Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“ Baby, I see those thighs trembling for me. I think I know what you need, Roomie. Why don’t you lay back and let me show you how good I am with my tongue ?”
Thea jolted awake, sweat clinging to her skin as she realized it had been a dream. She also discovered her pesky hand slipped between her legs during the night. No wonder it felt so real . Her body was a traitor.
She hadn’t had a sex dream in, well, forever. I knew living under the same roof as him would cause something like this . If he would only wear a freaking shirt.
As Thea sleepily rubbed her eyes and walked to the kitchen, Draven’s presence surprised her. He typically slept till close to eleven. Granted, he had not had a show last night. And due to the one-week sex ban, he was not hooking up at all hours of the night .
Draven stood by the coffee maker and held up a blue Post-it. “ Coffee? ”
Tempting. The hot liquid smelled as delicious as the man making it. She shook her head and wrote, “ Too much caffeine in the morning can make my ears ring .”
He tilted his head as he read that and nodded.
The kitchen was not tight, but his presence was massive. As a tall, broad-shouldered man, he blocked the main cabinets and drawers she needed to get into for her cereal bowl and spoon.
And damn, the view of his naked back left her breathless and horny again. The lines and ridges of his muscular back snared all of her half-awake attention. I need a cold shower .
She stepped forward to reach over his shoulder for the upper cabinet.
She misjudged his height, and her arm brushed over his right shoulder as he stood in front of the coffee maker. At the minimal touch, her breath caught in her throat, and the memory of the sex dream seared itself into the frontal lobe of her brain.
Her smooth forearm glided over his toned shoulder again as she pulled a bowl from the cabinet. Goosebumps raced to claim her skin. Awareness crackled through her with its intense electricity.
Dang it , she cursed her body for how reactive it was for him.
His back stiffened at her slight touch, muscles clenching and on complete display due to his shirtless-ness. The ridges making up his tantalizing back were nearly enough to make her sleepy-self swoon.
Were the jumping movements of his muscles signs that he felt the same electric hyperawareness around her too? His hands bunched into fists on the counter as if he fought himself to not touch her.
I still need a spoon .
When she moved to reach around his waist to get to the silverware drawer, he spun around. He accidentally aligned his crotch directly with where her hand extended.
She gasped, but the movement happened so quickly that there was no way to stop it.
Her fingers brushed lightly over the crotch of his sweatpants, landing there.
Landing on something hard.
Both of them froze. Wide-eyed, they stared at each other, neither moving—neither breathing.
Her hand was on his cock.
Well, directly over it. A thin, thin layer of light gray sweatpants separated Thea’s fingers from Draven’s hardening dick. The fabric was thin enough for her to tell that he was not wearing boxers. And he was, uh, growing .
Thick, hazy lust wrapped a firm hand around her throat and throttled her.
She should have removed her fingers from him the second they touched. She knew every second that ticked by of keeping her hand there was inappropriate. You don’t want him thinking you’re trying to hook up with him, do you? she chided herself. Step. Away .
She couldn’t. Her lungs wrung every ounce of oxygen from her, leaving her so breathless that thinking felt like too much of a sport.
Glancing up from where her hand still laid over his crotch, she met his gaze. Her body could have melted to the floor in desire.
His eyes blazed . They did not burn; they destroyed—like a forest fire of need. The lust-drunk expression on his face was nearly violent. Like he wanted to scoop her up in his arms, throw her onto the closest soft surface, and fuck the life out of her.
Or maybe she was just projecting that. After all, surely the drummer only knew how to have rough, earth-shattering sex.
Breathe, Thea .
His lips moved, saying something.
She would have killed to know what he said at that moment.
Had he asked her to release his stiffening cock from his sweatpants? To touch him, stroke him? Did he want her as much as she wanted him?
Even though it shouldn’t have, the idea of this punk rock star on a sex-ban, full of pent-up passion that all got focused on her… Mmm , it made her shiver.
She was sure a psychologist would inform her that, after losing her long-term boyfriend to infidelity, her attraction and desire for Draven was somehow an act of lashing out to prove her sex appeal. If Draven, a sex-god, who could have literally anyone he wanted, but he wanted her, then, yeah, she would feel better about herself. Who wouldn’t ?
But was that all it was?
