Tempt Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps)

by Teagan Hunter

  What the fuck is she talking about? This isn’t revenge. I don’t even know what happened.

  “Holland, I—”

  “Stop.” She holds her hand up. “Just stop. I don’t want to hear it. I was just starting to think you weren’t a complete asshole, that maybe you’d grown up in the last four years since you broke my heart. Then you pulled that stunt on Saturday and now you’re sending pornographic emails to Larry from my account pretending to be me? That’s low, even for you.”

  I know I should be worried about a lot of things right now, like her thinking I’m sending emails from her account to some guy who is old enough to be her father.

  But all I can focus on is the fact that she’s claiming I broke her heart.

  Fuck that. I didn’t break shit.

  She fucking broke mine.

  “I broke your heart?” I scoff, taking a step toward her. She retreats, but I follow. “That’s rich coming from you, princess.”

  “Stop calling me that!”

  “Why?” Another step, and she slinks back again, going deep into the room, the shadows nearly swallowing her. “It’s all you are. A spoiled, bratty princess who thinks just because Daddy won the lottery, she’s someone special now. But he won’t share his wealth, will he? No.” I shake my head, inching closer still as she matches my movements in reverse. “You have to plot and scheme with your mother, sleeping your way into a hefty bank account.”

  She shakes her head. “What the hell are you talking about? I—”

  “I heard you. I heard you talking about how great it would be to nab a Barnes. How good it would look for the family. How much credibility and financial backing it would add to your father’s business.”

  I take a final step, and we’re shrouded in blackness as her back hits the rack of supplies and my arms come up to cage her in.

  She’s staring up at me with wide eyes. We’re so close her chest brushes against mine as her ragged sharp inhalations fill the silence in the tiny closet.

  I smell cherries, and it’s my absolute undoing.

  Unable to help myself, I lean closer, dropping my nose against her cheek, inhaling the familiar scent I’ve missed so much. She’s soft and smells sweet, just like I remember.

  I drop a hand to her waist, tugging her body tighter against mine, pressing my leg between hers.

  She lets out a startled gasp, gripping on to my biceps. “I-I…”

  My fingers find the edge of the flirty dark green dress she’s wearing for casual Friday, and she sucks her breath in, holding it…waiting.

  Wanting.

  “Tell me, princess, that time we spent in the coat closet…was it good for you too?”

  A strangled moan leaves her lips and her hips arch toward me, like she’s seeking out my touch all over again.

  “Did you like the way my lips felt on yours?”

  I drop my mouth to her neck, pressing a kiss to the spot above her collarbone I know makes her nuts, and I feel her press herself against my leg.

  “The way my tongue felt on your pretty pink nipples?”

  She rubs herself against me again as I nip a path up her neck.

  “The way my fingers felt as I fucked your tight pussy with them?”

  I feel her wetness on my thigh as I press a kiss just to the right of her lips.

  “The way you moaned my name as you came?”

  “S-Sutton—”

  I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her cries as she bucks against me with abandon.

  And for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.

  11

  Holland

  Hard lips are pressed against mine. A thick leg is wedged between my thighs, providing just the right amount of friction as I slide against it. There’s something sharp digging into my back and yet I don’t care.

  Sutton is kissing me.

  Sutton is kissing me.

  And fuck does it feel amazing.

  His cock is straining against his slacks; no doubt he’s as turned on as I am. With one hand gripped tightly around my waist, his fingers dance their way up my thigh and under my favorite green dress. My already rapid heart rate increases when I feel the tips of them play along the edge of my panties. He lets them rest there, like he’s seeking permission or refusal.

  I should stop him.

  I should tell him no.

  But I can’t find the words because I want it too damn badly.

  Because it’s been too long since I’ve felt this good.

  When I don’t stop him and instead drag my tongue across his lips, he breaches the barrier. He pushes his tongue into my mouth at the same time he slides his thumb against my swollen clit.

  I moan, and I’m not sure if it’s from his mouth or his touch. Either way, he swallows the sound as I buck against him, seeking more of both.

  My hands dig into his biceps as he rubs my throbbing clit in painfully slow circles, teasing me because he knows he can.

  Even if his touch is slow and gentle, it’s still enough to inch me closer and closer to the edge. It’s been a long time. Too long a time.

  He drags his lips from mine, kissing his way to my ear.

  “Are you going to come for me, princess?” His voice is rough and uneven as he whispers the words. “Are you going to moan my name when you do?”

  I can hear the satisfied smirk in his voice, and for the first time, it doesn’t piss me off.

  I shouldn’t like that he’s taunting me. I shouldn’t like that it’s Sutton getting me this close to the edge.

  I shouldn’t like that I feel so right in his arms.

  But I do.

  And I hate that I do.

  “Let me just grab some computer paper.”

  The door creaks open, light spilling into the room and nearly exposing us.

  We freeze at the sound of the voice that’s way too close for comfort, and it’s like a bucket of ice tossed over us.

