Roommates Box Set #4-6

17. Mason

17

MASON

As if anyone needed more proof that Henderson was the best dormitory in the state, there was a weight room next to the laundry room. And the laundry room was on our floor, so there was no need to lug stuff down to the basement.

I pulled my clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer before heading back to the weight room to do some more reps. While lifting, I couldn’t get my mind off of Kylie even though four days had passed since our trip to the Dancing Horse.

She was a little thing, but it hadn’t mattered when we danced together. Her body had moved loosely and easily against mine. And she had moves, too. I bet, if I’d asked her, she’d say she couldn’t dance, but she sure did a good job of shaking her hips and moving her body to the music.

It would have been a very enjoyable evening if that asshole hadn’t grabbed her. And scared her—that was somehow worse in my book. I knew I could protect her from physical harm, but I couldn’t prevent her from being scared.

She’d bounced back pretty quickly, however. The day after, at lunch, she described a few other incidents that had happened to her while serving drinks at her uncle’s bar. The fact that things like that had happened to her more than once made my blood boil.

Now, it was Wednesday, and though Kylie seemed over what had happened at the bar, Jude wasn’t. He felt guilty that he’d invited her to come and she’d been manhandled. No matter how many times she told him it wasn’t his fault, he still looked almost as gloomy as Parker.

The strange thing was, though that bar was a dump, it wasn’t usually as bad as that. On nights without live music, it was actually a pretty tame place. Still, I doubted Jude would be inviting Kylie to any more of his shows, which was a shame because he and his pals were good.

Kylie was still on my mind when my phone alarm went off in the middle of my pushups. I finished my set before going to get my clothes.

Speak of the devil—Kylie was in the laundry room getting a load started when I came in. My mouth spread into a grin before I could catch it. Since when did I get all goofy at the sight of a pretty girl?

But it felt different seeing her out of the suite and on her own. Like I could talk to her without worrying about bothering Sad Puppy—er, Sad Parker. Or without Jude hovering around, ready to reel me in if I did something he deemed too insensitive or crass.

Which, I admit, I was fully capable of doing, but so far, Kylie had done a good job of holding her own. That wasn’t a quality I saw in many women. “Hey,” I said, heading to the dryer.

“Hi.” She watched as I pulled out a tangled mass of warm clothes. “You’re done?”

“Yeah.”

Kylie sighed. She was sorting her remaining clothes into piles. “Can I trade you? I’ll take your clean clothes and you can wash mine?”

I grinned. “I don’t think my clothes would fit you.”

She shrugged. “One of your t-shirts would.”

That was true. It would swamp her, but she tended to favor oversized shirts anyway. Normally, that would be annoying since it hid so much of her upper body, but she made up for it by wearing very short shorts. It was a tradeoff, but since she had great legs, it was a good call.

I fished in my pile of clothes and pulled out a light gray v-neck. “You could have this one to sleep in or something.” I tossed it over to her.

Kylie ran her hands along the fabric. “It’s so soft.”

I liked the idea of her sleeping in one of my shirts… but I liked another idea even better. “It’s yours as long as you promise it’ll be the only thing you wear to bed.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Without panties? No way.”

“That thing will be so big on you it’ll go down to your knees. It’ll be like one of those nightgowns in Little House on the Prairie .”

She laughed, cradling my shirt to her chest. “If I had to guess the top ten thousand TV shows you might reference out of the blue, that wouldn’t have made the list.”

I grinned. “I like to keep you on your toes. So how about it? You get to wear a hot guy’s shirt to bed and you’ll also get to use your new toy without an extra layer in the way.”

Kylie reddened as she looked around to make sure we were still alone. “Don’t talk about that here,” she hissed.

“I’m just talking about sleepwear,” I said innocently. Except I’d never managed to sound very innocent.

She was still clutching the shirt and didn’t look inclined to let it go. “But what if some night I toss and turn, and in the morning I end up on top of my covers?”

“Then I hope to God I wake up first.” The thought of her bare legs on top of her comforter with the gray shirt having bunched up around her hips was an erotic one that I’d be revisiting soon. But then I sighed. “For the record, every time I wake up first, you’re buried under your covers like a bug in a rug. I can’t imagine you’ll stop doing that when the weather gets colder.”

She held the shirt out in front of her. It looked enormous next to her small torso. Then she folded it up. “Guess I’ve got a new sleep shirt.”

“Does that mean we have a deal?” My pulse and, hell, my cock was very interested in her answer.

“We do,” she said with a smirk, likely guessing the state I was in. The woman had balls—or whatever the female equivalent was. I had to give her that.

I willed my body to stand down as I continued to fold my clothes. Then all remaining lust fled the scene when I got to a pair of navy sweatpants. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The drawstring got pulled back inside of these sweatpants.”

She abandoned her laundry to come look. “Maybe it had performance anxiety.”

I rolled my eyes as I fiddled with the waistband of the stupid sweatpants.

“Give them here.”

Masking my surprise, I handed them over. “Trying to get into my pants?”

