Page 4 of Does He Know?

My mind races with a million thoughts, but there is only one that matters.

Release.Release with Emerson’s eyes on me.

Her hand starts to pump faster as she adds a second finger, and my hand pumps faster. I match her stroke for stroke. Her face is flushed, and her chest rises and falls with each labored breath she pulls into her lungs.

Her back arches off the bed, and I feel the familiar tingle in the base of my spine. My balls tighten, and I know I’m not going to last much longer. I want to tell her that. I want to tell her to rub her clit and come for me.

Come. For. Me.

But I don’t. We both remain silent, our eyes roaming over every inch of each other as we both chase our orgasm.

“Rome…” she whispers my name, but it’s not just a whisper. Her voice cracks, her chest rises and falls even faster, and her hand moves to her clit. She rubs furiously, her head shaking from side to side. Her legs start to fall closed, and I grunt my disapproval.

Like the good girl that she is, she forces them back open, letting me see all of her. Her pussy is wet, and I’d give anything to have a taste. Just one taste.

My hand pumps faster, as does hers. She bites down on her bottom lip as her body shakes with the desire crashing through her veins. Seeing her like this is all it takes, and I’m blowing all over my hand, dripping onto her bedroom floor. When I’m finally spent, I tuck my cock back into my jeans and pull my T-shirt out of my hoodie. I clean up as best as I can before pulling my sweatshirt back on.

I glance down at the shirt in my hands and realize I’ve fucked up. I’m going to have to toss it, hide it, something. I can’t carry this back out to the backyard.

“Mine.” Her voice is barely a whisper that I’m surprised I heard it over the drum session rivaling a rock concert that’s going on in my chest.

Mine.

I’m not attached to the shirt, and there is something insanely hot knowing that she wants to keep it. On shaking legs, I stand to my full height and walk to where she’s lying on her bed. I hand her the shirt as I memorize everything about her.

Her flushed skin.

Her hard nipples.

Her scent.

I broke the rules. I crossed a line that I can never uncross. I know that this will be the last time.

I can do better than sneaking into her room and stroking my cock for her. I need to do better. Forrest and Emerson both deserve that. However, I can’t resist when I bend my head and place my lips to her temple.

“Good girl,” I say gruffly before turning and walking out of the room. I pull the door closed as softly as I can before I haul ass down the hall and into the bathroom. Inside, I engage the lock and brace my hands on the counter.

I hang my head because I can’t look at myself.

I fucked up. I should have kept on walking.

Not only did I violate her privacy, but I know that I’ll never be able to forget this night. I also broke the bro code, and yeah, I’m fucked in so many ways.

Turning on the faucet, I wash my hands before splashing water on my face. I have to get out of here. I’ve been up here far too long to just be taking a piss. I need to leave and to be honest, I’m not sure that I can. How do I walk past her door, knowing what’s waiting behind it? How do I face her? How do I face my friends?

I’ve been drinking, and I was going to stay here, but I can’t do that now. I just can’t. Besides, I’m completely sober after that. Whatever it was that just happened.

Turning off the light, I open the door and step out into the hallway. I force myself to walk past her bedroom door and keep my eyes straight ahead. With each step, I fight the urge to go back to her, but I know that’s not possible.

One fuckup is all that I’m allowed. The memory will have to last me because that is never happening again.

When I reach the kitchen, the guys are all coming inside. “Your guts shutting down too?” Lachlan asks me.

I nod and place my hand on my stomach. Not because of some kind of gut issue—well, maybe it is. My gut is churning with guilt and desire.

“I called an Uber,” Lachlan says. “I’d rather shit at my place if that’s how this night is going to go.”

“I’ll split it with you.” I sound miserable because I am. I’m trying not to look guilty, but even with this churning, with this heaviness of what I’ve done sitting on my chest, I wouldn’t change a single fucking minute of tonight.

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