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Rory chuckles into my mouth and bites down on my lower lip, and that sends a jolt of pleasure through me so strong that it’s enough to snap me out of the haze I’ve been in. I blink my eyes open and push at his chest, breaking the kiss.
“Get off me,” I manage, and I hate how raspy my voice sounds.
He smirks but does it, pushing off of me and getting to his feet easily. He holds a hand out for me to take, but I ignore it, rolling to my feet without his help.
We’re both flushed, chests heaving as we fight for air, and it’s not from the sparring. Looking down, I can see the hard line of Rory’s cock through his gym shorts, and I know my nipples are probably still very visible in my sports bra.
True to form, the fucker is still grinning. His hair is tousled, and it’s clear he enjoyed himself.
“I’ll spar with you any time, Hurricane,” he says, and I fight the urge to punch him.
“You should be so lucky.”
I bite the words out, and I’ve barely finished speaking before I step around him to head for the door. I have to get out of there. Just the smell of him, still so close, is enough to make me want to lean back in and pick up where we left off, but it would be a fucking mistake. That’s not what I’m here for.
That’s the opposite of what I’m here for.
As I pass him, he reaches out and slaps my ass, the sound echoing around us. It’s not a hard slap, but it’s hard enough. The small sting of pain is followed by a flush of warmth that seems to melt my lower belly into a molten pool.
My jaw clenches as I shove down every emotion inside me but the anger. I flip him off over my shoulder and let the door close behind me, pausing for just a second to take a deep breath.
Shit. Where the hell did that come from?
It’s one thing to spar with the guy, but I should never have let it turn into anything else.
In some ways, it’s not hard to see why it did though. Fighting and sex are two of my favorite things, especially when they’re combined, and it’s not hard to imagine Rory being good at both. His cocky confidence is well-earned, even if it is a pain in the ass to deal with.
Literally.
11
All day Friday, I have a harder time than usual focusing in class.
To be honest, it’s the same distraction I spent the rest of last night dealing with, replaying the make-out session with Rory over and over again in my head until I can’t think about anything else.
I remember the hard lines of his body against mine, and even the way he moved when we were sparring. His form. His stance. The way he moved in time with me to block my punches and keep me on my toes, almost like we were dancing together.
Half of it is how skilled he is, and being impressed with him for that, but the rest is all me being wrapped up in my horribly ill-advised attraction to him.
Even after a long, mostly cold shower last night, I wasn’t able to shake the mental images floating around in my head. I crawled into bed and was one second away from giving in to the need that was riding me, making me wet between my legs. It would have been so easy to slip a couple of fingers into my pussy and rub at my clit with the other hand so I could get myself off to thoughts of what might have happened if I hadn’t come to my senses on the gym floor.
But I held out somehow, reminding myself over and over again that I couldn’t give in to the temptation.
So what if they’re sexy as fuck? They’re also assholes, and that matters more than anything else.
There are a million sexy guys out there, and when this is all said and done, I can go find one of them to work off some of the frustration settling under my skin from living with these guys.
Of course, when I came down this morning to make myself some toast and coffee, Rory was already in the kitchen, making his own cup of coffee and winking at me when he saw me. It was pretty clear from his expression that he’d been thinking about what we did too, and it was only the fact that Sloan called him into the living room that saved me from whatever teasing shit he probably wanted to say.
But the damage was already done. I spent the whole ride to campus with Levi staring out the window, wondering what Rory’s dick looks like.
Fuck.
At least Sloan has gone back to ignoring me, pretending our encounter outside the house never even happened.
I can only hope my dad is able to do whatever it is he has to do to fulfill his part of this bargain soon, because I’m losing my fucking mind living with these guys.
It’s hard for me to keep my head on straight around them. But I need to focus up if I’m going to accomplish what I set out to do before my dad comes back and gets me out of this hellish living arrangement.
