“Take me now, Byron.”
And he thrust in me, hard. I moaned and tightened my thighs against his strong waist. He growled in my neck, his scruff scratching my neck lightly and painfully. “I can’t do slow and sweet, London,” he said, his words strained as his hips were circling while I was adjusting to him. “I want to fuck you hard and deep and wild.”
I moved my hips, and he pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, harder than before. The head of his bed banged on the wall. It’s too good. It’s not normal.
“Fuck, Byron! Faster,’’ I moaned after he thrust back inside me for the fourth time, the bed still banging against the wall.
He growled, dug his fingers on my hipbone, partially hidden by my fat, and accelerated his thrusts. And we lost all control. “London!” he growled in my neck, a drop of sweat fell onto my chest.
Our bodies covered by sweat were slippery against each other. He accelerated even more of his thrusts, his body slapping against mine, punctuated by the loud bang of the bed against the wall. I was moaning louder and louder. My vision was getting blurry. My nails and hands were sliding in his back, over his broad shoulders and down to his backside, flexing in and out, always faster. He was so deep; it almost hurt, and that felt all the more amazing.
“London, come now,” he panted, a hand tugging on my short hair. This little pain shot straight to my core. “Fuck, London. Come.”
And everything exploded in me. I couldn’t see anything anymore. All the muscles in my body tensed. “Byron! Byron!” I cried out barely able to articulate.
“Fuck, London! Fuck!” He thrust two last times, erratic and stilled. The muscles corded in his thick neck. His biceps bulged out next to my body. His back arched out. His face tensed and relaxed, his cheeks flushed and his parted lips were red and swollen. And his eyes … they were shining, sending all kind of mute messages that could make me blush madly if I wasn’t sated and limp after a major orgasm.
Our breathing was loud, but we were awfully quiet, taking each other in intently. I already felt the awkwardness after sex, and he was still inside me. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms over my naked breasts. He nodded, message received. He pulled out and put away the condom in the trash can, conveniently next to his bed.
I had sex with Byron. I had sex with the guy I’m living with. It’s going to be weird. I couldn’t look away from his ceiling. If I did, I’d see him. Shit, I needed to get my clothes and get out. Now. I stood up and focused on the ground, following the trail of our clothes to the living room, not once turning around to glance at my roommate. It was useless; I felt his eyes on me the whole time, and I was trying to put on my bra as quickly as possible. With my stomach in my heels and my clothes in hands, I closed my bedroom door behind me and leaned against it. Oh. My. God.
Chapter Thirteen
DAY 23
I was freaking out, the kind when I was trying to grab full hands of hair, but because it’s too short, I ended up tugging painfully on my bangs until my eyes stung. It’s better than being on the edge of crying ugly tears like I was about to five minutes ago when I left Byron’s bedroom with my bare ass to his eyes and my clothes in my shaking hands.
I slept with Byron. I really slept with him!
Something broke in my head when I had the most incredible orgasm of my life with the last person on this planet I should have it with. Now, my brain wasn’t working well. All I could think about was the sex with him and how it made me feel. Granted, now I was not far from banging my head against the walls―which wasn’t very sane―but when we were in his bed going at it … I never felt so good. I was not just talking about what he did with his mouth, fingers and other delicious parts of him. For once, I didn’t feel used, which was quite ironic because it was meaningless sex, the casual kind with the guy who could have created that kind of sex. Though, the main difference from when I was with Ryan was that I felt Byron was respecting me and even worshipping me in a way. Ryan was never like that. He took what he wanted and smirked at me while putting back on his pants and leaving me alone without any parting words. Byron was not that kind of guy, or at least he wasn’t with me.
I took a deep breath and put fresh clothes on. Old jeans that were on the far corner of my dresser in a ball and a black tee shirt from the Muse gig I went to last year would be good enough. I glanced at myself on the little mirror glued on the door, and my blush deepened. I was glowing. Damn it! Could it be more obvious that I was fucked today?
