs, deciding the twenty-floor descent would serve double duty as both an avoidance technique and a replacement for a visit to the gym.

I was so grateful to be home after the day I'd had that I practically danced through my apartment's front door. My heartfelt "Fvck, it's good to be home!" and accompanying spin was vehement enough to startle the couple on the couch.

"Oh," I said, out of my silliness. Jimin wasn't in a compromising position with his guest when I barged in, but they'd been sitting close enough to suggest intimacy.

Grudgingly, I thought of Jeon Jungkook, who preferred to strip all intimacy out of the most intimate act I could imagine. I'd had one-night stands and friends with benefits, and no one knew better than I that sex and making love were two very different things, but I didn't think I'd ever been able to view sex like a handshake. I thought it was sad that Kim did, even though he wasn't a man who inspired pity or sympathy.

"Hey, baby boy," Jimin called out, pushing to his feet.

"I was hoping you'd make it back before Yoongi had to leave."

"Wait. Who?"

"I have a scheduled teleconference in an hour," Yoongi explained, rounding the coffee table as I dropped my bag on the floor.

"Hi Taehyung, We meet again. But I'm glad it's you who I got to meet before I left."

"Um..." I shook the hand he extended to me in shock, taking him in with a glance - yup, he's Hobi's partner.

"Mind if I grab a glass of wine?" I asked. "It's been a long day."

"Go for it," Yoongi replied calmly.

"I'll take one, too." Jimin joined us by the breakfast bar. He was wearing loose-fitting black jeans and an off-the-shoulder black sweater.

The look was casual, and elegant and did a phenomenal job of offsetting his dark brown hair and warm brown eyes. I went to the wine fridge and pulled out a random bottle. Yoongi shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels, talking quietly with Jimin as I uncorked and poured. The phone rang and I grabbed the handset off the wall.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Taehyung? It's Yugyeom. Your blind date."

"My blind date? U-um.., okay." I leaned my hip into the counter.

"How are you? I hope you don't mind my calling. Your mom gave me your number."

"Oh... okay. What's up?" my voice is sceptical.

"Honestly? I'm calling about the blind date, how does next Monday sound?"

I closed my eyes, struggling to tamp down a flare of exasperation. It wasn't Yugeom's fault that my mom was a control freak. They didn't see that I'm not interested.

"I can't, Yugyeom. I'm excited to be single, at the moment, so please... just ignore my Mom's request."

"I'm... okay, I understand, don't worry too much. See you around..." he sounds dejected then he ends the call.

I set a filled glass in front of Jimin and took a big gulp out of my own. It never ceased to amaze me how much cooperation money could buy. I should expect another phone call from mom then.

'But again, that wasn't Yugeom's fault. I hung up and caught the glance Yoongi shot Jimin when he thought neither of us was looking. It was soft and filled with a sweet yearning, and it reminded me that my problems could wait.'

"I'm sorry I caught you on the way out, Yoongi. Do you have time for pizza Wednesday night? I'd love to do more than say hi and bye."

"I have to check... with Hobi." He gave me a regretful smile and shot another side glance at Jimin, "But I, we, could come by on Tuesday?"

"That'd be great." I smiled. "We could order in and have a movie night."

"I'd like that."

I was rewarded with the kiss Jimin blew me as he headed to the door to show Yoongi out. When he returned to the kitchen, he grabbed his wine and said, "All right. Spill it, Taehyung. You looked stressed."

"I am," I agreed, grabbing the bottle and moving into the living room.

"It's Jeon Jungkook, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. But I don't want to talk about him." Although Jungkook's pursuit was exhilarating, his goal sucked.

"Let's talk about you and Yoongi instead. How did you two meet?"

"I ran across him on a job. He's working part-time as a photographer's assistant. Sexy, isn't he?"

His eyes were bright and happy, "And a real gentleman. In an old-school way. Same with his Hobi. "

"Who knew there were any of those left?" I muttered before polishing off my first glass.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I'm sorry, Jimin. He's great, and he digs you. Is he studying photography too?"

"No. Just a hobby, he's a music producer. "

"Wow. That's great... So, do you know about Hobi?"

"I think so, too. Yes, we're trying for poly, but, forget about me for a minute. Talk about what's bugging you. Get it out." I sighed.

"My mom. She found me a date without consulting me, again. She also found out about Mingyu's gym and my recent interest in Krav Maga. You know I hate it when I'm not made aware. It makes me feel powerless in the situation, now she's freaking out."

"What? How'd she done that? I swear I didn't tell her. I'm gonna talk to her and remind her..."

"I know, you love me. But, please don't... Never even crossed my mind to ask you to fight my battles before you start anything. Thank you, I appreciate it, however, it's time I talk to her seriously about my life." Grabbing the bottle off the table, I refilled my glass.

"I'm going to meet with Dr Joonie to see if he can't talk some sense into her."

"Good move. Turn it over to her shrink. So... is everything okay with your job? Do you still love it?"

"Totally." My head fell back into the sofa cushions and my eyes closed.

"My work and you are my lifesavers right now."

"What about the young hottie bazillionaire who wants to nail you? Come on, Taehyung. You know I'm dying here. What happened?"

I told him, of course. I wanted his take on it all. But when I finished, he was quiet. I lifted my head to look at him, and found him bright-eyed and biting his lip.

