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“I hate that guy. Can’t you kick him out?”
“He’s the worst. My boss gives me a lot of flexibility, but he doesn’t want me kicking anyone out unless it’s absolutely necessary. He claims he doesn’t want to get a bad rap. But I know it’s because guys are more likely to buy drinks.”
“He sounds like a douchebag too. I’m sorry.” He’s acting concerned and comforting, like a boyfriend. I think I like it. Which means I hate it.
“It’s alright. You know how it goes. It evens out in the end, and it’s usually worth the money.”
He doesn’t look convinced of my statement. “Do you want to talk about whatever else is on your mind?”
I only ever talk to Mack. And Maci. It would be weird to open up to anyone else, especially when said person is what I might need to talk about. I shake my head against my instinct to say yes.
“What do you want, then?” He says it gently, like he’s willing to give me whatever I ask him for. The comfort of this moment and the softness in his voice gives me anxiety. What the hell is wrong with me?
I close the few inches of space between us and kiss him. My traitorous heart leaps at the contact. I ignore it. “That.” I pull back, my fingers running down his forearm until they link with his and lead him to my room. I squeeze his hand. “Maybe these.” I smile at him, and he returns the gesture. When I’m backed up against my bed, I run my thumb roughly across his mouth. “Definitely this.” He bites playfully at my thumb before tossing me onto the bed.
By the time we are worn out, it’s almost 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure I’ll fall asleep the second I close my eyes, regardless of the fact that I’m still naked, twisted in my sheets. When I glance at Troy, it looks like he could do the same. I need to send him home. I’ve never let a guy stay over after sex, and there’s no reason to change that now. He scoots closer to me, reaching for my hip, pulling me to my side so I’m facing him.
“Here’s what I’m thinking.”
I wait for him to continue, although I have a feeling I should cut him off now.
“You tell that voice in your head trying to convince you I should leave to fuck off.”
In my entire life, Mack has been the only person who has been able to read me. Troy can do it better. I don’t think I like that. Hehasto leave. I stare back at him.
“I slept with someone else a few days ago,” I blurt.
He studies me, his brows furrowing. “Okay,” he says slowly. “How was that?”
“What?” His response throws me.
“How was it?” he asks, as if he’s genuinely curious. “Did he get you off?”
“That’s none of your business,” I say with attitude.
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Honesty is the best policy or whatever,” I say as if it’s obvious.
“Is that so? Then tell me,” he demands before leaning in, his nose grazing the skin on my neck, sending a chill down my spine. “Did.” He nips at the skin just below my ear. My instinct is to run my fingers up his side, but I keep them to myself. “You.” A kiss lands on the sensitive skin at my throat, and the smallest moan escapes my lips without permission. “Get.” His mouth meets mine for a long moment. “Off?” he finishes, still close enough his warm breath brushes my lips.
“I think you know the answer.” I mumble as his lips press against my neck again. I don’t know why my voice sounds like I’m embarrassed.
He pulls back so I can see his smirk. “No one can get you off like I can, huh? You know why that is, right?”
I shoot him a vexed glare. “You’re going to give me some stupid answer about chemistry aren’t you?”
“When two people have chemistry, it makes the sex better,” he states, like it’s the only possible reason our sex isthatgood.
“We don’t have chemistry,” I lie.
“You’re trying to push me away. It’s not going to work.”
I glare at him before rolling on my back, his hold on my hip sliding to my stomach.
“Swear to me this is only about sex for you, and I’ll leave right now.”
Dead air hangs between us for a moment.