  “I found some!” someone calls from farther away.

  “Oh, good,” the woman close to us says. “I hate going into this creepy supply closet.”

  She pulls the door shut, leaving us blanketed in black.

  And just like that we snap back into reality.

  I shove at Sutton, and he stumbles away. When my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can see his eyes are wide with shock like he can’t believe that just happened.

  I can’t either.

  How could I be so stupid? How could I let him touch me like that? How could I let myself fall for this crap all over again?

  With space, I find the clarity in the situation and yank my dress back down. I brush my hair away from my face, trying to quiet my sharp breaths.

  Tears sting my eyes, and I have no idea why I’m on the verge of crying.

  He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes like he’s trying to erase the memories of what just happened, then rakes his fingers through his hair. He takes a step toward me, and I shake my head.

  “Don’t,” I say quietly.

  He stops, tipping his head to the side. He looks like he wants to say something, but I don’t want to hear it.

  “Just go.”

  I hear him swallow. See the way his throat bobs.

  “Please,” I beg, choking back a sob.

  He looks uncertain, like he doesn’t want to leave me alone.

  But finally, he nods once, then slips back out the door like he didn’t just knock my world off its axis.

  I press my hand to my chest to make sure my heart doesn’t explode out of my chest.

  Working in the same office with Sutton was pure torture.

  Every time he glanced at me, my heart rate sped up.

  Every time he spoke to me, my body thrummed with the memory of his hands on me.

  And when he had to drop off a report at my desk and brushed against me, I had to excuse myself to the bathroom for fear I would combust right there.

  The moment the clock struck five, I bolted.

  Instead of going home
where I knew he would be waiting for me, I hid away at The Gravy Train. Which is where I’ve been sitting for the last four hours, trying to work up the courage to face him again.

  I attempted to distract myself with a book, but that was a big mistake.

  The moment things began to get heated between the main characters, all I could think about was Sutton and that damn supply closet.

  I’m still trying to wrap my head around how good it felt to be with him again. How natural it was to have his lips on mine. How it felt like my body was alive for the very first time.

  Trying to figure out what he meant when he said I was after his money.

  I don’t care where he comes from. I don’t care that he’s richer than rich. And I really don’t care about his last name.

  If anything, it makes me hate him more, the way the whole family walks around like they’re God’s gift to mankind just because they have money in the bank that could feed an entire state for a year.

  My phone buzzes against the table, drawing my attention.

  * * *

  Prince of Darkness: *picture of Artemis’s paw reaching under a door*

  Prince of Darkness: She’s been sitting outside my bedroom meowing for the last hour.

  Prince of Darkness: I’m not letting her in though. I don’t feel like dying today.

  Prince of Darkness: Though I bet you’d like that.

  Me: Little dramatic, aren’t we?

  Prince of Darkness: That wasn’t a no.

  Prince of Darkness: Are you coming home anytime soon? I’m asking for Artemis, obviously.

  Me: I’ll be back late.

  Me: Don’t wait up.

  Prince of Darkness: Wouldn’t dream of it.

  * * *

  Darlene plops down across from me, startling me.

  She laughs when I jump. “Sorry, dear. Just taking my break, and you looked like you could use an ear. Want to tell me what happened with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dumb?”

  I lift my brow, setting my phone on the table. “Why do you think something happened?”

  “Well, based on the mark on your collarbone there, I’d say someone had their lips on you. And based on the way I’ve seen you two look at each other over the last month, I’d bet all my tips for the day it came from him.”

  My hand goes to my neck, to the spot I know Sutton gave extra attention because he knows just how much I respond to it.

  And I’m reminded all over again of our tryst this afternoon.

  “It was him, wasn’t it?”

  I don’t answer, but my gulp is telling enough.

  Darlene laughs again. “I knew it.” She winks. “Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of. That man might reek of arrogance, but he’s mighty nice to look at.”

  She’s not lying there.

  “So if you got ravaged by that hunk, why do you look so upset?”

  “It’s kind of complicated.”

  And I realize I use that word a lot when it comes to Sutton, but that’s because it’s true.

  It’s complicated because logically I know I should hate him for using me.

  I should hate him for the way he looks down on me like he’s better than me.

  Should hate him for the way he tries to sabotage me at every turn.

  But nonsensically? I want him.

  I want the way he makes my body feel.

  I want the way his stare makes it seem like I’m the only person in the room.

  The way he makes my world feel like everything I was ever missing isn’t so lost when he’s around.

  “I have fifteen minutes.”

  So I tell her.

  I tell her everything. From high school to heartbreak to him becoming my coworker and roommate. I tell her all my logical and nonsensical reasons.

  And what does Darlene do?

  She laughs.

  “How is this funny?” I ask, my temper rising.

  She places her hand on top of mine, patting it twice. “Oh, honey. It’s not funny, not at all, and I don’t envy the position you’re in. It’s a hard choice to make—the head or the heart.”

  “Not heart,” I’m quick to say. “My heart isn’t involved. It’s just my body that can’t say no to him.”

