The House Mate (Roommates #3)

“What? No.” She shook her head. “I fell asleep reading. You look like you had a fun night.”


Her lips quirked, and I tried my hardest to remember why I wasn’t supposed to cross the room and kiss her face, but nothing was coming to mind.

“Looks like you could use some water. Come on.” She motioned for me to follow her, and I was careful to close the door quietly behind me before doing just that.

In the kitchen, she had a glass with ice water waiting for me, and was opening a bottle of ibuprofen I kept above the sink.

“I don’t need that,” I muttered, then gulped the crisp, cold water. I made a mental note to drink more water. It was so refreshing.

“Do it for my sake then,” she said, holding out a few pills in her palm. I took them and popped them in my mouth, if only in hopes that it would make her smile at me with those straight white teeth of hers.

“Okay, time for bed, I think. What do you say?”

She strolled away and I followed her again, this time watching her curvy hips sway beneath her boxer shorts as she moved. My cock flexed, waking from its drunken slumber to weigh in on the view.

She led me up the stairs and into my bedroom. I flicked on the light as we stepped in. On the nightstand sat a single cupcake with a little “Happy Birthday” flag stuck into the perfect swirl of chocolate icing.

I blinked, staring at it in wonder. “Did you make that for me?”

“Dylan and I did.” She shrugged. “It was nothing.” Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, and I stepped toward her.

“It’s not nothing. You do so much for me.” I took her hand, wanting to thank her, but the second I touched her skin, that damn electric pulse shot through my veins and I wanted to pull her closer, to smell the sweet lavender of her hair again. To feel her lips against mine.

There was a reason I shouldn’t. I knew it was in there somewhere, but damn it all if I could think of it right now—especially not with her silky hair hanging down her back and her cute little short-shorts framing that perfect ass.

I glanced down at her hand, closing one eye again to stop the double vision, and wondered if it would be weird if I bent over and kissed it like they did in olden times. Luckily, she pulled it away from me before I drunkenly decided it wouldn’t.

“Did you have a good birthday?” she asked.

“It was okay. I would have liked it better if you were there.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. This girl came over to me and sat on my lap, you know,” I murmured, suddenly enthralled with the graceful line of her neck.

Addison’s mouth flattened into a thin line, but then she smiled. “Ah, so it sounds like a very good birthday then.”

“No, I made her get off.” I shook my head. “The only person I want on my lap is you.”

Her eyes widened and her pink cheeks went crimson. “Oh boy, yep. Definitely time for bed.”

“Listen, don’t placate me because I’m drunk. It doesn’t mean I’m not telling the truth.” I took her hand again, this time pulling her close enough that her body was flush against mine.

She fidgeted, almost like she was debating whether she should move away, but I wrapped my arm around her waist and rested my hand on her lower back.

“I only want one birthday gift this year,” I said. “And it’s you.”

I cupped her chin with my free hand and she stared into my eyes, her expression torn, like she was at war with herself.

Time to see if I could help make up her mind.

I swooped down, crushing my lips to hers, and that sweet electricity sparked between us again, igniting something in me I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before. I pulled her body closer still, wanting her to feel the thick outline of my erection. She moaned a low, needy sound as her hips arched against mine.

I groaned in reply, rubbing against her so that my cock rode her slit in just the right spot. God, did I need to get inside her. Slide deep into that wet, hot warmth that I could feel branding me through the fabric of my jeans.

I lifted a hand to cover one of her breasts, my pulse cranking up as her nipple pebbled beneath my fingers.

To my surprise, her fingers trailed down my stomach, burrowing between us to cup my cock, running up and down over the fabric.

Fuck if I didn’t want her to unzip me right then and there and slip her hand down the front of my boxers. I wanted her to tease me, stroke my swollen shaft up and down, and then get on her knees and do all the things I’d imagined her doing three times a day since she’d moved in here with me.