Chapter 17
I’m not sure how, but my head isn’t pounding like a hammer, which I’m eternally grateful for.
Vague pieces from last night filter through, and I can’t stop the groan from escaping into my pillow.
Damn, I was pitiful. I can’t believe Roscoe had to babysit my drunk ass.
Hopefully, I didn’t say anything too ridiculous.
The sun has barely begun to rise, the first hints of its light barely peeking through my window.
It’s way too early to be up, especially after a night of drinking, but maybe if I’m quick enough, I can figure out who’s been making me breakfast in the morning.
When I sit up, I realize there’s a glass of water and a few ibuprofen waiting for me on the nightstand.
Something about that small gesture makes my silly belly do a flip.
How long has it been since someone took care of me instead of the other way around?
That thought sticks with me as I slip into the attached bathroom, take a quick shower, and pull myself together. I throw on a pair of loose boxers and a crop top, skipping the bra because I forgot it in my room, and leave my damp hair down to dry. The second I open the door, I smell it. Bacon.
Tiptoeing down the hall, my feet pause as I take in the scene in the kitchen.
In my head, Owen was the most likely culprit for the morning treats.
His steady presence and compassionate personality just seemed to fit the bill.
Imagine my surprise—though maybe that’s short sighted of me after last night—to find Roscoe at the stove, the dark skin of his back completely bare minus the thin apron strings.
His blue shorts are slung low on his hips, and the curls on top of his head appear damp.
He’s humming something softly under his breath, and my heart goes into free fall.
“So, I have you to thank for more than just last night?”
He startles, whipping around with the spatula in his hand. “Fucking hell. You scared the shit out of me.”
“I see that.” I stalk into the room, rounding the island until I can catch sight of what he’s making. “Pancakes, huh?”
He turns back to flip the one in the pan. “Yeah. On days where we all have classes with practice immediately after, it just helps to start the day off on the right foot, ya know?”
The apples of his cheeks appear a little rosy, but who knows? Maybe it’s just the heat.
“It’s sweet of you to include me in that.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Not like it’s much extra work, and you’re our…roommate now, so it’s only fair.”
The pause there makes me want to delve deeper into what he was actually going to say, but I decide to let it be for now.
“And what about last night?”
His stare penetrates straight to my soul. “You should understand by now that there’s no way in hell we’d let anything happen to you. That includes making sure you’re safe and not gonna choke on your own vomit.”
My nose scrunches up. “Gross.”
“Yeah, well, what I saw last night wasn’t exactly pretty.”
Rolling my eyes, I chuckle. “You’re not supposed to tell a girl that. You just pretend like it never happened.”
He tsks. “I don’t know. Hard to pretend I didn’t hear some interesting things.”
“Oh god.” My hands cover my face in embarrassment. “What did I say?”
With brisk efficiency, he removes the last pancake and adds it to the stack beside him on the counter. “Hmmm… I think it was something about a foursome with hands and mouths everywhere.”
My cheeks heat as I peek up at him through my lashes. “Holy hell. Don’t suppose there’s anything I could do to get you to forget everything I said in my drunken stupor?”
Setting the spatula down and turning off the burner, he leans his hip against the counter. When he looks at me this time, there’s something different in his expression I can’t make out.
“There might be something you could do…” he hedges.
“Name your price.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Didn’t stutter, baby girl.”
“Right here? What about breakfast?”
“Can always make more.” He straightens, closing the distance between us. “And I don’t give a damn if the others see. Apparently, you don’t really either.”
There’s wetness between my thighs, and my head feels a little light from the sheer intensity of the way he’s looking at me, but I straighten my shoulders and pretend I’m totally in control when I feel anything but.
“Part of me doesn’t.”
“The other part?” His large hand raises, thick fingers brushing my damp hair behind my ear, then continuing to trail down the sensitive skin of my neck.
“The other part is scared of losing herself in something that isn’t real again.”
His hand clasps behind my head, forcing me to look up into his eyes. There’s something so possessive about the gesture, something so inherently dominant about the way he controls what he wants from me, that I find myself naturally submitting to him.
“Then maybe this will help you understand just how real it is for us.”
