by Malone, M.
More than that, she was cute. Like, really cute. And funny. Maybe the two of us could work something out like adults.
Like fuck buddies.
No. My dick twitched as if to say, hell, yes.
Shit, I didn't know. I rubbed my eyes. I didn't know anything right now.
She opened her door and shuffled out in her pajamas. Oh, so she’d gotten dressed along the way. Because last I saw her at about five this morning, she was in her bra and panties. Lush curves spilling over the top of flimsy lace.
No. Not going there. I wasn’t going to remember a damn thing about the softness of her skin as I’d held her until she went to sleep. Or the little contented sighs she made when she was dreaming. Or the way her bow-shaped lips parted as she slept. Nope. I was just going to continue making breakfast and keep my hands busy, so maybe I wouldn’t lose my control and screw her on the nearest flat surface.
"Morning. I made breakfast. Nothing like a big breakfast to help soak up all that alcohol."
She jumped when I spoke, and I frowned. Maybe she was embarrassed about what happened last night?
"You made me breakfast?"
I shrugged. "Well, I needed to eat. And I figured you probably weren’t feeling so hot this morning, so I made extra. It's no big deal."
She still had yet to meet my gaze when she joined me at the kitchen island and dragged out a stool. Okay, so we were going to have to talk about it.
I dragged in a steadying breath. "About last night. It's not a big deal, okay? How about we both just forget it happened, and how drunk you were. Okay? Like a reboot."
Her gaze flickered to mine, and then skittered away again. "Yep, got it. Reboot. Done."
She still wouldn't look at me.
It bugged me, and part of me wanted to make her meet my eyes. But maybe the two of us had been sniping at each other for too long. It’s not like she knew she was starring in my fantasies and giving me an epic case of blue balls. That was on me. I was the one who needed to get my shit together. So I extended an olive branch.
"I'm off today. I figured you and I haven't actually gotten a chance to know each other yet properly. So what better way than with a bad action movie marathon? How do you feel about a little Cyborg?"
This time, she did meet my gaze. And then she turned bright pink. "Okay. I do need to go to the library later, though. I'm supposed to meet Alex for a study session."
"Okay, what time?"
She shook her head. "Not until four."
I didn’t know why, but I was really happy she didn't have to go until later this afternoon. "That's hours away. Prepare yourself for some classic bad action lines."
Her gaze skittered back to her plate. "Thank you for breakfast. My stomach was threatening to revolt. I’ll grab a shower after the first movie.”
"Sounds like the perfect plan. A lazy day getting to know my roomie." I tried to sound chipper. Fuck, I had to try. Maybe if we were friends, I wouldn’t be so damned obsessed with her. Yeah, good luck with that.
We worked in companionable silence cleaning up after breakfast. Despite myself, I liked having her as a roommate. After Courtney, I’d thought I’d hate having someone else around. But it wasn’t bad. My extracurricular shower activities notwithstanding, obviously.
She was considerate, neat, and for the most part I didn’t notice she was there, really. Except for the candles. They made the place smell nice. Like her. And she could cook. She always labeled things with notes like, “I made extra, help yourself.”
And you’ve been a twat to her.
Yeah, I had been. But that was going to change now.
When we settled in for the movie, she parked it on the couch as far away from me as humanly possible, and curled herself up into a tight little ball.
It wasn’t like I could blame her, though. Twice now, I’d practically mauled her. More like you practically mauled each other. Just thinking about it had my dick standing at attention.
I was suddenly glad I’d already changed into jeans after my shower. That shit would be impossible to hide in sweatpants.
We’d figure this out eventually. The two of us could settle in. We needed to. We were grown-ups, after all. Barely. But it couldn't be that hard. We were both smart, knew what we wanted, and while we’d slipped and made out a couple of times, that wasn't going to define us.
The two of us could get along and keep our hands to ourselves. We could hang out, be friendly, even. Watching movies like this was fine.
I slid my gaze over her and noticed how long the column of her throat was. So delicate. I wanted to kiss that spot just behind her ear.
Fuck. I snapped my gaze forward, forcing it back to the television. What the hell was wrong with me? All during breakfast, I’d had to battle myself not to stare at her tits. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so that was one hell of a herculean effort.
She had her robe mostly pulled around her, but with every move and jostle, my peripheral vision had noted the bounce, and it made me salivate. Did she like her nipples licked? Did she like a gentle touch? A firm one? Jesus Christ, just thinking about pinching her nipples had me clearing my throat and adjusting my jeans.
I let another gaze wander over, trying to ascertain if she had any idea of the direction of my thoughts, but she wasn’t even paying attention to me. Instead, she was mouthing the words that Van Damme spoke on the screen.
I blinked. "Seriously, you know all the words?"
Natalie grinned. "Yeah. Is that bad?"
I chuckled, even as I shook my head. "Nope. Not at all. But one would think you would save the memorization of lines for movies that deserve it. You know, more highbrow action movies, like Rocky."
"Oh, I do. I know all the words to Rambo, too."
Was she for real? Because I might be a bit in love with her. She was the perfect girl rolled into one. Hot as fuck, smart, had that nerdy thing going for her, and she also liked action movies. Come on. It was like my own personal walking, talking wet dream.