"Jimin? What are you thinking?"

"I'm feeling kind of hot from that story." He laughed and the warm, bell-like sound swept a lot of my irritation away.

"He's gotta be so confused right now. I would've paid money to see his face when you hit him with that bit he wanted to spank you over."

"I can't believe he said that." Just remembering Jungkook's voice when he made that threat had my palms damp enough to leave steam on my glass.

"What the hell is he into?"

"Spanking's not deviant. Besides, he was going for missionary on the couch, so he's not averse to the basics." He fell into the couch, a brilliant smile lighting up his handsome face.

"You're a huge challenge to a guy who thrives on them. And he's willing to make concessions to have you, which I'd bet he's not used to. Just tell him what you want."

I split the last of the wine between us, feeling marginally better with a bit of alcohol in my veins.

'What did I want? Aside from the obvious?'

"We're incompatible."

"Is that what you call what happened on his couch?"

"Jimin, come on. Boil it down. He picked me up off the lobby floor and then asked me to fuck. That's it. Even a guy I take home from a bar has more going for him than that. Hey, what's your name? Come here often? Who's your friend? What are you drinking? Like to dance? Do you work around here?"

I sent Jimin a serious side-eye, "All right, all right. I get it." He set his glass down on the table.

"Let's go out. Hit a bar. Dance 'til we drop. Maybe meet some guys who'll talk you up some."

"Or at least buy me a drink."

"Hey, Jungkook offered you one of those in his office." I shook my head and stood.

"Whatever. Let me take a shower and we'll go." I threw myself into clubbing like it was going out of style.

Jimin and I bounced all over downtown clubs from Gangnam to Itaewon, wasting stupid money on cover charges and having a fabulous time. I danced until my feet felt like they were going to fall off, but I toughed it out until Jimin complained about his heeled boots first.

We'd just stumbled out of a techno-pop club with a plan to buy me flip-flops at a nearby convenience store when we ran across a hawker promoting a lounge a few blocks away.

"Great place to get off your feet for a while," he said, without the usual flashy smile or exaggerated hype most of the hawkers employed. His clothes—black jeans and turtleneck—were more upscale, which intrigued me. And he didn't have flyers or postcards.

What he handed me was a business card made from papyrus paper and printed with a gilded font that caught the light of the electric signage around us. I made a mental note to hang on to it as a great piece of print advertising.

A stream of quickly moving pedestrians flowed around us. Jimin squinted down at the lettering, having a few more drinks in him than I had.

"Looks swank!"

"Show them that card," the hawker urged. "You'll skip the cover."

"Sweet." Jimin linked arms with me and dragged me along.

"Let's go. You might find a quality guy in a swanky joint."

"Jimin. It's not like you can't afford to go to swank places... you're richer than I!" Both laughed at that.

My feet were seriously killing me by the time we found the place, but I quit bitching when I saw the charming entrance. The line to get in was long, extending down the street and around the corner.

Amy Winehouse's soulful voice drifted out of the open door, as did well-dressed customers who exited with big smiles. True to the hawker's word, the business card was a magic key that granted us immediate and free entrance. A gorgeous hostess led us upstairs to a quieter VIP bar that overlooked the stage and dance floor below.

We were shown to a small seating area by the balcony and settled at a table hugged by two half-moon velvet sofas. She propped a beverage menu in the centre and said,

"Your drinks are on the house. Enjoy your evening."

"Wow." Jimin whistled.

"We scored."

"I think that hawker recognized you from your multiple ads? Maybe those swanky mags?"

"Wouldn't that be awesome?" He grinned.

"God, it's a great night. Hanging out with my best boy and crushing on a new hunk in my life."

"Oh?"

"I think I've decided to see where things go with Yoongi."

That made me happy. It felt like I'd been waiting forever for him to find someone who'd treat him right.

"Has he asked you out yet?"

"No, but I don't think it's because he doesn't want to." He shrugged and smoothed his artfully ripped T-shirt. Paired with black leather pants and demure wristlets, he looked sexy and wild.

"I just think he's trying to figure out the situation with you first. He was shocked when I told him I lived with another man and that I'd moved across different countries to be with. He's worried I might be secretly hung up on you. That's why I wanted you two to meet today, so he could see how you and I are together."

"I'm sorry, Jimin. I'll try to put him at ease about it."

"It's not your fault. Don't worry about it. It'll work out with the three of us if it's supposed to."

His assurances didn't make me feel better. I tried to think if there was a way I could help. Two guys stopped by our table.

"Okay if we join you?" the taller one asked.

I glanced at Jimin, and then back at the guys. They looked like brothers and they were very attractive. Both were smiling and confident, their stances loose and easy. I was about to say, Sure, when a warm hand settled on my bare shoulder and squeezed firmly.

"This one's taken."

Across from me, Jimin gaped as Jeon Jungkook rounded the sofa and extended his hand to him. "Park? Jeon Jungkook."

"Park Jimin." He shook Jungkook's hand with a wide smile.

"But you knew that. Nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

I could've killed him, I seriously thought about it.

"Good to know." Jungkook settled on the seat beside me, his arm draped behind me so that his fingertips could brush casually and possessively up and down my arm.

"Maybe there's hope for me yet."

Twisting at the waist. I faced him and whispered fiercely, "What are you doing?"

He shot me a hard glance. "Whatever it takes."