Chapter 7
EASTON
I pushed open the suite door, motioning for Natalie to go in first, and the second she stepped through the threshold, she whirled around like she’d just walked into a crime scene.
“This is not romantic. So don’t get any ideas,” she declared immediately, her blue eyes wide and accusatory, as if I had personally laid out the rose petals and queued up the soft jazz.
I leaned against the doorframe and surveyed the room. “I don’t know, Trouble…” I gave her a slow once-over before letting my gaze sweep the suite. “Seems awfully romantic to me.”
The B&B had gone full Hallmark Channel in here.
Vaulted ceilings, twinkling lights on a pine-scented tree tucked into the corner, a fireplace crackling beneath a garland-draped mantel, and a bed so big and plush it could’ve moonlighted as a marshmallow.
Add in the floor-to-ceiling windows and the fur rug and—yeah.
Whoever designed this suite wanted people to get naked and emotional.
And judging by the way Natalie’s mouth had parted slightly as she looked around, she agreed.
She spun toward me, hands on her hips. “I’m sleeping on the couch,” she spat out .
I smirked, dropping my bag on the bed. “As I said downstairs,” I drawled, kicking off my boots, “I don’t mind sharing.”
Natalie made a sound that I could only describe as a rage-gargle. “Not. Happening.”
I held up my hands, all faux innocence. “Hey, your call. Although, if memory serves, you did once say I was the human equivalent of a weighted blanket.”
She glared so hard I half expected the tree lights to short-circuit. Honestly, it was impressive. That kind of fury? Still hot.
I stretched my arms over my head, letting my shirt ride up just enough to tease. She noticed. Oh, she definitely noticed. Her eyes flicked—just for a second—then snapped back up like she hadn’t just taken a mental screenshot of my abs. Victory.
“But since we’re clearly setting boundaries,” I said casually, already walking toward the bathroom, “you should know I’m about to take a shower.”
Her arms were still crossed, her lips pursed. “Thank you for that information. That is good roommate behavior.” She sniffed. “I’ll expect that level of respect for the remainder of the week.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Of course,” I said smoothly. “I’ll try to be as good a roommate as Casey.”
The sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a wounded animal.
She knew I’d been keeping tabs. Not everything.
Not yet. But the breadcrumbs? I was dropping them with calculated precision.
Maybe one day I’d tell her how many hours I’d spent clicking through photos of her and her friends.
How I knew what coffee shop she studied at.
How many times I’d come close to jumping on a plane just to see her face in person.
How I was the one who’d temporarily disabled Old Bessie so I could have more time with her…
But for now?
This was way more fun.
Stepping into the bathroom, I left the door open. Just a crack . Just enough to let the steam creep out. Just enough to drive her insane .
I knew her too well.
Natalie might claim to hate me. She might fight me every step of the way. But she loved my body.
The second the water started, I imagined her out there—arms crossed, legs curled up under her, probably pretending to scroll on her phone while doing everything in her power not to listen. Not to think about me. Not to picture me naked.
But she would.
I braced a hand against the tile, my head falling forward as the hot water pounded against my back.
Steam rose like smoke from a fire I couldn’t put out, and the ache that had been pulsing since she landed in that bush—since her eyes locked with mine like she hated how much she still wanted me—intensified to something feral.
I palmed my dick, exhaling sharply through my nose as the pressure surged through me. My hand closed tight, stroking slow, deliberate.
My brain went straight to her. Always her. Her lips parted. Her thighs spread. That sweet, soft gasp when I pushed inside her tight pussy.
I hissed, gripping tighter, moving faster.
I wasn’t just turned on…I was possessed.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, hips rocking as I imagined her slipping into the bathroom, whispering my name, dropping to her knees. Her mouth hot and wet, her eyes locked with mine.
Grabbing some more soap, I slid my fist up and down my shaft, gasping at how good it felt. This was way better than usual. Fucking my hand while my metaphorical dream girl was just outside…much better than doing it alone.
My balls tightened, the coil snapping with an almost violent rush.
“Natalie,” I groaned loudly as an orgasm crashed through me, my cum splattering against the tiled wall.
I wasn’t going to wash it off, either. That spot was sacred now.
It was practically a shrine. It would give me spank-bank material for weeks, picturing her naked body in this shower with my cum all over the wall.