If she told me she knew how to code in C++ as well, I might come right now. Just like that. Just from that knowledge alone.
After we finished the first movie, we switched to Segal. Several times one or both of us would grab a snack, a drink, use the bathroom. But we always returned to the couch, sitting closer and closer than before, eventually sharing a blanket. I liked being this close to her. She smelled so goddamned good. Strawberries and something else.
It was driving me fucking insane. To wake up to that smell had been pure torture on my dick. Which was why I'd already taken care of that little problem once this morning.
Okay, fine. Twice, if I was being honest.
After I’d left her room at five o’clock, I’d tried to go back to my own bed. Problem was, all I could smell all over my body was Natalie. The strawberries. All I could feel was her skin, her hair. So I’d taken hold of my dick and tried to cure the problem.
Never mind that I’d told Cage that I wouldn't anymore. That I’d find someone else to screw. I didn't want to screw anyone else. I wanted to screw Natalie.
But you can't.
Yeah, well, I’d tried telling my dick that. Fucker was in no mood to listen. But if we were friends, maybe this insane, torturous need would stop. Maybe once I saw her as a real person, I would stop thinking about all the different ways to fuck her.
Like right now, I could drag her under me, tug the pajama bottoms down, unzip my jeans, and fuck her on the couch. Or even better, she could climb on top of my lap. That fantasy had been long-running. And that way her tits would bounce in my face. Or I could bend her over the back of the couch and slide my dick in her—No. Stop it.
Jesus Christ. I was going insane. If I kept this up, I would need another fucking shower. And seriously, that shit was getting out of hand. Even I knew I had a problem now.
Question was, what the fuck was I going to do about it? Because you still can't fuck her. There would be no fucking winning with this one. Especially not since she was my advisor's niece
. And especially not since I liked her. Too much.
At the end of the movie, she stretched her arms overhead, arching her back, pretty much putting her tits on display. I couldn't help it. Shit, I tried. I really, really did. But my gaze wandered over and landed directly on the most perfect pair of breasts I'd ever seen.
And, holy fuck, her nipples were hard. I couldn't help it. I licked my lips, wondering if she was cold, or if it was something else. Like maybe she was feeling the tension between us and wanted me too?
Yeah, I was a douchebag. I knew it. And for the first time, I was a little ashamed by it. I didn't want to be having these constant thoughts about her. Fuck, I wasn’t used to being like this with any girl.
Usually when I wanted someone, that shit was easy. Smile, flirt, next thing I knew, some girl was handing me her panties and bending over, climbing on top of me, or sucking my dick. It was all pretty easy. And then I’d gotten into a relationship and had my heart torn out. Yeah, I wasn’t exactly eager to repeat that experience.
Natalie was different. But I’d thought that about Courtney, too.
I shoved the thought aside when she pushed herself to her feet. "I’m going to take a shower. I’ve spent far too long in my pajamas."
I grinned at her. “But they're so cute, though. Kittens look good on you."
She flushed and rolled her eyes, heading straight for her bedroom.
It would really be best if I did not think about her naked and soaped up in the shower. But as the water turned on, that's exactly how I imagined her.
Because you’re a dick.
Yes. I was. And I was now a tortured dick, so life was a bitch.
For some reason, though, her shower stopped. She came back out in a robe holding her shower stuff. "I’m getting nothing but cold water. Do you mind if I—if—maybe I could—use your shower again?"
"Yeah. Of course.”
She flushed and didn’t meet my gaze as she shuffled past me to my bedroom.
What was wrong with her? I frowned at her as she hustled into my bedroom. And then a thought slithered into my mind.
Oh, shit. Had she—? No.
There was no way she could hear me. When I heard the water in the shower turn on, I double checked to make sure that she wasn’t coming out, and went into her bedroom. As I drew closer to the bed, my stomach plummeted.
Oh, I could hear the shower, all right. I could also hear her humming to herself.
I could hear everything.
Which meant she'd heard everything.
Everything I'd done from the moment she moved in, she’d heard it all if she'd been in her bedroom.
My skin burned. She’d definitely been in her bedroom this morning when I took a shower. So she’d heard me calling her name. Heard me telling the imaginary Natalie to suck my dick.
Fuck!
This was so bad. She’d known all along. Known I wanted her. Frantically, my mind searched my memory banks. That was probably the reason she couldn’t look me in the eye.
I headed back to the living room, and ran for the couch when I heard the water turn off. Plopping onto it just as she came out, her hair wet, robe tied tightly around her waist.
"You were able to find some hot water?"
She nodded "Yeah, thanks for that. Do I need to call the super?"
I shook my head. "You get ready to go to the library. I'll give him a call."
"Thank you. I appreciate it.” Again her gaze skittered away from mine.
She was dressed in a skirt and T-shirt with her Converse on and had her hair in her classic ponytail in less than ten minutes. "Well, I'll see you later. Thanks for today. Breakfast and everything. It was exactly what I needed. And thanks for forgetting all about, you know, last night."
Yeah, forgetting about it. The hell I was. "Yeah, of course. Have a good study session."