I grabbed my phone, my keys, and my red handbag and ran out of the apartment. I released my breath once I reached the parking lot. He was still in his bedroom when I ran away like a maniac. I was acting like a lunatic or … like a lost girl who just played a game way out of her league.
The sun was back and high in the sky. My eyes hurt from the hot rays, and of course, I forgot my beautiful designer sunglasses in my haste to leave. I opened my car and didn’t wait to turn on the AC. The radio turned on and Addicted by Saving Abel began to play. They never played this song anymore, and it was today of all days that they decided to play this one! I tried to ignore the sexy lyrics and drove away toward Macon’s dorm. I needed my best friend even if I knew he’d be relentless to tease me and annoy the hell out of me, but he was the only one who really understood me. That’s not entirely true because I knew my sister would be there, too, but my little sister was way too young for that kind of talk.
I speed dialed Macon, and he answered on the first ring. Bless him.
“Baby? Is everything all right?”
“Ha!” I squeaked and turned down the radio. I couldn’t even manage a full sentence. Did I have a stroke some time between me calling out Byron’s name and trying to come down from this rush?
“Uh … is that supposed to be some English dialect I’m not aware of?” he asked me softly, his voice mildly amused. But with the way he rushed his words, I knew it was a façade. He was worried, but didn’t want to show it, which meant that he wasn’t alone. Was he with the guy he told me about? That would be my luck.
“Can I come or are you busy?”
“Hey, you know I’m never busy for you. What is going on?”
I could hear some noises behind his voice and a door closing. I felt bad, worse than before now. I was so self-centered that I never thought about Macon’s plans before now. “I can stop by later, Macon. Don’t worry; it’s not urgent.”
“Stop that shit, baby. I expect you in ten minutes, or else I’m going to kill you because I had to make my guy leave when I finally convinced him to come over.”
“He’s your guy now?”
“He will be soon, and he knows it. He’s just playing hard to get, and I like it.”
“I’m parking. I’ll be up in a few.” I turned off my car and sighed. I could always count on my best friend. He was the best.
“And don’t try to ask me anything because that’s not the reason you’re here. I don’t like that voice of yours. You sound …”
“Lost? Afraid? Angry?”
“All of the above.”
I shook my head and hung up when his laughter didn’t calm down. I sighed and jumped out of my car when three guys left the building. I ran to the door closing fast, my bag jumping around at each of my steps and colliding with my hip and my keys making so much noise in my hand that I could never be discreet if I wanted to.
In the hall, I had to lean against the wall. I was so out of shape that it wasn’t even funny. My labored breathing was so loud that it must have attracted all the attention on me. If only there had been somebody to monitor the in and out of students. I forgot that this building was known to be more lenient.
I walked to the elevator, and I was lucky to find it still on the first floor. I climbed inside and pushed the button for the third floor. Even if I wasn’t one to be afraid of everything, the noises of old metallic pieces of junk clinking against each other weren’t exactly things to make me feel safe. At least it gave me a break from freaking out because of wha
t happened earlier.
Macon was waiting for me at his door, his big arms crossed over his chest. His hair was in the same disarray as usual, but his jaw was less hidden this time. He probably shaved yesterday. His smile froze when he took a good look at my face, and before I could say something, his booming laughter startled me—and a group of five or six guys down the hall.
He grabbed my elbow, led me in his room that was very tidy—contrary to his appearance, Macon was a neat freak—and closed the door behind me. He tilted my head up, and his bright chocolate eyes made me squirm. That guy could read me like an open book.
“You slept with Byron.” He shook his head and sat on his bed. “I knew it would come to this!”
“Bravo. You can open a psychic shop. Congrats!” I replied flippantly, my sense of humor forgotten in Byron’s bed, next to his warm and incredible body.
Macon forced me to sit next to him, and he hugged me side ways. I snuggled closer to him, hiding my face in his chest. He sighed deeply, and I couldn’t help but hear some sort of contempt.