“Trying to get the drawstring out.”

She ran her fingers along the waistband until she located the knot at the end of the drawstring. It looked to be about eight inches from the opening. Kylie started maneuvering the fabric, inching the string along.

Shit, it was hot watching her handle my clothes. Not sure why—maybe I wished she was touching me instead of my stuff? Actually, there was no maybe about it.

I sat on the edge of the folding table as I watched her. “I’m surprised you’re not lecturing me.”

“It happens. Just remember to loosely tie the drawstring before you throw it in the washer next time.”

“Not about that. About me making a woman help with my laundry,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to be opposed to that on a molecular level?”

She had a frown of concentration on her face as she made slow progress on the drawstring, and I thought at first that she wasn’t going to answer. “Would it help if I accused you of trying to make me into a 1950s housewife?”

“That would be a start. And then I’d smirk and say that it was doubtful because I’m pretty sure they didn’t go to bed naked.”

“Half naked,” she corrected, still intent on her work.

“How’s it going?”

“Slowly.” Her brow furrowed in an adorable way as she concentrated. “If only the tip was harder, it would be easier to slide it—” She broke off abruptly, realizing what she’d just said.

My smirk was so wide that it stretched my face, but then I shook my head. “You’re helping me, so I’ll let that one go without comment.”

She grinned, turning her attention back to the sweatpants. “It’s killing you not to say anything, right?”

“You have no idea. But I can be a gentleman when I have to be.” If your standards were extremely low as to how gentlemen were supposed to behave.

“Speaking of helping, you gave me your shirt, but you added a condition. I volunteered to fix your drawstring without any conditions at all.” She cocked her head to the side and looked up at me. “What does that tell you?”

“That you missed a good opportunity?”

She laughed. “That would be the lesson you’d take from it.”

Wouldn’t anyone? “What lesson did you have in mind?”

“That friends help each other without any ulterior motives.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

The tip of Kylie’s cute pink tongue was between her teeth as she focused on the sweatpants. It looked as if she’d almost fished the string out. “You helped me once,” she said quietly.

“Did I? I must be slipping.”

She ignored that. “It was the first night I got here. You carried my stuff up from the car even though you didn’t want me to stay.”

I bit back the words that sprang to mind, but they refused to be silenced. Finally, I said, “To be honest, I didn’t not want you to stay, either.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, a hot chick shows up in our room and tries to kiss me—that’s not exactly the kind of thing I’m opposed to. But it just seemed complicated with our scholarships and all that.” I grinned. “Plus I really did think you were going to cramp our style.”

Her eyebrows rose even as warmth flooded her cheeks. “And have I?”

“Hell no. And you’ve made bedtime much more fun.”

She grinned at that. Since the first time, we’d engaged in a few other bedtime stories, so to speak. Jude was the best at them, being a creative type, but Kylie seemed to enjoy it when I added naughty details. Or at least the moans from her bed increased. The thought of her touching herself while wearing my shirt made my cock stir.

Kylie’s smile was ear to ear when she finally coaxed the damn drawstring out of the pants. She folded them carefully and handed them back to me.

“Nice,” I said after examining them. “Good thing you have such little fingers.”

“And patience,” she said. That was something I certainly didn’t have, so if she wanted to celebrate having it, more power to her.

After I took my clean laundry back to the suite, I decided to finish my workout, but I kept being distracted by the fact that Kylie was so close by. I’d passed by the laundry room and spotted her curled up on a chair in the sun like a cat. Except that cats didn’t usually read on a tablet propped up on the table next to them.

As I did bicep curls, I kept thinking about her. No surprise—she was a beautiful woman who intrigued me. But for some reason, that wasn’t what I was focusing on. No, I kept thinking about something she’d said. It had crawled into my brain and was setting up camp, keeping me from concentrating on anything else.

Finally, I gave up on the rest of my workout and went to find her. She looked up when I came in, setting aside her tablet. “I need your help,” I said bluntly.

She tilted her head to the side. “Another drawstring?”

“No.” I sighed and sat down in a chair next to her, putting my feet up on another. “Real help.”

If I’d been in Kylie’s position, I would’ve said something sarcastic, but her expression grew serious, and she rested her arms on the table, leaning forward as if to hear me better. “What’s up?”

“It’s my sister,” I said, not wanting to have this conversation, but pushing through, nonetheless. “My dad’s been on my ass about how Alyssa’s not doing very well.”

“Grade-wise?” Kylie asked.

“Everything-wise. She’s got all these projects she has to wrap up before she graduates. It’s a busy, stressful time—I remember it well.” I tried to recall what else my dad had said. He and I didn’t see eye to eye about a lot of things, and we didn’t usually discuss my half-sister. “She did a semester abroad thing that set her back, so almost all of her friends graduated in May. She doesn’t have a—a—” I couldn’t remember the term my stepmother had used. I just knew if they didn’t stop calling me about this, I was going to scream.

