Bad Roommate

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Bad Roommate Page 5

by Allie Valentine


  She heard the shower turn on next door. Great. So he was awake. Well, she might as well get up and put the coffee on. At least she could be caffeinated when she had to eat her morning crow.

  When she pushed to her feet she heard the moaning from the bathroom. As usual, when she heard him getting his morning workout on, her whole body throbbed just thinking about him.

  Thinking about all those wet muscles in the shower had her hot center pulsing, throbbing, making her want to feel him inside her.

  Jesus Christ, thinking about what he was doing in there was not going to help the —

  "Jesus, Natalie."

  Holy shit, did he just say —?

  Despite what common sense told her to do, despite what her brain cautioned her against, she tiptoed closer to the wall to listen. That's when she heard more moaning and more talking…

  "Yeah, that's it. Lick it like that. Jesus Natalie…fuck…” He growled, then let out a long, low moan.

  Holy shit. All this time, Trevor had been masturbating to her.

  Trevor hummed as he served up breakfast.

  He couldn’t explain it, but he was in a hell of a good mood. Last night with Natalie, had been…intense. But he had a new way of looking at it now. It had been one of those fluke things. Yeah right. Any second now, she was going to come out of the bedroom, and things would go right back to normal. He’d gotten really good at lying to himself lately.

  The truth was, there was a part of him that wanted to say fuck the consequences. He’d kissed her twice now. And both times, he’d felt like someone pretty much lit him on fire. She was an itch he couldn't scratch, no matter how many times he went back for more.

  More than that, she was cute. Like really cute. And funny. Maybe the two of them could work something out like adults. Like fuck buddies. No. His dick twitched as if to say, hell yes. Shit, he didn't know. He rubbed his eyes. He 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 he saw her at about five this morning, she was in her bra and panties. Lush curves spilling out the top of flimsy lace.

  No. Not going there. He wasn’t going to remember a damn thing about the softness of her skin as he’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. He was just going to continue making breakfast and keep his hands busy, so maybe he wouldn’t lose his 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 he spoke, and he frowned. Maybe she was embarrassed about what happened last night?

  "You made me breakfast?"

  He 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 his gaze when she joined him at the kitchen island and dragged out a stool. Okay, so they were going to have to talk about it.

  He 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 his and then skittered away again. "Yep, got it. Reboot. Done."

  She still wouldn't look at him.

  It bugged him, and part of him wanted to make her meet his eyes. But maybe the two of them had been sniping at each other for too long. It’s not like she knew she was starring in his fantasies and giving him an epic case of blue balls. That was on him. He was the one who needed to get his shit together. So he 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 his 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."

  He didn’t know why, but he 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 go grab a shower after the first movie?

  "Sounds like the perfect plan. A lazy day getting to know my roomie." He tried to sound chipper. Fuck, he had to try. Maybe if they were friends, he wouldn’t be so damned obsessed with her. Yeah, good luck with that.

  They worked in companionable silence cleaning up after breakfast. Despite himself, he liked having her as a roommate. After Courtney, he’d thought he’d hate having someone else around. But it wasn’t bad. His extracurricular shower activities notwithstanding, obviously.

  She was considerate, neat, and for the most part he 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, he had been. But that was going to change now.

  When they settled in for the movie, she parked it on the couch as far away from him as humanly possible and curled herself up into a tight little ball.

  It wasn’t like he could blame her, though. Twice now, he’d practically mauled her. More like you practically mauled each other. Just thinking about it had his dick standing at attention.

  He was suddenly glad he’d already changed into jeans after his shower. That shit would be impossible to hide in sweatpants.

  They’d figure this out eventually. The two of them could settle in. They needed too. They were grown-ups, after all. Barely. But it couldn't be that hard. They were both smart, knew what they wanted, and while they’d slipped and made out a couple of times, that wasn't going to define them.

  The two of them could get along and keep their hands to themselves. They could hang out, be friendly even. Watching movies like this was fine.

  He slid his gaze over her and noticed how long the column of her throat was. So delicate. He wanted to kiss that spot just behind her ear.

  Fuck. Trevor snapped his gaze, forcing it back to the television. What the hell was wrong with him? All during breakfast, he’d had to battle himself 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, his peripheral vision had noted the bounce and it made him 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 him clearing his throat and adjusting his jeans.

  He let another gaze wander over, trying to ascertain if she had any idea of the direction of his thoughts, but she wasn’t even paying attention to him. Instead, she was mouthing the words that Van Damme spoke on the screen.

  He blinked. "Seriously, you know all the words?"

  Natalie grinned. "Yeah. Is that bad?"

  He chuckled even as he shook his 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 he 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 his own personal walking, talking wet dream. If she told him she knew how to code in C++ as well, he might come right now. Just like that. Just from that knowledge alone.

  After they finished the first movie they switched to Segal. Several times one or both of them would grab a snack, a drink, use the bathroom. But they always returned to the couch, sitting closer and closer than befo
re, eventually sharing a blanket. He liked being this close to her. She smelled so goddamned good. Strawberries and something else.

  It was driving him fucking insane. To wake up to that smell had been pure torture on his dick. Which was why he'd already taken care of that little problem once this morning. Okay, fine. Twice, if he was being honest.

  After he’d left her room at five o’clock, he tried to go back to his own bed. Problem was, all he could smell all over his body was Natalie. The strawberries. All he could feel was her skin, her hair. So he’d taken hold of his dick and tried to cure the problem.

  Never mind that he’d told Cage that he wouldn't anymore. That he’d find someone else to screw. He didn't want to screw anyone else. He wanted to screw Natalie.