She licked her lips, and she didn't look like she wanted to go anywhere.
"Is there something else you needed?"
She shifted on her feet. "You're sure that nothing else happened last night? My memory is still foggy. I didn't do anything, did I?"
I was unsure what she was talking about, but I wanted to assuage her fears. "Nothing happened."
She nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later."
I watched her walk out. I wanted her. She wanted me, too. Maybe forgetting about last night was the last thing we needed to do.
She’d been listening to me all this time, and last night, she’d made a move. Maybe it was time to pay her a little visit at the library.
9
It wasn’t exactly like I was running away. But the library felt like a retreat. Trevor had been really sweet today, considering everything that happened the previous night. But if I’d been confined with him for another minute, I was going to lose my damned mind.
Through the series of three movies, all I could think about was the way he’d said my name in the shower. How could I be expected to hang out with him after that? As if everything was cool. Like nothing had happened.
So of course, instead of concentrating, I’d kept thinking about all the ways he could touch me. At one point, it had made my nipples hard. Trevor Hamilton was walking, talking, breathing sex appeal, and I was only so strong.
But add in the sweet stuff too, and I was going to fold like a house of cards and beg him to screw me silly. For the love of God, the man had fed me. So what? You feed him all the time. I shoved aside the rational part of my brain. It did make sense, if I was cooking, to make extra. But this was different. He’d deliberately cooked for me. To help me feel better.
My phone chimed and I lunged for it, a part of me thinking that it might be Trevor, asking me what I wanted for dinner.
No, idiot, he is not your boyfriend. This is not how these things happen.
The shitty thing was, I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. After Brian, all I wanted to do was focus on school, and break out of my shell a little. A boyfriend wasn’t part of the bargain. And doing things on my own terms would be hard with a boyfriend. Not to mention, Trevor was just like Brian.
He had the smarts, and he beat Brian by miles in the looks department. Someone that hot would burn me eventually. And finding another apartment in the city would be next to impossible. So no screwing my roommate. It was a simple rule…but why was I finding it so hard to stick to?
I swallowed disappointment that the text wasn’t from Trevor. It was Alex, telling me he was running late.
I sighed and was glad I’d brought other coursework along. I managed to work for another thirty minutes before my phone chimed again. This time it was Trevor. Just seeing his name come up on the screen had my heart doing a flippy thing. I had it bad.
Trevor: Meet me on the third floor.
I frowned. He was here? Why? I glanced around the library. It wasn't exactly empty, but there weren’t many people around. Why did he want to meet me on the third floor? Nobody ever went up there. The upperclassmen liked to freak out the freshmen and tell them it was haunted.
Nevertheless, I grabbed my phone and headed to the third floor. The floor was only partially lit, the auxiliary lights coming on the further down the stacks I walked. Quietly, I called out his name. "Trevor?”
There was no answer at first, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. This was probably the start to some horror movie. He better not be screwing with me, lest I go all Carrie on his ass.
As most of the library was digitized now, the only people who ever came up here were the history majors who needed some obscure text. The emptiness gave it an extra-eerie feeling as my tennis shoes squeaked on the linoleum. “Damn it, Trevor, where are you?”
The lighted distance between the stacks was shorter and shorter now. If I wanted to extend them, all I had to do was press a button, but there was clearly no one down at this end.
Suddenly, he stepped out of one of the darkened stacks. “I’m right here. You don’t have to shout."
I clutched my chest as I whirled around. “
Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” I hit him, and didn’t miss the fact that he was all hard muscle beneath his T-shirt. “What do you want? Why are we meeting up here? You couldn’t just call?”
He licked his lips. "Well, when you were leaving earlier, it occurred to me that maybe we had more to talk about.”
“Something you couldn’t talk to me about downstairs?”
He took my hand and tugged me into the shadows. When he bracketed me against a shelf with both arms, I swallowed hard. Why did he smell so good? It made it impossible to think with him around.
"We could go back downstairs and talk about how you’ve been hearing everything in the shower. You want me to discuss that around your study buds? You want me talking about how you can hear me, and what I’ve been saying?
My face went up in proverbial flames. I was probably a lovely shade of lobster right now. “Oh geez, you know?”
“Well, I figured it out after you went to shower in my bathroom and you wouldn’t look at me.”
I covered my face with my hands. “Oh my God. Do we have to talk about this?”
He worked his jaw. "You’ve been hearing me every day.”
"Not every day. Just, you know, the days when you're in the shower and I’m in the room." I shifted my gaze away.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You made it clear you didn’t like me, and you had zero expectations on us being friends. So what was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I’ve been hearing you jack off in the shower. Do you need a hand with that?’”
He dropped his head. “Fuck. That might well have killed me. I've been trying for three weeks to keep my hands to myself. And I’m obviously failing. I kissed you in the kitchen that time, and that's only made it worse. It's like getting my hands on you is all I can think about. I thought last night was because you were wasted. But I kinda get the feeling you want me too. Like you were looking for a little liquid courage."
"I–I–I–" What was I supposed to say to that? "I don't remember exactly what happened last night, but I feel like you kept stopping me from doing anything too crazy."