“Who knew you needed a former soldier in your bed to convince you to get laid.”
I sat straighter and pushed him away. He lay down and chuckled. “The older you get, the more I think you’re gross and obsessed by sex.”
“Baby, with a man like the one you live with, you can’t expect me to not have a hard on whenever we talk about him or whenever he’s in the same room.” He rubbed my back softly, trying to ease my nerves, but I was too far gone. Everything had gone too far.
“Go ask him if he’s interested in having a new sexual experience. I’m sure that’s the one thing he’s never tried,” I said absentmindedly. It was more for show than what I really felt. I didn’t want to go and joke about it, about him. I was faking it, and Macon knew.
“If I thought he’d accept, I would have already have asked.”
“Do you know you’re talking about a man I slept with?” I asked, startled by his words and beyond weirded out. Macon never talked like this about a guy I had an interest in, even the ones I just kissed without tongue.
“Speaking of, baby, is he good?”
“What do you think?” I rolled my eyes. Even a Macon in love was an obsessed Macon. Nothing would change him.
“I bet he’s a sex god with a hell of a lot of stamina,” he replied dreamily, his eyes getting lost in what I preferred not to imagine.
I sighed, nodded, and made a wide and wild gesture with my hands. “And now I won’t be able to look at him without thinking about it. It’s like my brain is always imagining new locations where Byron would take me, new ways to fuck me.” And that was true. Just on the way up in the building, I thought about what could happen in the kitchen, on the coffee table, and on the comfy couch. I would never look at that couch the same way from now on.
“It must be awful, baby. Having wild fantasies about your roommate is real torture,” he mocked me, nodding his head twice with a smirk.
“Shut up, Macon!” I slapped his stomach half-heartedly.
He held up his hands in surrender. “I get it. It’s annoying since you’re living with the guy, but at least you’re sated. You can say that you slept with another guy beside the king of assholes named Ryan.”
I groaned, not very sweetly, and ran a hand through my long bangs. “But I feel horny whenever Byron is close, and he knows what effect he has on me. And that was before we had sex together.”
He weighted this for a second and nodded. “Okay, maybe it is torture, baby.”
“Thank you.”
“Which means you’ll sleep with him again, soon.” His devious smile was not for my liking.
“No. Oh, no!” I shook my head wildly and crossed my chubby arms over my chest. It would never happen again.
“That’s what you said the last time.”
“I just need to find a guy to fuck me for a whole night, and I’ll be all set for a few weeks. Easy,” I replied sure of myself. Or as sure as I could be.
“If you say so, baby.” The doubt in his voice made me want to strangle him, but his best friend status saved him. I sent him a nasty glare that only made him chuckle before he hugged me. “Tell me you didn’t run away from him.”
“Because it sounds so like me to stay and have a nice little chat with him while we’re both naked? Seriously, Macon, you know me.”
“You ran away,” he said before he slapped me behind the head. “It’s unbelievable to act like such a kid.”
My naughty mind never far, I couldn’t help the chuckle building. “I wasn’t acting like a kid at all earlier.”
“Details?”
“In your dreams, perv.”
“If you don’t want to give me any details, then go back home and talk with him.”
I stood up in a jump and paced his little room with only one bed, a perk he had as a Resident Advisor. I couldn’t imagine what kind of advice he gave other guys. Macon was such a riot sometimes that I was sure he played the guys many times with silly advice. And yet, Macon was a guy everybody liked. Unlike me. I supposed that my personality would frighten the less strong.
“I’m sure he’s going to want me to move out.”
“Stop pacing, baby, you’re making me dizzy.” I stopped and sat on his desk chair, turning around to face him on his bed. “Even if he asks you to move out, it’s not the end of the world.”
I could feel my frown deepened. “I don’t want to live with my parents.”
“And that’s the whole reason for this crazy behavior of yours? It’s because you don’t want to go back to your family’s house?”