  She twists her lips up, tipping her head to the side and eyeing me in a way that makes me shift under her stare.

  With a singular nod, she says, “Then go for it.”

  “What?” I balk at her suggestion.

  She lifts a shoulder. “If your body can’t say no, then screw him.”

  I laugh at her choice of words, shaking my head. “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Well, we’re roommates, and there’s the bet we had. It’d be admitting defeat, and there’s no way I’m doing that and letting him win again. Plus, there are some fraternization rules at work, and I’d really rather not be fired over some dick.”

  “Is it good dick though?”

  I bark out another laugh at her words, not expecting them in the least.

  “The first reason isn’t even important anymore. You’ve both already clearly lost, so we’ll just call it a draw. The other part…” She winces. “Well, that one is a little more complicated.”

  There’s that word again.

  “But I’d suggest maybe keeping your hands off each other at work.”

  My cheeks heat with her penetrating stare.

  “Darlene!” someone yells from the front counter. “Break time’s over!”

  “Give me a damn minute, Earl!” she hollers, then turns back around with an eye roll. She checks the watch on her wrist like she doesn’t believe him and sighs. “Well, shit. Guess he’s right. I’d better get back before the old fart has a coronary.”

  I chuckle because there’s no way that man isn’t roughly the same age as her.

  She pats my hand again. “You’ll figure it out, sweetie. I know you will.”

  “Thanks, Darlene.”

  “No problem. I’m always here when you need me. Just say the word.”

  She gives me a warm smile, then ambles her way back to the front counter to a glaring Earl.

  “Oh quit your bitchin’, old man. You know I’m your best employee.”

  I snicker at her rebelliousness, wishing I could be that brave.

  But I guess I was with my father.

  I was brave and I took a chance. Risked everything for that feeling in my gut that was telling me to do it.

  It’s the same feeling I have when I think about Sutton.

  Sleeping with him would be reckless and probably the dumbest decision ever…but I can’t deny how tempting it sounds.

  Because Sutton makes me feel that good.

  I’m just not sure I’m ready to admit it.

  Sutton’s sitting in the chair when I walk through the door at nearly ten o’clock.

  I pause in the doorway when our eyes meet.

  He waited up.

  Ignoring the way my heart skips a beat, I turn my attention to Artemis, who jumps down from her perch on the couch the moment she catches sight of me.

  I close the door, ignoring Sutton’s heated stare, and drop my keys into the bowl on the counter before reaching down for the cat rubbing against my legs.

  “Hey, badass,” I murmur, snuggling her close. “You miss me?”

  I walk into the kitchen with her tucked into my side and reach into the cabinet for her food.

  “I already fed her,” Sutton says, eyes tracking my every movement.

  “Thanks,” I mumble, putting the food back and grabbing her treats.

  I set her down, then put two extra treats in front of her to make up for leaving her alone so long. She scarfs them down in record time, struts away, and slumps onto her cat bed in the corner of the living room right under her favorite window.

  The whole time I watch her, Sutton watches me.

  I can feel it.

  His eyes on my legs. On my chest. On my face.

  The tension in the air is thick, and I have no idea w
hat to say to ease it.

  So I decide to say nothing at all.

  Instead, I pad down the hall to my bedroom, ready to lock myself away for the night.

  Except my door never latches closed behind me.

  He’s there.

  I can feel him as I stand in front of my dresser, refusing to look up and meet his stare in the mirror.

  I have no idea how long we stand there. It feels like hours when in reality I’m sure it’s only seconds.

  He reaches out, fingers grazing the small of my back like he can’t help but touch me.

  When I don’t move away from his touch, he steps closer, gripping my waist tightly, and I really feel him then.

  He’s hard.

  He drags one hand higher and higher until I feel his fingers in my hair, brushing it aside. Out of instinct—or intoxicating desire—I tip my head to the side, exposing my neck to him.

  He takes the invitation, dropping his lips to my heated skin.

  One soft kiss.

  Then two.

  A scrape of his teeth. Another kiss.

  His grip on my waist tightens with every kiss, with every heavy pant that fills the room.

  I sink into him and he groans at the contact.

  “Holland…”

  His voice is strained, like it’s taking everything he has to hold himself back from tossing me onto the bed and stripping me bare.

  But I don’t want him to hold back.

  I don’t want to hold back.

  Not tonight.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I spin around and crush my mouth to his, not thinking about what it means.

  He lifts me into his arms and sets me on the dresser, mirror bouncing against the wall with the force of his movement, so hard I’m sure it left a dent. His hands crash into my hair, holding me to him as I dip my hands under his shirt, relishing the feel of his abs under my fingertips.

  But it’s not enough.

  I need more.

  I tug at the waistband of those damn sweats he’s always wearing, wanting them off, wanting it all.

  He wrenches his mouth from mine, and his normally bright gold gaze is at least two shades deeper as he stares at me with wide eyes, putting some space between us.