Trust Me: A Roommates To Lovers Romance Novel (Free Book 2)

by Grahame Claire

  “Are you going to make a habit of it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She pressed on her toes and stole a kiss. A warmth spread over me from the inside out that I didn’t understand. I only knew it was unique to her.

  Her grin was pure seduction when she peeled her lips from mine. “My turn.”

  She slid down the wall to her knees before I could stop her. “Baker . . .” All thoughts died when she took me in her hands and flicked her tongue in my leaking slit. “Shit.”

  Her lips closed around the head of my dick, those doe eyes staring up at me as she pumped my shaft. Jesus. I wasn’t going to last long. Not with her on her knees, my fantasies come to life.

  “That mouth . . .”

  She bobbed, taking me a little deeper every time. One of her hands cupped my balls while the other jacked me off. “You’re spoiling me, Easy,” I rasped as I hit the back of her throat.

  Her teeth grazed my sensitive length as she released me. She sucked on the head before plunging down again. Her eyes never left mine.

  Powerful.

  That was what this connection was between us.

  I caressed her cheek and thrust my hand out to the wall for support. Like an avalanche, my orgasm built, starting in the backs of my thighs. Lightning raced up my spine. My balls drew up and my dick swelled.

  “Do you want it? In that pretty mouth?”

  She sucked harder, faster until I exploded into her mouth with a grunt. My hips pumped until I was spent, and she swallowed everything I had to give like she couldn’t get enough.

  I dropped down to the floor and scooped her into my arms. She settled against me, and I kissed the top of her head.

  Her fingers traced a pattern on my stomach, and I prayed she’d never stop touching me. Lukewarm water sprayed our legs. I had to get her out of there before it turned cold, but couldn’t find the energy to move.

  She scraped a fingernail down my chest. “You’re gonna be so late for work every day.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Baker

  I’d lost my mind getting in that shower with him.

  But I couldn’t stand his pain and wanted to do anything to stop it, even at the risk of my own psyche.

  I was more attracted to Holt than I’d ever been to another man. I hadn’t expected that. The power of his touch. The intensity of the orgasms he gave. The addictive taste of him.

  As I lay in his arms, back in his bed for the third night in a row, I couldn’t find it in me to get up. I didn’t want to. Here, I was safe and anything but, all at the same time. I’d known he was risky. That I’d get caught up in him in an instant if I didn’t watch it.

  I’d been careful, and it still wasn’t enough.

  The second I’d stepped into the shower, he’d become everything. Holt was all I could see, but his pull on me was a thousand—a million—times worse than Kyle’s. I wanted more nights like this.

  More mornings like the last two.

  More showers.

  More roommate nights.

  More family dinners, even if they turned to shit like the one tonight.

  I wanted that empty warehouse with his garage on the bottom floor and my shop upstairs. I wanted to remodel that apartment. Fight over paint colors. Have make-up sex in another shower—one that belonged to us.

  I wanted it all. I wanted it with Holt and only Holt. Which was so dangerous.

  But this was exactly how I ended up so broken. Because I couldn’t see past Kyle. Couldn’t stand on my own two feet.

  I thought I’d made headway. The internship. The makeup line. A friendship with Trish. An honorary aunt to Ella.

  Holt had sucked me in from the second he’d given me that lazy smirk and called me easy on the eyes. Despite my best effort, I’d never escaped his vortex. I should have known that the second I lost my mind when he didn’t come home.

  He shifted beside me, a possessive hand splayed across my back even in his sleep.

  “Easy.” His voice was rough as he pried his eyes open. “You okay?”

  The concern that met me twisted my soul into a heart-shaped knot.

  “Yeah.” I touched his cheek. “Go back to sleep.”

  The semblance of a smile I offered was enough to placate him. He rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him.

  “Holt.”

  He ran his fingers up and down my spine. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his solid chest. Just one more night. Or maybe two. Or maybe I could do a few nights and not lose myself.

  I held him a little too tightly. No. It was already happening. My mind was already altered because of him. I wasn’t strong enough to stop it, so after tonight—no, tomorrow—I’d have to distance myself. Which was going to be nearly impossible since I lived with him.

  “Don’t tell me you’re okay when you’re not.”

  “I’m—”

  “Your heart is going at a million miles an hour.”

  “I just can’t sleep. It’s nothing.” This was the lie I’d been telling for nearly three years. It was stale and bitter on my tongue.

  “I’d prefer you tell me you don’t want to talk about it than lie to me.” He sounded more awake now, his voice somber.

  “Today. It was . . .” I was uncertain how to put it all into words.

  The garage.

  The dinner.

  The shower.

  The feelings.

  “Yeah. It was.” He drew circles on my lower back with one hand and massaged my scalp with the other.

  “Why’d your sister get so angry with you at dinner?”

  Holt tensed. “Jack, her husband, was killed in Afghanistan. She’d told him she was pregnant the day before.”

  The way she’d lashed out made more sense. How could anyone get over that?

