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She said I always know exactly what to say to her, but my mind is blank. Guilt flashes through me, knowing I shouldn’t have done this. I don’t want her to feel awkward now. Not that I coerced her. She was the one who made the first move, after all. And really, how could I have denied the chance to feel her so intimately?
I look over my shoulder, but it’s too dark to see her. My mouth opens and closes, but I don’t know what to say.
I get up instead and head into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me before I turn on the light. Maybe it’s better to say nothing for now. To think about it in the shower, to wait for the right words to come. This is too important to mess up.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror, my cheeks flushed, dick straining at my sweatpants. Looks like I’ll be taking care of things in here for the third morning in a row.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
TESSA
I pushopen the lecture hall door and step outside, taking in a lungful of wintry air to clear my head. It was all I could do the last hour to focus on my test and not relive the incident this morning.
Rocking against his hard body. His hand sneaking under my waistband to skillfully rub me. The way I’d comeembarrassinglyquick.
I hold my hands to my burning cheeks, hoping anyone passing by on the sidewalk attributes it to the cold weather and not my remembered mortification. From the time I’d realized he was awake to when I’d come couldn’t have been more than two minutes, tops.
What must he think? I’d practically forced him to touch me, pushing his hand down like that. Yeah, he continued on his own afterward, but then I’d climaxed almost as soon as he slipped under my panties. Who comes that fast?
And then, when he’d left to shower, all I could think of was how awkward it would be when he came out of the bathroom. Of how I’d have to explain myself. So… I’d left. Retreated to my apartment across the hall, despite the creepy crawlies that had overtaken me as soon as I’d stepped inside. Rushed to get ready and left way earlier than I needed for class, probably before he’d even finished showering.
I pull out my phone, finding no messages. What did I expect, though? I’dfledhis apartment after leaving him high and dry. Why would he contact me first? It should be me saying something.
But what do I even say? Thanks for the orgasm? Let’s do it again, soon?
I drop onto a free bench, burying my head in my hands. I have an hour until my Statistics class. An hour to craft the perfect thing to say to him. To explain why I left. Why I pressured him into doing it in the first place. Why I want to do it again.
No. Not that. If I couldn’t handle what we did this morning, how can I ask for anything more? How can I even be sure hewantsto do anything more? Maybe he only did it because he felt bad for me. Because I was so obviously desperate. He hadn’t even mentioned doing something for him. Shouldn’t a guy have wanted to get off, too?
Wow, am I seriously complaining about that? That this sexy, considerate, amazingly sweet guy got me off and didn’t ask for anything in return? What a hardship.
My phone rings and I fumble to grab it, for some reason believing it’s Austin. I drop it on the ground, praying I didn’t break the screen, and finally answer it, not recognizing the number.
“Is this Ms. Hooper?” a man asks.
“Yes.” Oh, God. It’s not a telemarketer, is it?
“This is Roy with maintenance. We received your request to fix your door and wanted to let you know we can have it done by Friday.”
It takes me a moment to process his words. “Can’t you fix the lock today?”
“It’s not only the lock,” he says, sounding unconcerned. “The whole door needs to be replaced. Looks like someone took a crowbar to it.”
“So, my apartment’s unusable for almost a week?” Is that legal?
“There’s nothing wrong with the inside. It’s still livable.”
“No, it’s not.” It comes out with more force than I intend, but with everything on my mind lately, I’m on edge. “Someone broke in. I feel unsafe in my own home. I can’t sleep there at night.”
“Ma’am, I understand—”
“No, you don’t.” A girl passing by gives me a troubled look, so I lower my voice. “My mother died in a home invasion when I was younger. This is my worst nightmare come to life. Someone broke into your shitty apartment doors, so it’s your job to fix it as soon as you can. And with better locks than last time.”
There’s more deference in his tone as he says, “I apologize. I’ll try to fast track this as much as possible.”
“And I want a discount on my rent this month,” I blurt out, caught up in the moment.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
