Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Callie
It’s been two weeks since Hayes and the entire country found out about the pregnancy, and thankfully the Colts have been traveling more than at home. It’s the best thing that can happen when you’re pregnant, sexually frustrated, and lusting after your roommate.
Because if Foster was here, I’m pretty sure we would’ve already slept together, which is why, since he’s due home tonight, I’m going to get off before I have to see him in the morning.
I drag my vibrator down my body under the covers, opening my thighs, heat already pooling low in my belly.
The soft buzz starts, and my imagination drifts away to Foster.
It’s not even a full, clear picture—just flashes of memory.
The way he looks at me with heavy eyes, his mouth set as though he’s holding himself back from tackling me onto the bed, his hands fisted at his sides as though he doesn’t trust himself not to touch me.
The way he stands too close, as though he wants to touch me but is trying to respect the line we put in place.
My stomach flips.
I’m doing this for relief. I’m releasing a pressure valve before he returns home tonight. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure the minute he walks in, I’d follow him into his bedroom and strip naked.
My body shivers with pleasure as the vibrator hums between my legs.
I think about his voice when he says my name—low, rough, like how he’d use it if we were in bed together. I think about his hands, big and capable, and the way they’d feel on my skin.
I squeeze my eyes shut, but it only worsens my want for him.
Heat gathers, tight and insistent, and my breath stutters. I press my lips together to keep quiet even though I’m alone and no one can hear me. I lose myself in the hum, the rhythm, and the delirious slow build.
And then my thoughts shift, too dangerous and, more importantly, too honest.
What if I took him up on his offer? A second chance with him, but this time, what if we didn’t rush, but he took his time to prove himself? What if he made me tell him that I was his and made me hate him for it and love him for it in the same breath?
My body tightens. My pulse thumps hard in my throat.
I’m close. My arousal’s rising, right at the edge where everything goes sharp and bright and—
The vibrator sputters to a stop.
No. No, no, no.
I press the button again.
It buzzes, but weaker now, like a car starter trying to turn over and failing.
“Fuck no!” I jam my thumb on the button.
One more pathetic little vibration sputters out.
Then nothing.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
I click the button again. Once. Twice. Three times. And still nothing.
I throw my head back onto the pillow and let out a strangled, frustrated groan. Of course. Of course this happens when I’m finally—finally—almost there. I drop the vibrator onto the sheets between my legs.
My chest rises and falls. My body is still wired and unsatisfied. I stare at the ceiling again.
And the worst part?
If it really was Foster, I wouldn’t have to worry about batteries.
I hate how much my body betrays me, wanting him all the time.
I toss off the covers and grab the vibrator, on the hunt for batteries. I know I haven’t bought any, but Foster seems like a pretty prepared guy, so I’m sure he has a stash somewhere or at least a flashlight I can take them out of.
The living room light is on since I kept it at a dim setting, so Foster doesn’t come home to a dark house.
I head to the kitchen drawer he seems to shove a lot of miscellaneous things in.
I dig around, but all I find is plasticware from takeout, chopsticks, some soy sauce packets, pens, and a few pads of paper.
I shut the drawer and look around his space, heading over to the table by the door. There’s one drawer, but all that’s in it are some chargers, charging cords, and a set of keys. I pick them up and inspect them, unsure what they’re for, then put them back in the drawer.
“You have to have batteries somewhere.”
Then the remote comes to mind. I head to the living room, unclicking the back of the remote, but it takes double As, and I need triple.
“Damn it.”
He’d probably have his electric razor with him. He only uses the microwave for a clock, which takes those off the list. My eyes snag on his bedroom door.
“Hmm…”
It’s my last option.
I slowly push open his door. Being in his space without him knowing feels intrusive, but he’s never told me I can’t come in here. Just like before, his bed is made and everything is neat and organized. I search his drawers, trying not to move anything out of place.
His drawer of boxer briefs is all black. Seriously, no color? He needs a little color in his life.
His shirts are stacked, neat and orderly. No surprise there.
“Do guys keep toys?” I go to his nightstand, praying he’s got something. A cock ring maybe? Although after our orgasm conversation, I’m pretty sure he’s not into marathon sex sessions where you use toys and explore.
