Rival Romance (Rival Roommate #3)

Chapter One - 1. The Arrangement

CHAPTER ONE

The Arrangement

Taylor’s footsteps approached and I dropped the phone like it was a hot coal, my heart pounding.

“Here.” Taylor threw a damp towel at my chest, and I flinched like it was a hand grenade.

“Th-thanks,” I managed, forcing myself to relax as he settled in beside me. I wiped down my body, grateful I didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

Taylor glanced at the time on his phone, before placing it on the bedside table. “You still have a few more hours. What are you going to make me do?”

Interrogate you. Why do you have a photo album dedicated to me? Are you obsessed with me? Also why did you call it idiot?

“Um,” I began, buying time.

No, I couldn’t ask him those questions, because then he’d get defensive like he had that morning I’d asked if he liked me. His face had twisted as he spat out words like crush and love.

“Hello? You still with me?” He smirked. “Or did I dick you down that good?”

“Shut up. Also I did most of the work.” I picked up his hand, and kissed the red indentation the cuffs had left around his wrists. He watched me silently. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

He raised his brows.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

The corner of his lips tipped up. “Yes.”

If the word ‘idiot’ meant something to him, he didn’t show it. I dropped his hand, trying to suppress the disappointment I felt. What had I been hoping for?

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“You’re not an idiot,” he said, sighing. “I mean, you’re not stupid.”

“Wow. Keep the praise coming.”

“You know you’re smart.”

“Okay.”

He made a frustrated noise. “I’m your slave for a few more hours. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.” I couldn’t ask what I really wanted, because if I did, it would shatter the fragile thing between us.

It’d only been, what, five or ten minutes since we agreed to be fuck buddies.

I couldn’t mess it up by saying, I went through your phone, oh and by the way, are you infatuated with me?

If I pissed Taylor off — really pissed him off — then he wouldn’t want me anymore.

He wouldn’t touch me anymore. I couldn’t risk it. The idea alone filled me with panic.

Because, you know. The sex was so good. I couldn’t lose it now.

“Y’know what?” I said now. “Just pretend it’s midnight. We can end this early.”

“No. We stick to the rules,” he said. “I won’t let you come back in two weeks time, calling me a cheater — ”

“I would never say that!” I replied, exasperated. “This is my idea. You can go if you want.” I gestured at the bedroom door.

“No.”

“Fine, what do you want to do?”

Taylor blinked at me. I knew what he’d say before he said it — maybe because I knew him better than I thought, or being in bed together, naked, made you temporarily telepathic. “I’m the slave, you’re the —”

“One in control, yes, I know.” I held his gaze. “I compel you to tell me what you want to do.”

He held my gaze for so long, I thought he’d refuse, say safeword.

“I want to make out,” he said.

That…was not even close to what I was expecting.

Taylor glared. “You asked.”

“No, I — I’m just…why?”

“Why?” he repeated, like it was obvious. “We didn’t kiss, before. We haven’t all night.” His shoulders came up defensively.

“Is that what you really want to do?” I asked.

“Why else would I say it?” he demanded, but his testy tone was undercut by the fact that he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I dunno, it’s just —”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he snapped, starting to get up, and I grabbed his wrist and yanked him down and he let me. He landed on my chest, and it hurt, but I didn’t complain. Instead, I kissed his lips, just a little sweet peck. He pulled back to look at me, searching for something.

Don’t look guilty, don’t look guilty, don’t look guilty.

But whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find, and he settled himself on top of me, both of his legs resting between mine, and kissed me back, sweet and slow.

It was…nice. In the past, our kisses had been aggressive and rough, but in the aftermath of sweaty sex, it was nice to make out like we weren’t trying to get one over the other.

His body had pinned my arm to my chest and I wiggled it free with a little grunt.

“What?” he asked, pulling back immediately, looking alarmed.

“You’re just really fucking heavy, y’know.”

“It’s all my muscle.” He rolled off though, and I pulled him back on top of me.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it. If I suffocate, at least I’ll go in glory.”

“You’re so stupid.” He did shift his weight off me, though, so he was straddling me, his knees pressing into the mattress. He leaned in close again. “Is that better?”

“I really didn’t mind.” I put my hands on his back, feeling his shoulder blades, then trailing my fingers down his spine.

His tongue was soft and warm, and we kissed for so long, my limbs went numb.