  “At least he knew he was going to be a dad.” That was a stupid thing to say. A boy would never know his father. A wife would never get over losing her husband.

  “That’s what I said when I found out. Marlow didn’t take too well to a positive spin.”

  We were quiet for a long moment, a heaviness in the air. There was nothing to make the situation any better.

  “It’s killing her. She loves Blake, but I don’t think it’s enough.” He wrapped both arms around me and buried his nose in my hair. “I shouldn’t have brought him up. Not like that.”

  “You don’t want her to hurt anymore.”

  “No. I’d take his place in a heartbeat if it would take her pain away. My nephew deserves a dad.”

  “And what about you? Don’t you deserve a life?”

  “He was a great guy. Looked after Marlow. Made her happy. He’d have been a great father too. Jack was more of a man than I ever hope to be.” A hint of self-loathing I’d never heard before from Holt tainted his words.

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “Well, he was damn close. Died fighting for his country. That takes the kind of guts I’d never have.”

  “Bravery comes in a lot of different forms,” I said quietly.

  He gently moved me off him and onto the mattress. “I need some water. You want anything?”

  “No.”

  Holt picked up his sweatpants off the floor and pulled them up over his hips. Instead of heading toward the kitchen, he crossed the hall to my bedroom. I rolled over on my side to face the door.

  * * *

  In a few minutes he emerged. I expected him to return immediately with a bottle of water, but as I waited, my lids grew too heavy to keep them open. The bed was cold without him.

  And so was I.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Holt

  I’d just grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter when Baker appeared.

  Her hair was in that messy bun. She wore only my T-shirt, and my eyes betrayed me, running up the length of her body, when I was supposed to be headed for the door.

  Damn it.

  “Trying to sneak off?”

  She flashed me a teasing grin, but there was unce
rtainty in her voice. Well there should be because, yes, I was most definitely sneaking off.

  “I need to be on time. Knew if you ended up in the shower with me, I definitely wouldn’t be.” That was at least the truth.

  She closed the distance between us and placed both hands on my chest. “I didn’t pack your lunch yet.”

  My throat worked, and I felt what little control I had slipping as she stared up at me. I grasped the edge of the counter. If I touched her, it would be all over.

  “Still spoiling me, Easy.”

  “Hmm. Seems to me I’m falling down on the job.”

  I white-knuckled the granite when all I wanted to do was rip that shirt straight down the middle.

  “I gotta go.” Even I didn’t believe me. And I really did need to leave.

  “Give me two minutes.” She held up her fingers in a V.

  I regretted the second her hands were off of me.

  She sauntered over to the fridge and bent over in search of something inside. A peek of her ass cheeks teased me. Now that I knew what they felt like in my hands, I only wanted more.

  “There ain’t much in that refrigerator, Easy.”

  She tossed a look at me over the shoulder. “View not to your liking, Grease Monkey?”

  “The view is most definitely not the problem.”

  She turned back around and resumed rummaging. “Oh no?”

  “Nope. The problem is that I don’t have time to show you how much I appreciate it.”

  Baker straightened and kicked the refrigerator door shut with her heel. “Then you better hurry up and become the boss so you’ll have time to do whatever you want.”

  She turned her back to me and stuffed a box into a brown paper bag. She began to close it, abruptly stopped, grabbed a couple of bottled waters from the fridge, dropped them in the bag, then strutted back over to me.

  She held it out to me, but didn’t let go when I latched onto the fold.

  “Thank you.”

  Her eyes smoldered. I was two seconds away from saying to hell with everything and staying home in bed with her.

  “Have a good day.”

  I pulled on the bag and still she didn’t let go.

  “This for me or you?”

  “You.”

  “You gonna let me have it?”

  She smirked. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “What you’re willing to do to get it?”

  I swallowed my groan. Anything. And she damn well knew it.

  “Easy, if you want something from me, all you have to do is ask.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t think I want to ask.”

  “I don’t need you to anyway.”

  Her lips parted. I knew what she needed. Better than she did.

  “I don’t think I want something from you. I think I want to give you something.”

  I prepared myself for whatever she had in mind. Mischief was in those pretty eyes.

  She rolled up on her toes, wound her arms around my neck, and kissed me like she’d never have the chance to again.

  I dropped my lunch on the counter, hoisted her up by the hips, and set her beside it. She locked her ankles on my lower back. I threaded my fingers through the base of the knot on top of her head and slanted my mouth over hers.

  Her moan vibrated through me. I deepened the kiss in response, unable to stop whatever this madness was.

  She slid to the edge of the counter. I pressed my erection against her center, cursing the fabric that separated us. Baker fumbled with the zipper on my coveralls, had it halfway off my arms when I came to my senses.

  I grabbed both of her wrists with one hand. “No time,” I panted.

  “I need you.”

  It was a soft plea that shot straight to my heart. How was I supposed to say no to that?

  “Easy.”

  I was torn between my need to please her and going to work.

