“Austin—”
With a smirk, she held the bottle over her head and opened her mouth. I stared, slack-jawed, as she poured the chocolate syrup and gulped, only to have part of it spread down her chin and onto her white tank top, and farther into her cleavage.
Shit, it shouldn’t have been hot.
It was messy as hell.
But she was right. I wanted to clean it up right away.
And yet, I couldn’t look away.
My dick jumped when she licked her lips and sucked chocolate off her thumb, only to eye me up and down and say, “Want some?”
“Sure.” I uncrossed my arms and made my way over to her, but when she handed me the bottle, I pushed it away and licked the sauce off her chin, moving down to her chest. Then I jerked her shirt over her head, sucking each nipple until she started panting.
“I didn’t get chocolate there.”
“My eyes were closed—I just wanted to be sure,” I whispered hoarsely against her skin. “Look, more chocolate.” I moved down her stomach and tugged her shorts to the floor.
She shivered. “Okay, now I know you’re full of it, I didn’t get chocolate anywhere near my—”
I licked, then I sucked until I could have sworn she orgasmed against my lips. “You were saying?”
“I was wrong.” And then she was putting chocolate on her fingers and spreading it wherever she wanted me to kiss.
“A map, how thoughtful.” I licked each spot.
“I’m a helper like that. Just think of me like your own personal compass.”
I laughed against her skin, the vibrations making my lips buzz with each kiss and movement of my tongue.
“I love your mouth,” she admitted, knees shaking together. “It’s the perfect mouth, have I told you that before? I may build a shrine—and here we worship Thatch’s lips, king of—”
“And here”—I flicked her with my tongue—“I worship yours.”
“Clever.”
I sucked harder. “Yeah, I thought so.”
Her ragged breathing was making it impossible to think straight as I gripped her by the hips and stood, then kicked my boxer briefs down and off while she wiggled against me.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” I groaned.
“Are you filing an official complaint?”
“Yes. And I’m charging you with making me lose sleep. Again. Death by chocolate . . .”
“Chocolate should always give orgasms, Thatch. You’re a doctor, you should know these things.”
“Yes, how silly of me to forget about that chapter during med school.”
“That’s why I’m here.” She reached up with sticky hands and tugged my head down to her mouth. She tasted like chocolate and heat. “Take me.”
“With pleasure,” I growled, sinking into her heat and pushing away every shred of guilt I still felt whenever I took more of her—without dealing with the giant lie that separated us.
“Love you,” she breathed against my neck as I moved within her. “So much, Thatch.”
“I love you too.” God, I was such a bastard. “No matter what.”
I added that last part for myself.
Chapter Thirty-Four
AUSTIN
Things were going too well.
And suddenly, that morning, I had that weird feeling where I could almost taste the tension in the air. Something felt wrong as I got ready for my last class to turn in my final assignment and found Thatch gone. I got the sense that the universe was shifting again and not in my favor.
It was the same feeling I’d had the night of our breakup.
He never left before me.
Except for that one time when he was helping his neighbor.
Concerned, I sent him a quick text and checked the time. The last thing I needed was to get docked points for being late to my final class, even though I’d completely killed that assignment.
Five hundred people had started following my journey into plastic surgery—though I think most of it had to do with Thatch just being that good-looking. I’d have been addicted to the blog too—and Thatch being Thatch, he didn’t care that I added pictures of him to a few of the posts, as long as patients weren’t part of them.
No text back.
I eyed the orange juice on the counter and took a swig.
Still cold.
So he couldn’t have left that long ago, right?
Shrugging it off, I grabbed my backpack and keys and made sure to lock up the apartment.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I nearly ran into a man coming up the stairs. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was thinning near his very deep widow’s peak.
“Oh, sorry.” I smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t see you.”
He snorted and then looked at the door I had just come out of. “You another of his one-night stands?”
Bristling, I fought to keep myself from yelling at a stranger and said in a chipper voice, “Actually, I’m his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend.” He crossed his arms. He smelled like whiskey and cigarettes. “He broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago.”
And what? Got drunk with his neighbor and told him?
“Yeah, that’s me.” I nodded and backed away slowly. “Well anyway, have a great day.”
The man snorted. “Haven’t had a good day since that bitch ruined my life.”
“Alright then.” I waved. “Well, I’m sorry about that.”
His eyes were furious. “You should be.”
Okay, I needed either to get the hell out of there or call the cops.
“I have mace,” I whispered, my hand on my cell phone screen just ready to swipe and dial 911.
He barked out a laugh and then another. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, sweetheart. This”—he pointed at himself—“is your future, especially if you marry Thatch.”
Yeah, I officially hated Thatch’s neighbor.
“Sounds lovely,” I said in a sarcastic tone.
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know shit. Then again, I imagine he’s just waiting to drop the bomb on you like he did me—now look at me!” He flailed his arms wide. “Woke up in my own vomit.”
“This has been a really great conversation, but I need to go.” I backed away toward the door and then made a run for it down the street to my car. Once I got inside, I locked my doors with shaking hands and dialed Thatch’s number.
It went straight to voice mail.
I started the car and headed toward campus, thankful that I could at least focus on something, no matter how irritating, instead of the creepy next-door neighbor.
I shuddered again and quickly turned off my car, then made a mad dash toward the business building.
Only to find a note on the door:
Email me your final thoughts on your project, what you learned, and how you can apply it, by five thirty this evening. Professor Asshole. Fine, so it didn’t say “Asshole”; I added that part.
Ugh. Creepy run-in with the neighbor, and all for nothing. I could have slept in! Drunk all of Thatch’s chocolate milk and then overanalyzed our relationship!
With a grimace, I stomped back to my car, got in, and checked my phone.
Still nothing from Thatch.
Should I be worried?
It just wasn’t like him.
Not at all.