  But you can't.

  Yeah, well, he’d tried telling his dick that. Fucker was in no mood to listen. But if they were friends, maybe this insane, torturous need would stop. Maybe once he saw her as a real person, he would stop thinking about all the different ways to fuck her.

  Like right now, he could drag her under him, tug the pajama bottoms down, unzip his jeans, and fuck her on the couch. Or even better, she could climb on top of his lap. That fantasy had been long-running. And that way her tits would bounce in his face. Or he could bend her over the back of the couch and slide his dick in her—No. Stop it.

  Jesus Christ. He was going insane. If he kept this up, he would need another fucking shower. And seriously, that shit was getting out of hand. Even he knew he had a problem now.

  Question was, what the fuck was he 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 his advisor's niece. And especially not since he 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. He couldn't help it. Shit, he tried. He really, really did. But his gaze wandered over and landed directly on the most perfect pair of breasts he'd ever seen.

  And holy fuck, her nipples were hard. He couldn't help it. He licked his lips, wondering if she was cold or if it was something else. Like maybe she was feeling the tension between them and wanted him too?

  Yeah, he was a douche bag. He knew it. And for the first time, he was little ashamed by it. He didn't want to be having these constant thoughts about her. Fuck, he wasn’t used to being like this with any girl.

  Usually when he wanted someone, that shit was easy. Smile, flirt, next thing he knew, some girl was handing him her panties and bending over, climbing on top of him, or sucking his dick. It was all pretty easy. And then he’d gotten into a relationship and had his heart torn out. Yeah, he wasn’t exactly eager to repeat that experience.

  Natalie was different. But he’d thought that about Courtney, too.

  He 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."

  He 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 he did not think about her naked and soaped up in the shower. But as the water turned on, that's exactly how he imagined her. Because you’re a dick. Yes. He was. And he 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 again and didn’t meet his gaze as she shuffled past him to his bedroom.

  What was wrong with her? He frowned at her as she hustled into his bedroom. And then a thought slithered into his mind.

  Oh shit. Had she—? No.

  There was no way she could hear him. When he heard the water in the shower turn on, he double checked to make sure that she wasn’t coming out, and went into her bedroom. As he drew closer to the bed, his stomach plummeted. Oh, he could hear the shower all right. He could also hear her humming to herself. He could hear everything. Which meant, she'd heard everything. Everything he'd done from the moment she moved in, she heard it all if she'd been in her bedroom.

  His skin burned. She’d definitely been in her bedroom this morning when he took a shower. So she’d heard him calling her name. Heard him telling the imaginary Natalie to suck his dick.

  Fuck!

  This was so bad. She’d known all along. Known he wanted her. Frantically his mind searched his memory banks. That was probably the reason she couldn’t look him in the eye.

  He headed back to the living room and ran for the couch when he 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?"

  He shook his 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 his.

  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 he 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?"

  He was unsure what she was talking about, but he wanted to assuage her fears. "Nothing happened."

  She nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later."

  He watched her walk out. He wanted her. She wanted him too. Maybe forgetting about last night was the last thing they needed to do.

  She’d been listening to him all this time and last night she’d made a move. Maybe it was time to pay her a little visit at the library.

  Seven

  It wasn’t exactly like Natalie 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 she’d been confined with him for another minute, she was going to lose her damned mind.

  Through the series of three movies, all she could think about was the way he’d said her name in the shower. How could she be expected to hang out with him after that? As if everything was cool. Like nothing had happened.

  So of course instead of concentrating, she’d kept thinking about all the ways he could touch her. At one point it had made her nipples hard. Trevor Hamilton was walking, talking, breathing sex appeal, and she was only so strong.

  But add in the sweet stuff too, and she was going to fold like a house of cards and beg him to screw her silly. For the love of God, the man had fed her. So what? You feed him all the time. She shoved aside the rational part of her brain. It did make sense if she was cooking to make extra. But this was different. He’d deliberately cooked for her. To help her feel better.

  Her phone chimed and she lunged for it, a part of her thinking that it might be Trevor asking her what she wanted for dinner.

  No idiot, he is not your boyfriend. This is not how these things happen.

  The shitty thing was, she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. After Brian, all she wanted to do was focus on school and break out of her shell a little. A boyfriend wasn’t part of the bargain. And doing things on her 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 her eventually. And finding another apartment in the city would be next to impossible. So no screwing her roommate. It was a simple rule…but why w
as she finding it so hard to stick to?

  She swallowed disappointment that the text wasn’t from Trevor. It was Alex, telling her he was running late.

  She sighed and was glad she’d brought other coursework along. She managed to work for another thirty minutes before her phone chimed again. This time it was Trevor. Just seeing his name come up on the screen had her heart doing a flippy thing. She had it bad.

  Trevor: Meet me on the third floor.

  She frowned. He was here? Why? She glanced around the library. It wasn't exactly empty, but there weren’t many people around. Why did he want to meet her on the third floor? Nobody ever went up there. The upperclassmen liked to freak out the freshmen and tell them it was haunted.

  Nevertheless, she grabbed her phone and headed to the third floor. The floor was only partially lit, the auxiliary lights coming on the further down the stacks she walked. Quietly, she called out his name. "Trevor?”

  There was no answer at first, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. This was probably the start to some horror movie. He better not be screwing with her, lest she 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 her tennis shoes squeaked on the linoleum. “Damn it, Trevor, where are you?”

  The lighted distance between the stacks was shorter and shorter now. If she wanted to extend them, all she 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."

  She clutched her chest as she whirled around. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.” She 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?”

 

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