The Rival Roomies (The Rooftop Crew Book 3)

by Piper Rayne

  “‘Hey, I’m fucking Rian right now. Take off.’”

  I shake my head.

  Knox turns off the television while Seth’s nodding like a crazy man. “About fucking time. Can I say something to her?” He steps toward me.

  “Fuck no. Get the hell out.”

  Seth nods like “yeah, that was an idiotic move” and twists on his heels to head toward the door. “Finally. I swear I think I was getting blue balls watching Dylan drag his feet.”

  The door shuts behind them, and I flip the lock.

  “Open up for me,” I say, turning to the bathroom door.

  She peeks around the door, and when she hears the quiet and doesn’t see the guys, she opens it all the way. “So, two down, huh?”

  Rian’s skin glistens in the steamy room from the humidity. I shut the door and lock it, putting my hand in the bag. She secures it with her scrunchie.

  “Technically Jax too,” I say.

  She sighs.

  “Did you want us to keep it a secret?” Maybe I pegged her all wrong. Should I have told the guys it was someone else?

  “No! It’ll be embarrassing the first time, but I don’t want us to hide.”

  “Good. I think the shower’s ready.” My good hand snakes down her body, grabbing her ass.

  “I’m ready.” She takes a hair elastic from her drawer and twirls her hair into a messy ponytail on top of her head.

  She steps in first and I quickly follow. My gaze follows the stream of water flowing over her body and I realize this was a big mistake.

  “Let’s just wash me and get the hell out of here. I cannot properly fuck you in a shower with one arm.” I step under the showerhead with her, my lips falling to hers until her back hits the tile wall.

  “Happy to,” she says, her hands in my hair, our naked bodies pressed together. She’s soft, oh so fucking soft, and she’s grinding along my length.

  “I can’t stop touching you.” Even my broken arm wants something. My fingers find their way to the seam of the bag, begging to touch any part of her.

  She presses on my chest and I step back, using my time away from her to take her in. Commit the curves of her body to memory. How her tits fall like heart-shaped Hershey’s kisses just waiting for my mouth to devour them.

  She puddles shampoo into her hand before bringing both up to my hair. Her fingers thread through the strands and massage my scalp.

  “You probably need me closer, right?” I laugh, my hands on her hips leaving us only millimeters apart.

  “I really need you to dip your head. You’re so damn tall.”

  So I do just that and take the opportunity to lick one of her breasts, sucking the nipple into my mouth. “Is this what you meant?”

  She arches into me, her hands not as vigorous anymore.

  “Keep washing my hair,” I say, shifting my attention to her other breast.

  “Trade places.”

  The suds from my hair drip down over her chest.

  “You don’t play fair,” she says.

  We switch so the water falls over my head. To speed up the process, I stand to my full height, dipping my head back under the showerhead to rinse my hair.

  “FYI, I never play fair.”

  But then neither does she, because her lips attach to my nipples, her tongue running small circles around them. I grab a hold of her nipples, twisting. The harder I pull, the more she moans. I think I found a kink of Rian Wright’s.

  She stands up, not taking nearly enough time down there. “Conditioner.”

  “We can skip the conditioner.”

  She looks at me with mock offense. “No way. If my hands are going to thread through this hair tonight, I want it soft.”

  “Only if you agree to pull it.” I grin. A blush travels over her whole body, and I break the distance between us. “I might just get addicted to you blushing. Tell me what you were thinking when I just said that.”

  She shakes her head, grabbing my bar of soap, and runs the soap over my body. “I was thinking of your head between my legs.”

  I put my finger under her chin and bring her face up to meet my eyes. “You better pull my hair when I’m between your legs. I plan on spending a lot of time down there.”

  She runs the soap over my dick, pushing her body against mine to hold me in place until she slides the soap to my back side, moving over my ass.

  “You get the job of showering me every morning until this cast comes off.” I kiss her nose.

  She smiles. “Oh, do I? And what do I get in return?”

  “You get me washing you.” My hand molds around her tit, my thumb over her nipple.

  “I’m not sure either one of us will make it to work.” She puts the soap down and walks me back under the showerhead. “Time to rinse off, my dirty boy.”

  “If I’m a good boy, do I get a treat?”

  She laughs without answering, and after I’m rinsed off, I turn off the water. She gets out and pulls two towels from the rack.

  “I’ll dry you.” I take her towel. Fuck my right hand. I won’t let it fuck this up because it can’t coordinate itself.

  She watches me run the plush towel up both of her legs, pausing an inch shy of her pussy. I dry off her arms and torso, taking my time to make sure her tits are fully dry. Sliding the towel around her back, I make sure her ass is good and dry. With her hair up, all that’s left is her pussy. I put the towel there, my hand molded to her mound, and she bucks into my hand. I need to get this girl to a bed.

  Opening the bathroom door, I’m happy to find the apartment empty. We tiptoe across the room as though it’s not, and when we’re secure in her room, I back her up to the bed until she falls on the mattress.

  “Condom?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I have an IUD. I’m clean.”

  My knees nudge her legs open. Fuck, she’s killing me. Is she giving me permission to just slide right in? I’ve never done that before. I desperately want to and I’m clean, but I fear that with nothing between us, I’ll be the minute man inside her.