  She buried her forehead against my chest. “Go to work,” she mumbled.

  Her legs fell to my sides, and she wrestled until I released her wrists. She straightened my coveralls while I looked on in irritation.

  I clasped her face and kissed her hard. “I gotta go.”

  I snatched my lunch and slammed the door harder than necessary on the way out.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit,” I said as I stepped inside the elevator.

  “Must be trying to live with a beautiful woman.”

  I snapped my head up to find Daniel Elliott propped against the wall. I held the lunch sack in front of my crotch. He smirked, knowing damn well what I was doing.

  “You have no idea,” I muttered.

  “I’ve got a pretty good one.”

  His wife was stunning, and from what I’d seen, she didn’t put up with any shit. But my landlords seemed happy. More than happy.

  I grunted in response and stared at the mirrored wall ahead.

  “Apartment okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s great. Baker and I both appreciate you letting us lease the place.” Now I was speaking on her behalf? This shit was getting out of hand.

  “Have you had a chance to work on the remodel?”

  “Not yet. Can’t seem to find the time.”

  “I’ll have a plumber come by.”

  “No,” I said quickly. One brow lifted. “I want to do it myself. Least I can do for the discounted rent.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I insisted.

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind—”

  “I won’t.”

  “Come for dinner soon. The invitation is standing. We start at six thirty.”

  I got the impression I wasn’t meant to turn him down. “Sure thing. But I haven’t been getting home until after seven lately. I’ll tell Baker though.”

  “Let your family know too.”

  The elevator doors slid open, and he gestured for me to go first.

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you like a ride?”

  I glanced down at my stained coveralls. “No. I’m good. I appreciate it.”

  He nodded at the doorman as we exited onto the sidewalk. A black car was waiting at the curb.

  “When it comes to your roommate, you might as well stop fighting it now. You’ll save yourself a lot of trouble down the road.”

  “Fighting what?” I played dumb, and judging by his smirk, he saw right through it.

  “Have it your way. But I promise, one way or the other, you’ll end up with her.”

  “I can’t imagine why you’d think that.”

  “Because I’ve been in your shoes. Doesn’t matter how much you deny that you need her. The truth is the truth. And it always comes to light.”

  He slid into the back of the car, and I stared after it as the vehicle moved into traffic.

  Denial.

  I wasn’t denying anything. I knew exactly what Baker did to me. The problem was I didn’t know how to keep her.

  She’d leave just like everyone else did.

  “We drifted apart, Holt. You were always working.”

  I’d asked myself a million times if that were true. If the problems had been my fault. I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t totally sure.

  Regardless of who was to blame, I‘d been hurt, and I couldn’t take it if Baker left me too. I’d planned to keep it casual, but that was shot to hell somewhere between the time I’d met her and when we’d agreed to be roommates.

  “Fuck.”

  This morning . . . what man wouldn’t want a send-off like that every day of his life? She was doing a lot more than spoiling me. Baker gave me hope for things that weren’t possible. Not for me.

  * * *

  “There’s somebody here to see you.” Ed jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the office as soon as I stepped inside the bay.

  “You recognize them?”

  “A woman. That’s all I know.”

  Baker? Nah. There was no way she beat
me here.

  Marlow? Maybe my sister wasn’t as stubborn as I thought. I smiled at the thought of her coming to apologize. If she had, I’d let yesterday go. Give her an apology of my own.

  The door squeaked when I moved from the garage to the waiting area. I froze in the doorway when she pivoted.

  “Hello, son.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Baker

  “What’s this about a makeup line?”

  I sat up straight at the architectural desk, layouts spread before me. Hayden leaned over my shoulder and pointed to one.

  “That’s quite good, don’t you think?”

  I turned to her and grinned. “It’s my favorite.”

  My boss returned the smile. She was an icon in the publishing industry. She’d started the magazine while she was in college and built it from zero subscribers to the millions we had today. Hayden was tough, but she had respect for people I admired.

  “Let’s make that photo the cover.”

  “Already in my pile of possibilities.” I moved it to the top corner of the desk to make sure it stayed separated.

  “Let’s get a coffee. We haven’t had a chance to talk lately. Crazy busy, right?”

  Her time was limited so when she gave me so much of it, it meant more than she knew.

  “Always.”

  “I could use a change of scenery.”

  * * *

  We walked in silence a few blocks to the small coffee shop we frequented.

  Hayden blew on her cappuccino before taking a sip. She looked at me over the mug, astute eyes studying me.

  “The ladies at Paths are all abuzz about this makeup made by someone I thought would share it with me first.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the heat on my cheeks nothing to do with the coffee. “I’m still testing. And Annmarie is the one who showed me how to make lip gloss. I’ve researched to expand into other things.”

  She rifled through her purse and pulled out a small container I recognized. “The product is good.” She unscrewed the lid and dabbed her pinky into the shade I knew to be Grease Monkey. “The texture. Color. Longevity. Feel. It’s all very good. Especially for something homemade.”