I chewed on my lower lip and tilted my head on one side. My heart beating wildly in my chest, the air felt almost solid in my lungs. “I’m afraid to want more.”
“With Byron?”
I nodded and hid my heated face behind my hands. It’s not like I wanted a relationship or anything like that, but I was sure that I wanted more sex with Byron. That in itself wouldn’t be the end of the world if only I knew what he wanted and if I could accept him having sex with other, way prettier, girls while I was in the room next door. I wasn’t that kind of girl. And there was that other problem … what if I fell for Byron? After all, the only other guy I slept with was Ryan, and I was head over heels for him.
“Baby, one day you will want more with a guy, and if it’s Byron, you could have decided on someone worse.”
“He’s not relationship material, and us together would be a fucking disaster. Always bickering, we’re unable to have a serious talk.” I waved around, unable to keep my hands still. I was a nervous wreck.
“Are you trying to convince yourself?”
“No, because I don’t feel that way for him, but I’m afraid that it could change.” I took a deep breath, and of course it didn’t calm my heartbeat. “And I’m afraid that he’ll play games with me now that we had sex. He knows how to push the right buttons.”
Macon stood up and put both hands on my shoulders. His chocolate eyes were not laughing anymore. “You’re strong, baby. Don’t be afraid, and if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“What should I do, Macon?”
He leaned down, kissed me on my forehead and squeezed my shoulders. “Go back home and act like nothing happened. See how it goes, and play it by ear.”
“You suck with your advice.”
He laughed, and I stood up, my legs still shaking. I had no other choice but to go back home. After all, I was sure that Byron was fine with everything and proud that he got to me, but he would never freak out like I did. Sex for him was part of his day-to-day life. I closed my eyes at the pain stabbing me in my chest. I was just another notch on his bedpost.
Chapter Fourteen
DAY 23
Keys in my hand ready to unlock the door, I braced myself against the wall. If he was already with another girl, I would lose it. No matter how I praised myself for my lack of female-like crazy behavior, I had my pride. It would be awful to think that a couple of hours after he wa
s inside me, he was inside someone else. And it would be utterly gross. Just that thought made me ill to my stomach.
I shook my head and unlocked the door, ready for what felt like a big fight bound to happen at some point. Things couldn’t be the same from now on. Speaking for myself, I knew I’d be unable to chase away these images of Byron above me, doing things to my body, things I didn’t want to ever admit that I craved all over again and more.
I stepped in and found Byron on the couch, chilling while watching a rerun of an episode of a TV series I’d never admit I loved to watch — Falling Skies. He was wearing blue jeans and a brown tee shirt, and his bare feet were on the coffee table while his left hand was holding a fresh beer almost empty.
When his blue eyes turned to me, I felt warmth spreading everywhere in my body, tingling my core and leaving me weak in the knees as I was still standing like an idiot in front of him. His mouth, so amazing when he nipped at my lips, turned up on one side.
“Is my hotness leaving you speechless?” he asked, teasing me as his growl of a voice zapped me. I was morphing into a puddle though I didn’t like it at all. Where was my control? Where was my wit? Where was my strength? I left all of these in bed with him, and I couldn’t risk losing more of myself. It was dangerous. And he wasn’t the kind of guy I could risk everything for. I needed a sweet guy, someone not as rough and easier to talk to. I needed someone safe.
And at that very moment, I made a decision. Macon was right, it was best to play like nothing happened because both Byron and I weren’t the kind to have an open hearted talk and dissect everything. I had to go back to my old self and ignore the stirring inside me. Nothing new there since I met my roomy.
I walked to the kitchen counter and dropped my handbag on the high stool before throwing my keys on the counter. The noise drowning out the TV was buying me some time to gather, and convince, myself that I wasn’t about to self-combust. Nope, what I felt was just a hundred times more powerful lust than what I felt before sleeping with him. Nothing to be worried about! Yeah, right.
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