His tongue dabbed out to suggestively lick those plush lips again. Nostrils flaring, he reached down to wrap his fingers around her delicate wrist, but he did not remove her hand from him. He did not insistently push her fingers firmer against him either. He just held her wrist and stared her down with fierce, narrowed eyes.
She stared intently at his lips as he spoke again. He seemed to be repeating a phrase. She cursed herself for her lack of talent for reading lips. Say it again, Draven. Maybe I’ll get it this time .
He repeated whatever it was again, and both of them seemed to peak in their frustration.
Thea had always preferred her silent, peaceful world. But in this moment, she wished she could have heard him. She wished he knew sign language. She wished…
This time, Draven did pull her hand away, but not before his cock thickened and jerked behind the thin material, rubbing against and seeking her fingers.
She swallowed as his strong jaw visibly ticked. He dropped her wrist to reach in front of himself and realign his erection to a more comfortable state.
Big erection. She swallowed again.
He said something and pointed toward the bathroom. Shower. He stiffly spun and walked briskly away from her.
She palmed her reddening face. I just groped a rock star, and he got hard under my hand . She opened her mouth and let out a silent scream.
If Mallory found out… Mal would think Draven “seduced” Thea and possibly murder him. Meanwhile, Thea felt ready to be the seducer.
The way he looked at me . A vibrating volcano about to blow. Her core tightened and ached between her legs. Her nipples pushed against the front of her sleep shirt in tiny peaks. She had loved Alec, but she had never in her life felt raw, carnal attraction like this.
When Draven held her wrist and stared at her with a dominating order shining in his eyes of “ Do something about it ,” she had wanted to fall to her knees, pull his straining erection free, and take him into her mouth. She wanted to challenge him. She wanted to see the sex god’s eyes roll into the back of his head because of her .
She needed to cool down.
But wait, could Draven be going to shower or to “take care” of himself? The mere thought of the drummer touching himself had her thighs clenching together as another rush of lust rippled through her.
Considering Draven reemerged after less than ten minutes without wet hair, Thea’s question was answered. What did he imagine when he came ? She couldn’t let the moment drop.
Some annoying and self-sabotaging part of her wrote on her notepad and showed him, “ Did you really just jerk off? ”
With a tense jaw and lips pressed thinly together, Draven read her note and nodded.
Heat overwhelmed Thea. It was worse than when he messed with the thermostat. Her clit pulsed between her legs with every beat of her heart.
He took her notebook from her, stole her pen right from her trembling fingers, and wrote, “ This will be my fourth day in a row without sex, you wore shorts last night, and you touched my dick this morning. The big guy needed some lovin’ .”
Her mouth fell open. First, he called his dick “big guy.” Second, one of the reasons he listed was because he had seen her in shorts. A man who had women flash him at shows had gotten aroused by her in shorts? Warmth spread over her chest.
“ Any other questions about my jacking off, or can I make myself some breakfast? ” he wrote.
She held her breath as he moved in front of the kitchen island, where she sat on a barstool and ate her cereal. He grabbed a bowl and a spoon. When he reached for his cereal box sitting on top of the fridge, his back muscles rippled, and Thea let out a little, breathy sigh—which he must have heard because he stiffened for a moment.
He poured a large amount of cereal into his bowl, then he turned to the refrigerator and pulled out the half-gallon carton of almond milk. He froze as he closed the fridge door.
Thea swallowed again, her body tensing as it sensed his displeasure.
He shook the light blue carton, weighing it in his large hand and making it painfully obvious that the container was much emptier than he expected.
Great, he’s going to accuse me of stealing his milk again . Thea lifted another spoonful of cereal to her mouth and crunched loudly. I bought that damn milk .
Draven’s fiery eyes narrowed on her and her full bowl of cereal as he placed his bowl in front of her. Maintaining eye contact with her, he slowly tipped the almond milk, but it let out a thin trickle of liquid, hardly enough for the big bowl of cereal he poured himself.
Uh, oh .
With a clenched, frustrated jaw, he pointed to the milk, then slapped a hand onto his chest, over his heart.
Thea accidentally dropped her spoon into her bowl.
Because unbeknownst to him, his gesture had just been very close to using sign language. Close to communicating, “ My milk .”
Thea still sat with wide eyes, shocked at his attempt to communicate with her without paper notes. Hearing people never attempted to sign to her. Too much effort , she thought grimly.