  “I’m clean too—just tested before the accident—but I’ll be right back.” I stand from the mattress and point at her. “Stay right where you are.”

  I run out of the room and over to my bedroom, grab a row of condoms, and return to her. Rian listened, lying exactly where I left her except she’s taken out her ponytail so her blonde hair is strewn around her like a fucking angel’s.

  Fuck the condoms. I toss them aside and shimmy up on the bed with my knees. “Are you sure you’re okay without a condom?”

  She nods. I hold myself over her on my good arm, the tip of my dick piercing her opening.

  “I trust you,” she says softly.

  I hope she doesn’t come to regret those three words.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rian

  Dylan slides into me inch by inch, filling me until I gasp. He stares at me—and it’s then I realize we did this all wrong.

  “I should be on top. Your arm,” I say.

  He looks at his arm as though he has no idea what I’m talking about. “Shit, you’re right.”

  He slides out of me, and I groan from missing him so much. The shower was some hella foreplay. I need him. Maybe after the first time, my girly parts will have more patience.

  “I guess you get to ride me.” He smirks and lies back on my bed, his head on my pillows, one arm outstretched and reaching for me.

  Suddenly, I’m self-conscious. I’ve never ridden anyone. I’ve watched porn, but the fact that’s all I have to go on is pathetic and not something I’m about to share, no matter how much I trust Dylan with my secrets.

  “Are you fantasizing about cowboys?” He laughs, waiting for me.

  Well, if I’m not going to tell him, it’s time to hop on. I swing one leg over to straddle him.

  “Put me in you.” His attention is focused on the space between our groins.

  Just imagine your dildos, Rian. You totally have this. I grab his base, i
nching up and positioning him at my opening before sinking down on his hard length.

  The fact that his head is arched back with his eyes shut says I’m doing something right.

  “We’ll definitely be doing this when I have use of both my arms.” His good hand molds to my hip.

  I rock a little as his fingertips push into my skin. He smiles at me and my hands land on his chest, my gaze pouring over his tattoos to get my mind off of what I’m doing.

  “Just go on feeling,” he whispers.

  My eyes shoot to his. He knows. Of course he does. You’ve lived across from him for years and he’s never once seen you bring a guy home. I rock deeper, opening my legs farther.

  He groans, his fingertips tightening on my hipbone. “There you go.”

  His hand ventures off my hip to my breast. He squeezes it and runs his thumb over my puckered nipple. I pause for a moment without him directing me, but the more aroused I become, the more I chase my orgasm and the thoughts about whether I’m doing it right or not are thrown out the window.

  His hips raise up off the mattress, pushing him deeper inside me. The way he’s stretching me isn’t painful; it feels sinful and I’ll never tire of this feeling. I slide up and down on him, my hands digging into his chest for stability. He’s perfect.

  My orgasm climbs, but I push it back because I don’t want this moment to end. I want to feel like this for the rest of my life. The closeness of today, his hands scanning every inch of my body, his lust-filled eyes staring at me as though I’m the only woman who could ever satisfy him. It’s all too much and I’m flooded by desire ripping through my body.

  “You’re fucking amazing,” he says, his eyes lazily closing for a moment. “I want to tear off my cast to drill inside you until I can’t see straight.”

  He manipulates my tit, pinching my nipple, and the dam I built around my orgasm collapses. I cry out as the waves of my climax crest over me. Dylan’s hand moves to my hip and he pumps inside me from below, finding his own release with a growl and my name on his lips.

  I roll off him, lying on the mattress until he seeps out of me. “I’ll be right back,” I say and shoot out the door to the bathroom.

  I’m not in there longer than a minute when Dylan knocks on the door. “You okay?”

  The concern in his voice warms my heart. “Yes. Just cleaning up.”

  I finish, flush the toilet, and wash my hands before opening the door to a still-naked Dylan.

  He walks into the bathroom, pressing me to the bathroom counter. “I would have cleaned you.”

  I laugh. “Well, it took me a little by surprise.”

  “Yeah, I forgot that it would get messy. Which means…” He kisses me briefly and moves to the tub. “We need to take that bath now. Soothe all those parts I’m not done with yet.”

  I smile. “I think I have some bubble bath.”

  A half hour later, Dylan drains some of the water and runs the tap to add more hot water to the tub. I’m across from him, our legs tangled, our hands entwined. I can’t help looking at all his tattoos again.

  “Have you thought of my tattoo yet?” I ask.

  A mischievous smile arises on his gorgeous face. “I have.”

  “Can you tell me what it is?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “After the cast is off, you’ll sketch it though?”

  He shrugs. “You let me know when you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now.”

  He nods and I know he’s hiding something, but I have no idea what it could be. “You’ve got at least five more weeks.”

  He stares at me so long, I look away.

  “Come here,” he says. I slide so that my back is to his chest and he nuzzles his face into my neck, securing the one arm he can get wet around me, the other in plastic propped up on the side of the tub. “Have you finished that math problem yet?”

  “No, but I’m getting close.”