We kissed for so long, we both got hard again, my cock pushing into Taylor’s belly while he slowly rocked his erection against my thigh.

“What was your favourite part of today?” I asked when we pulled away for breath, and Taylor had flopped down beside me, staring up at the ceiling.

He gave me a sideways look, a single brow raised.

“Apart from the sex,” I clarified. “Although, what was your favourite part of that too?”

“That’s two questions.”

“Just tell me.”

“I don’t have a favourite part of today. It was all the same.”

“That’s such a non-answer. You have to pick something.”

“I don’t know. The bus ride? The view was nice.”

I sighed. Of course he’d give that sort of response.

“And your favourite part of sex?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Giving head, I guess.”

I shot up into a sitting position. “Oh my god, you totally secretly liked the French maid costume —”

“Fuck off, I hated that. I’m going to burn it in your sleep.

” He crossed his arms, eyes still on the ceiling.

“I liked…hearing you. And seeing your reactions. And knowing that—” he cut himself off, thinking better of whatever he’d been about to say.

I was about to push him to finish his sentence when he distracted me with a question of his own. “What was your favourite part?”

I hummed. “Probably…when you tore your hand out of the handcuff.”

“You were mad I broke it,” he accused.

“I wasn’t mad,” I corrected. “Maybe I was a bit annoyed. But it was hot, seeing you lose control.” I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t embarrass myself by saying too much.

It was like you needed to touch me so bad, you wouldn’t let yourself be restrained.

That’s how much you wanted me. “Anyway. We should go to sleep. I’m exhausted. ”

“Because you insisted on doing all the work,” Taylor muttered, but he followed me into the bathroom and we stood side by side, brushing our teeth, our elbows touching because the room was too small to fit both of us.

Later, Taylor followed me back into my room, and it felt like I was being stalked by a shadow.

I turned to him. “You can sleep in your bed. If you want.”

“Is that what you want?” He held my gaze, steady.

“I don’t mind.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Archie.”

“I wouldn’t mind. If you stayed.” I felt myself flush. Why was I embarrassed? He was the one who had a photo album dedicated to me, for fuck’s sake.

“Order me to stay,” he said.

I thought about protesting, but I was too tired. “I compel you to sleep in my bed.”

He didn’t respond, just turned off the light and climbed into bed with me. I was worried we’d get too hot, the two of us cramped together, but actually, the warmth of him was nice.

Taylor curled into me, nose in my neck, and I stiffened for a moment. I could feel him inhaling and exhaling, and it was slightly ticklish.

I curled and uncurled my fingers. What was I supposed to do? Reach out and touch him? Hold him? Cuddle him?

I lay there, frozen, listening to him breathe. For a moment, I thought it would be impossible to fall asleep. But, without even realising it, my body relaxed against his, and I drifted off.

Before I woke, I dreamt of warm lips against the nape of my neck. It had been so stupid of him to deny doing that, all those mornings ago. If he just said, yes, I was kissing you, wanna have morning sex? then that’s what we could’ve done instead of wasting time avoiding each other and arguing.

That’s what we’d do now. Sure, the twelve hours were over and Taylor wasn’t my slave anymore, but we had a new arrangement. Fuck buddies. No more games, no more competitions. Just being honest with each other about our basest desires.

I opened my eyes, rolling over, already excited at the prospect of having sex again —

The other side of the bed was empty. I stretched my hands out, but the sheets were cool. How long ago had Taylor gone? An hour? Or had he left the moment I fell asleep?

My belly tightened. It was disappointment — disappointment that we weren’t going to fuck again, right this moment. That was definitely it.

I couldn’t hear any movement from the living room, or the rattle of the bathroom pipes.

I got up, put on some fresh boxers and crept towards Taylor’s bedroom.

I strained my ears but couldn’t hear anything, so put my hand on the door, leaning closer, and that’s when the door swung inwards. It had been left unlocked.

The one and only time I’d been in Taylor’s room was weeks ago, when he’d dug out that collar for me to wear as my punishment for losing a sex competition.

The bedroom had been messy then, and it was still messy now.

Sure, the bed was made, but the blankets were wrinkled, and there was a pile of clothes left on the end.

The desk was cluttered with books, stationary, an empty sports water bottle, and a plastic container of creatine.

On his bedside table was a tangle of charging cords and the red bear keychain I’d won for him at the arcade.

My fingers twitched. Part of me really wanted to snoop around, because how much did I know about Taylor, really?