Thinking she did not understand him, Draven made the same move again. He pointed to the milk and thumped his flat hand over his chest. Milk. Mine . His angry smolder scorched through the space between them and caressed down her arms, leaving little flames in its wake.
So hot .
Her body would not freaking shut up about how hot she found him. How hot he made her feel . Her nipples were tight little beads behind her shirt, pebbling to peaks. Could he see them? Could he tell?
And then he… He actually signed. He used the real hand motions to sign in American Sign Language. “ My milk .”
Thea’s jaw dropped.
He learned how to sign…for me? Yes, he learned a specific two-word phrase to be passive-aggressive and pick a fight with her, but… He learned to really sign for this interaction with me. Maybe he didn’t realize how jaw-dropping that was to her.
Everyone assumed Thea should conform to understand them. People assumed she could read their lips. People used pen and paper to communicate—all in structured English, her second language.
People had never cared to try to sign for her. They had simply assumed she would try for them.
But at that moment, Draven cared so much about communicating with her that he had learned to speak in her language.
My milk.
And the way he stared at her, with such pulsating rage—that made no sense, considering it was just a carton of milk—stunned her. It ignited something inside her.
Growing flustered and under the guard of the kitchen island, she crossed her legs, pressing them together to ease some of the prominent ache occurring between them.
I’ve never been turned on by anger , she thought. But Draven’s anger was a lot like the rest of him. Never scary, but still dark, dramatic, and drop-dead sexy.
She signed back, mimicking his motions because he had made them perfectly, “ My milk .”
A vein pulsed in his forehead as his lips flattened.
The room’s temperature rose to match a greenhouse where radiation and heat of pure sunlight penetrated her.
They were about to have…a conversation. Without pen and paper.
Had she ever been so turned on?
He pointed to the milk, rubbed his fingers together—the international sign for money—and he palmed his chest again. Basically, he signed, without knowing the official way to sign, “ I bought it .”
Thea made the same gesture back to him. Because she had bought it.
He shook his head, his expression screaming, “ Liar .”
She shook her head back. It was her milk. It was not her problem if he had to go to a store and buy his own or risk calcium deficiency. It was called being responsible, which was clearly foreign to this drummer.
His lips curled back, revealing perfect white teeth. She could not be sure, but it looked like he was growling.
God, he was just such an animal .
Thea shifted on the kitchen island barstool once more, pressing her legs together harder as that ache continued to swirl around her lower abdomen. Her clit tingled for him, begging for pressure. For touch .
She grabbed her pen and pad of paper and quickly wrote, “ Look, we both know I bought the milk. Now, do I need to pull out a receipt, or are we done here? Please gently place the milk back in the refrigerator. —Your respectful roommate .”
She showed him her note. It was like a dam broke open.
Draven’s lips separated on a curse as he gripped the milk to his body. For a moment, Thea couldn’t help but be jealous of the inanimate milk carton, which was lucky enough to be up close and personal with his hard body. As it was, her brain fought to ignore the persistent throbbing between her legs at his unbreakable attention on her.
Draven did the unthinkable.
He uncapped the milk and raised the bottle to his lips. Just when he appeared ready to guzzle its contents, instead, he slid his tongue around the rim. That pink fleshy tongue grazed over the circled rim, claiming it in strong, controlled strokes that had Thea’s heart racing in response. The way he curled and flattened his tongue… The way he licked it…
Was this porn? It had to qualify as some kind of porn.
Because the sight of Draven doing something so wickedly inappropriate with his tongue to a milk carton fueled the kind of fantasies and desires Thea did not realize were inside her. He really is talented with the ladies, huh?
After the tongue-lashing show of a lifetime and some insane jealousy over a dairy product, Thea watched in silent shock as Draven twisted the cap back onto the milk, which was practically empty, and threw it back into the fridge.
Isn’t that what he does with all his conquests? Thea reminded herself. Tastes them, ruins them, then casts them aside?
Draven hostilely stole her pen and jotted down a response to her note before dropping it onto the counter in front of her and strutting back to his room like he knew exactly how good he looked walking away.
His note read, “ If I lick it, it’s mine .”
Beholden to an odd, inexplicable instinct, Thea slid the note into her pajama pants pocket and kept it.
Panties damp and body overheating, she tried not to wonder what it would mean for him to lick her. What that strong, skillful tongue would feel like dragging against her quivering body. If I lick it, it’s mine .
What would it be like to be claimed in such a possessive way?
What would it be like to be his?