I stood there a minute longer, trying to pull myself together. The aftershocks still hummed through my body, my hand braced against the slick tile as I took slow, deep breaths.
It had never been like that before. Not once since she’d dumped me.
Because she hadn’t just been in my head.
She was twenty feet away.
That changed everything.
When I finally felt like I could walk without falling over, I shut the water off and reached for a towel, making sure it hung low on my hips.
I knew what my V did to her. I’d seen her brain short-circuit over it more than once.
And now, after almost two years of personal trainers, meal plans, and shirtless photo shoots… it had only gotten better.
Weapons-grade abs, thank you very much.
I stepped out of the bathroom like I was walking into battle, and there she was, curled up on the couch with her phone clutched in her hands like it might protect her.
I smirked.
There was no way she hadn’t heard me say her name in there.
She didn’t look up right away, but I saw her eyes flick—just for a second—before she snapped them back to her screen like she hadn’t noticed I was only wearing a towel and all of her fantasies.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?” I asked, my voice dipped in velvet and sin as I raked a hand through my damp hair.
She whipped her head up. Her pupils dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her lips parted for just a second before she snapped her mouth shut like it was a trap and turned away so fast that it was a miracle she didn’t give herself whiplash.
I bit back a laugh, sauntering over to my bag on the floor near the fireplace. I bent at the waist, slowly, purposefully, knowing she was looking. Even if she swore she wasn’t.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shifting—legs crossing tighter, body tensing, her knuckles white around her phone.
Time to up the stakes.
I stretched.
And let the towel drop.
It hit the hardwood with a soft, innocent little thud .
She made a noise.
It wasn’t a word. It wasn’t even a full gasp. It was a tiny, strangled squeak , like a startled chipmunk.
I straightened slowly, rolling my shoulders like my ass wasn’t visible right now, and turned my head just in time to see her eyes widen, huge, round, full-on Disney-princess horror—and then her hands slapped over her face.
“Fucking hell!” she screeched in a strangled, crazy -sounding voice. “Nope, nope, nope.”
And then she bolted.
Straight for the door.
Natalie hated running. So I was kind of mad at myself for not filming such a rare occurrence.
Although, I guess she could have picked up running since she’d left for college. I frowned at that thought.
“Natalie,” I called, grinning now, not bothering to move. “Come back. I was going to offer you the bathroom next.”
She smacked into the frame on her way out—actually bounced off it—before recovering and disappearing into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind her.
I smirked, bending down to pick up my towel, very pleased with myself.
Natalie could say what she wanted.
But that girl was not over me.
NATALIE
I didn’t stop running until I made it down to the lobby, and then I whipped out my phone as I gasped for breath because exercise…Turns out it was hard.
Me: DEFCON 10!
Riley: Oh good, I was wondering when we would hit that level. Although, I’m pretty sure there are only 5 levels.
Me: One of you has to come get me.
Me: Immediately.
Casey: Now, why would we do that when you’re having so much fun.
Me: …
Riley: The boys have taught you so well.
Me: I saw his ass.
Casey: …
Riley: …
Riley: No talking about asses with my flufferkins.
I scoffed. Jace would be reading over her shoulder.
Me: Go away, Jace. This is a DEFCON 10.
Riley: Sorry about that. Proceed with talking about asses.
Me: I saw it.
Casey: Ok, well, yes, you said that.
Me: And we might be sharing a room.
Casey: WHAT????
Me: Hey, don’t be so shouty.
Riley: IT FEELS LIKE A SHOUTY SITUATION!
Casey: How did this happen?
Me: Well, you know how I sometimes don’t read my emails?
Casey: You mean you never read your emails. Go on.
Me: Well, I may have missed the email that told me to book my room.
Riley: Did you see if there was anyone else you could room with?
I scoffed, eliciting a look from Margaret at the front desk, who was eyeing me like she knew exactly what had happened upstairs.
This was all her fault.
Me: Of course I tried to find a different roommate. The choices were a bunkhouse with toddlers and plastic sheets or Easton. I did my best. You know how I feel about toddlers.
Riley: What about your grandma?
Casey: The grandmother who’s blind?
I blinked at the phone before remembering the football game where I’d said that.
Me: No, remember. She’s not blind. And no, she’s not an option.
Riley: Why not?
Me: Once I tell you, you’re never going to be able to unremember it.
Riley: Ophelia said to tell you that unremember is not a word. But alrighty then.