  “That’s my girl.” He kisses my ear, his tongue twirling around the lobe. “I’m not sure you’re going to get to work on it for a while though.”

  “Why is that?” I look at him over my shoulder.

  “Because I have a lot of masturbation material and I want to make live footage with you.”

  I turn around fully and he takes the opportunity to get me to straddle him. “You masturbated to me?”

  Stop looking for affirmation.

  He laughs. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been masturbating to you since the first day we met.”

  “You’re lying. That’s a way to save face. You probably masturbated to Blanca and Sierra too.”

  He says nothing for a moment. “Truth is, I never did. I can’t really say why. Maybe Sierra scares me a little and by the time I met Blanca, you were a permanent part of my highlight reel.”

  “Now I feel giddy and it shouldn’t matter, but…” I lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. “I’m flattered.”

  He holds me to him. “Wait to be flattered until you find out what we were doing.”

  “I think bath time is over.” I pull the drain plug.

  He chuckles, and I step out of the bath then help him. We remove the bag then dry off with the towels from earlier.

  “We’ve gotten entirely too wet tonight. I’m turning into a prune.” I walk in front of him to the bedroom.

  “Oh, I haven’t gotten you nearly as wet as I want you yet.”

  I’m not sure I’ll ever grow tired of the dirty things he says to me. He’s so open about how much he wants me physically. I wonder where that comes from when he’s so insecure about showing any vulnerability. Maybe he views sex and relationships differently.

  We get back to my bed and I pick up the condoms. “So we’re just not going to use these?”

  He picks them up and tosses them on the floor. I guess that answers that.

  “Me on top again?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but are you up for trying something?”

  I nod.

  He slides by me on the bed, lying in the same position he was in the first time. “Straddle me, but turn the opposite way so I’m looking at your ass.”

  “Reverse cowgirl?” I ask and his eyes narrow as though he’s wondering who I’ve done it with. “I’m not some naive virgin. I watch porn.”

  A huge smile takes over his face. “Oh, that’s our next thing. We’re watching porn together.”

  “I have another idea first though.”

  “Do tell.”

  My cheeks heat, but I force myself to say the words. “A little sixty-nine before reverse cowgirl?”

  He slides down the bed on his back a bit. “You are the girl of my dreams. By all means. I did skip dinner.”

  And let me say I haven’t found one thing Dylan isn’t good at. Even if he only has one good arm.

  I spring up in bed and turn to my side. Dylan’s asleep on his back, his casted arm on his side, half on his stomach, and his other arm above his head. He looks as tired as my body feels. Even with the use of only one arm, Dylan did a fabulous job of giving me multiple orgasms.

  After pushing the covers off my legs, I grab a shirt and shorts, then I pull my books off my dresser. My mind is clearer than it’s been in weeks. I grab my reading light and clip it to my book, putting pencil to paper, and the block lifts, the answer coming to me as if someone placed it in my mind.

  Jax comes home, his footsteps moving through the apartment as he goes through his nightly routine of changing his clothes and having a late night snack and a beer while watching television. For a moment, I debate joining him and asking him what he told Dylan to spur the breakthrough of that wall he put between us. But then I turn to look at Dylan sleeping in my bed and I don’t want to know. I’m just happy we crossed that line we’ve toed for so long.

  Another wave of clarity washes over me and I work out another part of the equation. The rush of flying through the solution is addicting and I’m unable to stop my pencil from moving across the paper. Jax’s footsteps on the oth
er side of the door says he heads to his room, his door quietly shutting.

  Dylan shifts in my sheets and steals my attention away for a second.

  Picking up my books, I admire the man I’m way too invested in. He could break me, and I have to prepare myself for that. But he feels worth the risk.

  I head out to the dark living room and sit at the kitchen table, working through the rest of the solution and feeling as though life couldn’t get much better than this.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dylan

  My hand falls beside me, expecting to feel a warm body, but it lands on a cold sheet instead.

  I peek at an empty spot next to me. I rarely wake up alone after a night of sex. If anything, the girl is usually begging me for another round. My heart squeezes over the idea that maybe Rian is having second thoughts. Maybe last night was too much, too fast. Maybe my mouth was way too filthy for her or my one-handed fucking wasn’t stellar.

  Shaking my head, I push away that notion. She was right there with me, her body instinctively knowing what to do even though her experience is limited. I tried to guide her and not make her feel inadequate because she was anything but. Hell, the caveman alpha male in me likes that I’ll get to teach her some things.

  I sit up, find my track pants, and after what feels like a lifetime and I’m sweating from the effort of putting them on, I leave the sanctuary of her room—only to stop in her doorway. She’s asleep at the kitchen table, her hands tucked under her head on top of the pile of papers strewn everywhere.

  I slide back the veil of blonde hair covering her face and kiss her cheek. “Time to wake up, brainiac.”

  She stirs, swatting me away, and I laugh. My lips travel down her ear and suck her earlobe. She moans and my morning wood screams good morning once again.

  “Go to the bed,” I say.

  When she still doesn’t get up, I delve my hand under the bottom of her T-shirt and squeeze her breast, pinching her nipple.

  She jolts, looks at me, and gives me one of those dick-saluting smiles. “Morning.”