His lips crash into mine as he pulls me up and into his chest while his other arm bands around my waist for support.
It’s like I’m being sucked into a raging inferno, but I don’t even mind being burned.
He makes this sound in the back of his throat, part moan, part growl, and before I realize what’s happening, he’s lifting me up and setting me on top of the island.
Dragging me to the edge, he steps between my legs, never breaking the kiss.
With our hips pressed together, the bulge in his shorts presses perfectly against my very desperate pussy.
A soft mewl slips free, and he gently bites my bottom lip while his hands trace along my outer thighs.
“Fuck, baby girl. Your skin is so goddamn soft.” The words flutter against my lips while rough fingertips trail up to my exposed midriff. “I want you so damn bad.”
Reaching around, I fumble with the tie of his apron, wanting to explore the smooth expanse of his chest.
“I want you too.” Tugging on the material, I pull it over his head and slide my fingers up to his pecs, enjoying the spattering of dark chest hair. “So damn bad.”
Gripping my chin, he forces my eyes to meet his.
“You sure?” he rasps.
“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”
This time, he growls against my mouth, both hands gripping the hem of my shirt and tugging it over my head. He stares down at my exposed breasts, his nostrils flaring as his breathing becomes erratic.
“You’re not wearing a bra.”
“Nope.”
“Fuck.”
“That’s the idea.”
One of his hands reaches behind me to wrap the length of my hair around his fist. With a slight tug, he forces my head back, exposing my neck.
“That smart mouth is going to get you into trouble.”
“I’m counting on it.”
The warm wetness of his mouth closes around one nipple, suckling hard. My back bows, and I’m not sure whether I want to hold him there or push him away because the sensation is so strong I can feel a throb in my core.
“You like that, baby girl?” he asks before switching to the other one.
“Oh fuck. Yes. Yes, I like that.”
I’m damn close to coming when he suddenly releases my breast with a loud pop, pressing kisses up my throat.
“I’m gonna learn every single thing you like and use it against you.”
“That doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”
“It is when I don’t let you come.”
His words are a distraction, and when the blunt ends of his fingers slip into the leg of the boxers and push my panties to the side, I gasp. My hips buck as they slide between my lips and the dampness he’s created.
“Mmm. So wet and eager. This all for me?” He leans back, removing his fingers.
I want to beg him for more. Beg him to touch me again.
But before I can do that, one hand grips the top of my boxers while the other slides around my waist to lift up just enough that he can slip them down my thighs along with my panties.
I’m bare in front of him, my ass settling on the cold granite of the countertop.
Reverently, he touches the spot he just revealed. He drags his finger through my slit and into the air, the proof of just how badly I want him glistening under the lights. When he puts that same finger in his mouth and closes his eyes, I just about combust right there on the spot.
“Shit. I need a better taste of that pretty little pussy you’ve been keeping from me.”
His hands go to my ass, pulling my hips forward a little more just as his mouth lowers. I panic, trying to pull back, but he doesn’t budge.
“No, baby girl. You don’t get to keep this from me now.”
“No one’s ever…”
He goes still, big amber eyes meeting mine. “No other man has ever tasted you on his tongue?”
Heart damn near beating out of my chest, I shake my head. Then he grins, wickedly.
“Guess Owen didn’t get all the firsts then.”
He dips back down, his tongue licking a path from back to front then circling around the little bud at the top.
My eyes are locked on what he’s doing, one hand curling around the back of his head.
I’m so close. It feels indescribable. I should be embarrassed—a man’s face is nestled in my vagina and…
Don’t guys like it to be smooth down there?
I don’t fucking know, but I can’t stop the orgasm that is quickly gaining momentum. I just need—
Two fingers plunge into me, his lips sucking hard on my clit.
Unexpectedly, I detonate, coming so hard I need to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from screaming.
Something that sounds an awful lot like a purr rumbles from his chest. I’m so lost in this punch-drunk feeling that I almost don’t notice him kissing up my belly or licking around each of my nipples.
I barely hear the rustle of his shorts being pushed to his knees.
It isn’t until he’s towering over me, bracing himself with one hand and using the other to stroke his tip through my cum that my senses start to return.