“A support network?” Kylie suggested.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Sounds like she needs one,” she said. “We all do.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I think she needs someone to talk to.”

Kylie smiled, and relief filled me. This was going to be easier than I thought. “So what are you going to say to her?” she asked.

Shit. I’d thought we were on the same page. “I was hoping you could talk to her.”

“Me?” It was weird how much Kylie’s voice could rise in just one syllable.

“Yeah.”

“Why? I don’t even know her.”

That might be an advantage. I knew Alyssa, and I was probably the last person who could help her out. “I figured you knew what she was going through since you just finished your undergraduate degree. And, you know, because you’re a woman.”

Kylie’s hands tightened and she took them off the table. “So since I’m a woman, I must know what all women are going through. No way you could advise her since we women are such mysterious and irrational creatures that only one of our own could possibly understand us.”

Under other circumstances, I would’ve enjoyed seeing Kylie’s flash of temper—and wondering what else got her stirred up like that.

But not now.

“The thing is, in her program there are some group projects that are worth a good chunk of the final grade, and I think she’s struggling working with her classmates.” I hesitated, not wanting to speak ill of the field that was so important to me. “Engineering is still pretty male dominated. Not like in Henderson’s day, but still, there are a lot more males in the field than females. And I think Alyssa’s having a hard time standing up for herself against the men in her group who likely tend to be arrogant and domineering. That’s why I thought it would be good if you spoke with her.”

Kylie’s expression had softened. “Why?”

“Because you stand up for yourself. Look how hard you fought to stay with us in the suite. You don’t take crap from anyone. Alyssa… she does.” An uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling tore through me. It took me a minute to recognize it for what it was: shame.

“I still think that you should—” Kylie began, but I interrupted her.

“I made her cry,” I admitted.

“What?”

“I only saw her once over the summer. My dad lives with her mom, my stepmother. My own mom died when I was nine, and then my dad hit me with the news that he had a daughter I never knew about and that he was going to marry her mother—as if my own mom had never existed. As I said, we’re not close, but I visited them a few months ago. Alyssa was there. I said something flippant and insensitive and she started crying.”

Kylie reached across the table and took my hand in hers, squeezing softly. “Have you spoken to her since?”

“Not until we saw her at the library. I sent her a text or two, but she didn’t answer.” I took a deep breath, my fingers still linked with Kylie’s. “Even if I could help her, I’m not sure she’d want me to. So please, please will you talk with her? You could just take her out to lunch and ask her how things are going and then casually impart your secrets for being a badass before dessert arrives.”

Kylie smiled at that, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced. “I really think?—”

“Please? My treat. You can take her to any restaurant in Denver. Hell, any restaurant in the state. Will you please do this for me?”

I could practically see the debate going on inside her head, but at last, she said, “Okay.”

Relief filled me. I wasn’t close to Alyssa, and I sure as hell didn’t know how to talk to her, but deep down, I wanted what was best for her. “Thank you.” I jumped up, pulling Kylie to her feet. I wrapped my arms around her small frame and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. Somehow, that wasn’t enough, and I lifted her off the ground and spun her around. She shrieked and clung to me, laughing at my exuberance.

I set her down on a washing machine that was churning like mad, intending to make a joke comparing it to her favorite toy. But once she was sitting there, her face nearly level with mine, all thoughts of that fled my mind. She looked so fucking gorgeous with her cheeks flushed and her bi-colored eyes filled with excitement. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her.

She froze as if in shock as my lips pressed against hers. I didn’t blame her—I was shocked, too, but my brain was no longer running the show. Her mouth tasted sweet and I ran my tongue along her lips, nibbling as I went.

Hesitantly, her arms came up, her wrists linking behind my neck. I pressed forward, wanting to be as close to her as possible, and her smooth legs parted, allowing me to move in.

God, this was heaven. Her sweet mouth responding to mine. Her chest pressed against me. Her thighs on either side of my hips. It made me want more.

A lot more.

The kiss deepened as she opened her mouth, letting me explore. Letting me take over. Letting me in . She moaned, and I could feel the vibration through our clothes as her breasts mashed against me. I plunged a hand into her hair, fisting it and holding her head at the perfect angle for me to ravish her mouth. Her soft moans grew louder, and my cock felt like it was going to burst out of my shorts.

Shit, this felt good. She felt good. And somehow, kissing her felt right. I wasn’t sure what the hell to do with that information, but at the moment, I didn’t care. The building could’ve fallen down around us and I wouldn’t have cared.

I probably would’ve stayed where I was forever, but the washing machine beneath her fine ass abruptly went off with a loud buzzing sound. She jumped, her mouth moving away from mine.

After the shock wore off, she laughed, and I joined in. I was still positioned between her legs, and I rested a hand on her thigh. Her skin was smooth but firm, and I wanted to explore every inch of it. But instead I shook my head, bemused. “That was supposed to be a quick ‘thank you’ kiss.”

She laughed softly and ran a finger along her swollen mouth. “It wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Then she gave me a killer smile. “I’m glad.”