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Yet here I am, stroking myself faster, imagining every step of stripping her bare. Worshipping her body, indulging myself in her smell and her taste. I bet anything she’s sweet. Addictive. And I have no doubt I could make her body sing while she screams my name.
“Fuck…” I whisper, my head falling back as the familiar rush consumes me. There’s no going back now, not with a porno playing in my mind like a movie. Having her body pinned beneath mine, watching desire swirl in her eyes while she arches her back to give me her body.Say my name. Tell me what you need.And she would, too. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself once I got started. She’s a fiery girl. I wonder how hot she would burn.
The sudden rush comes over me all at once, and I give myself over to it, painting the tiled wall with one spurt of hot seed after another until my ears ring, and I go weak in the knees. That was necessary. I needed to get that out of my system. No way could I leave this shower and keep my hands to myself otherwise.
Although... once I’m dried off, and I open the bathroom door wide enough to see her still sleeping soundly, I wonder if I should play it safe and sleep on the couch. It can’t hurt to have a wall between us. Then again, what happens if she pulls another one of her bullshit stunts? I can just imagine being startled awake by an alarm or a sudden phone call saying she managed to sneak past me to wreak havoc on another floor.
No, it’s better to stay in here with her. My heart sinks a little when I consider how she’ll react once she’s awake, but I’ll deal with that when the time comes. I’m too damn tired and conflicted to care—and if she gives me shit, I’ll remind her it’s not my fault she can’t be trusted on her own.
All hint of desire is long gone by the time I’ve pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I’m too busy resenting her for the pain in the ass she’s turned out to be.
I’m careful to keep plenty of space between us as I settle in on my customary side of the king-size bed. For her sake. Not for mine. I know better than to complicate things by laying a hand on her. She’s already trouble enough.
TEAGAN
My apartment was builtin the ’80s, and the furnace hasn’t been updated in many years. It works, but not all the time, so I’m used to waking up in the middle of the night and freezing my ass off. I’m not used to waking up feeling warm, comfortable, and safe.
For some reason, that’s exactly how I feel right now. I don’t remember the last time I felt so cozy. Burying my face into the firm pillow, I’m ready to let sleep pull me under once more when I notice something is off. Although this is very comfortable, and I don’t want to wake up, this bed doesn’t feel like my own. It doesn’t smell like cheap laundry detergent or my brother’s cigarette stench. It smells… nice, clean, and so damn inviting.
“It’s time to wake up.” A low, rumbly voice meets my ear, pulling me from the place where sleep and wakefulness meet reality.
My eyes fly open, and I lift my head to find my face only inches away from Mason’s handsome face.
What the hell?
Sitting up quickly, I wrestle with the blanket wrapped around my body while trying my damnedest to remember how I ended up in his bed. Patting myself down, I realize I’m still completely dressed. Well, that’s a plus.
“You fell asleep on the couch. I carried you to the bed,” he answers the question in my head.
“Oh… thanks. And sorry for using you as a pillow.”
I’m not sure why he didn’t leave me on the couch, but I’m not mad about sleeping in his bed with him. Even though I still don’t really know much about him. Other than he has the most kissable-looking lips and deep green eyes, reminding me of an ocean during a storm.
“What time is it?” I ask while I watch him get out of bed.
“Almost eight. I’m surprised Nat hasn’t sent out a search party for me.”
“So what’s on the itinerary for today?”
Mason raises his eyebrow. “Work for me. Going back to your room for you.”
“How about you take today off?”
“I don’t take days off.”
I push the blanket off my body and let my legs dangle from the bed. “Yeah, I got that from our conversation yesterday, which is exactly why you should do it.”
“Mason!” Natalie’s voice booms through the door. “Are you alive?”
“Here comes the search party.” Mason walks toward the bedroom door, opening it before his sister kicks it down.
“Are you okay?” Natalie seems seriously worried. She looks past her brother, her gaze landing on me.
“Hi,” I greet awkwardly.
A huge smile spreads across her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says with a hint of sarcasm.
“You didn’t,” Mason declares. “We were—”