I open the nightstand drawer, and my shoulders fall, all hope dying because there’s nothing but a box of condoms, a pen, and a pad of paper. Nothing of any use to me. I slam the drawer shut.
I pick up my vibrator and realize if I’m going to get off, I’m gonna have to use my fingers, which is fine but inefficient and doesn’t always work.
As I’m about to step out of his room, like déjà vu, the lock slides over on the condo door.
Jesus, not now.
I cross the foyer and move past the kitchen to reach my room, but the door opens before I can escape inside it.
“Callie?”
I whip around, and the vibrator slips out of my grasp, dropping with a thud onto the floor. You might as well strip me bare for him to see.
His gaze drifts down to it and back to me.
Foster steps into the condo without a word, shutting the door and flicking the lock. He looks good. Really, really good. Black jeans, black T-shirt with tattoos sneaking up over the neckline and down his arms, no hat. I bite my lip, my unsatisfied pussy begging me to throw caution to the wind.
“What are you doing?” He walks over to his bedroom door, drops his bag, and breaks the distance, getting closer.
I bend down and swipe the vibrator up, putting it behind my back. “Nothing. I was just—”
“Let’s not insult my intelligence.”
Damn me for being a polite roommate and leaving the living room light on for him.
I finally give up the act. “Fine, if you must know, I was pleasuring myself and my vibrator died.”
“Pleasuring yourself?” His eyebrows raise. “Mid orgasm?”
“I hadn’t gotten there yet.”
“And you’re out here because you were going to hump the couch?”
I scoff then glare at him. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs. “It is your favorite thing in this condo. It’s a logical theory.”
“It is not. I was looking for batteries. What kind of man doesn’t have batteries?”
He chuckles and walks over to the fridge, pulls a water out, and twists it open, his eyes never leaving mine. “One who doesn’t rely on sex toys.”
“That’s sad.”
“My fist does the job just fine.”
“Must be nice. You men have it so easy.”
I haven’t left the doorframe of my bedroom because I’m terrified I’ll do something I shouldn’t, because we’re in worst-case territory here. I’m highly aroused, and now he’s standing in front of me looking all bad boy hot with lickable tattoos after he saved the game today, and the Colts won.
“I don’t know, your clit has more than double the amount of nerve fibers as my dick.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “Doing some research, I see?”
It’s hot that he is. That after our conversation, he actually cares about giving a woman an orgasm and is reading up on it.
“If you know anything about me, you should know I don’t want to be mediocre at anything.”
“No one said you were mediocre.”
“I didn’t give you an orgasm. That makes me less than mediocre actually.” He takes his water and heads toward his room. “Don’t forget that the offer still stands. And tonight it looks like you could use a little relief.” He shoots me a wicked grin over his shoulder.
I glare at him. “Don’t play games.”
He turns around and puts his water on his dresser, before resting his hands on the top of the doorframe, his long body stretching. “I’m not playing games. I might not vibrate, but I have fingers, a tongue, and a cock that you can use and abuse.”
I stare at him, trying to quiet the noise of my pussy screaming at me, wondering why we’re not already across the room.
“We shouldn’t.” Even I can hear that I don’t really mean it.
“It’s just bodies, Callie. And I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t mind celebrating my win tonight.”
I bite my lip, desperately wanting to accept his offer.
I press the button on my vibrator, and it doesn’t magically start. Which means it’s not an option.
His heated gaze sweeps down my body, and my resistance shatters on the floor like glass.
“One time only.” I toss the vibrator on my bed and cross the main room to his bedroom. “One and done.”
Yeah right, Callie.
His arms drop off the doorframe, swiftly picking me up when I get close to the door. I wrap my arms around his neck, and our mouths collide, his tongue meeting mine, my hand fisting his hair.
Fuck, why on Earth did we wait this long?
He’s instantly hard, and I’m already halfway there, so there’s no way I won’t come this time even if he doesn’t go slow.
We’re crossing into dangerous waters, but I don’t give a shit. We can handle whatever comes next.