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I don’t care how long she thinks it will take. This display has gone on long enough. But as I watch the way her fingers move frantically underneath her skirt and hear the soft, breathymoans coming from her parted mouth, I know she’s close. I also know that if I lend a hand, she’ll come even faster and leave me the hell alone.
That fact sickens me, considering I have Madison sound asleep in my bed, but she’s the reason I reach forward and stroke the flesh behind Juliet’s ear, in step with her demanding rhythm. The move drives her wild because she knows there’s more to come.
Gliding up her neck, I wrap my fingers in her hair and yank hard, pulling her head backward. She moans with the forceful movement and steadies herself by placing a hand against my shoulder. I feel disgusting, but the harder I pull, the louder she hums, and the faster this nightmare will end.
“Oh, babe,” she pants, her fingers digging into me as her hips buck forward.
The scene before me is highly erotic, but in no way, shape or form am I turned on. All I can think about is Madison lying innocently in my bed, ignorant to the fact that I’m helping my fuck buddy get off.
She’s taking longer than usual, and if I know Juliet as well as I think I do, she’s doing this on purpose because there’s one final thing she wants me to do. Lunging forward, I angrily latch onto her neck and bite over her pulse, sucking her warmed flesh into my mouth.
It’s exactly what she wants because, within moments, she comes with a loud, breathless whimper. I let her go and wipe my mouth, revolted when I see her skin red from where I marked her.
If she wasn’t still holding me, I would have slammed the door in her face by now. But this will be over in moments, and the worse is over with—well, one can only hope.
Her eyes flutter open, and her smile is sated and relaxed. “See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” she says, slowly removing the hand from beneath her skirt.
She doesn’t give me a chance to reply because with the fingers that were inside her moments ago, she runs her pointer down my lips, leaving a trail of her arousal behind. I won’t deny she smells amazing, but I can’t help but feel she’s done this to mark me, knowing I have someone inside.
“When it’s my turn for a sleepover, give me a call.” She smirks, confirming my suspicions. “Or if you want to invite me in, we can have one now.”
That’s not going to happen. Ever.
When she sees my resolve, she shrugs, unaffected that someone else is sleeping in my bed. “Good night, Dr. Mathews. I’ll come to collect what’s owed to me soon.”
Good grief, this woman is insatiable. A quality I once loved.
“Good night, Ms. Harte,” I curtly say, thankful when she blows me a kiss and turns on her heel.
I watch as she enters the elevator, not because I’m being a gentleman but rather because I want to ensure she’s gone. Waiting a few seconds, I close and lock the door behind me.
Leaning up against the wood grain, I take a deep breath and instantly smell her on my lips. Quickly wiping away the evidence with the back of my hand, I squash down the urge to go take a shower, as it’ll wake Madison and create questions I don’t want to answer.
Washing my face in the kitchen sink will have to do. But I’ll be sure to scrub every part of me tomorrow. Just for good measure, I use some hand soap and lather up a foamy handful, spreading it all over my face. I want no trace of her on me.
When I’m satisfied I’m Juliet-free, I head back to my bedroom and creep inside. Thankfully Madison is still sleeping soundly, and I slowly pull back the covers, slipping underneath. Themoment I smell her unique fragrance, I get hit with a serious case of the guilts.
What I did was appalling, but considering my options, that was the better choice than fucking Juliet in the hall. Juliet is toxic, and that toxicity, which was once my favorite drug, now leaves me numb. I want no more.
I’m grateful I wake to an empty bed, and I say grateful because I’m sporting some serious morning wood. Lifting the sheets, I groan because there’s no way this boner is going anywhere without a helping hand, and my hands are a poor substitute for the hands I want wrapped around my dick.
“Morning,” Madison happily says from the doorway. I quickly drop the sheet.
“Morning,” I reply, clearing my throat. “How’d you sleep?” I ask, sitting up and subtly arranging the blankets around my lap. I hope she slept better than me.
“Great,” she replies, walking into the bedroom while I run a hand through my messy hair. “Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” sheconcludes, her eyes fixated on my fingers as I try to gain some order with my mane.
“I’m glad.” My gaze drops to the sliver of milky white skin peeking out between her jeans and my T-shirt, which she’s tied in a knot, Daisy Duke style.
I quickly raise my eyes, as looking at her supple flesh is so not helping my predicament below the sheets.
“Yup. But we have a problem,” she says seriously, sitting on her side of the bed.
We sure as shit do, I think, but ask, “We do?”
Madison nods animatedly. “You’ve run out of coffee.”
I can’t help but laugh at her dire grievance. She’s dead serious. The fact she’s hunted through my cupboards doesn’t bother me in the slightest. However, the fact I’ve run out of coffee does.
