The Play Mate (Roommates #2)

“I hadn’t even meant to come in here. I was going to the men’s room to wash my hands, but I smelled that scent and had to follow it. Then, there you were. That sexy silhouette. That ass. Those legs. You’re like a fucking magnet.”


I managed a grin as I ground against him. “And you’re like steel.”

He let out a growl and dived at my mouth, slanting his lips over mine. Ten minutes, he’d said. I couldn’t help but wonder if both of us couldn’t come in three. I knew I could. I was already on the edge.

My entire body tingled as he swept his tongue over mine, fucking me through my clothes with hard, rolling thrusts. I curled my arms around his waist and cupped his ass, plastering him tighter against me. His kisses grew rougher, all finesse gone now, and I loved it. This Smith—wild Smith . . . risk-taker Smith—was the Smith I’d always admired. And I couldn’t deny he was bringing out that side of me too. A side that I’d let go untapped for far too long.

I bounced my hips against him, wishing we were skin to skin, arching helplessly now as my body attempted to relieve the ache. It was only getting worse, spreading lower, stretching like taffy in the sun. I had no idea what had caused this change in him since at dinner he’d seemed intent on playing the perfect gentleman, but I liked this reckless side to him.

I pulled my head back but didn’t stop arching against him. “What if we lock the door?” I whispered, now desperate for it. That satisfaction only Smith could give me.

He groaned and pressed his forehead against mine. “Jesus, Evie, I want to. You have no idea how much I want to. But if the two of us are in here with the door locked, that’s a dead giveaway. Especially if you walk out looking like this.”

His cock was hitting me in exactly the right spot, and I had to choke back a whimper. “Look like what? I look the same as I always do.”

His laugh sounded pained. “No. Your lips are pink and swollen. Your nipples are hard and your eyes are drunk with desire. In a word? You look like you’ve been fucking.”

If only.

But suddenly, a noise echoed down the hallway.

“So then we’ll call him back right before end of business,” Cullen said, presumably to Marjorie.

“Break time is over.” Smith stepped back with a sad half smile on his lips as he straightened my blouse. “I’m going to have to borrow your file folder, though.”

My pulse pounded hard as I nodded, still in a daze. “Sure.”

I didn’t know what he meant to do with it until he held it in front of his cock like a shield. Laughter threatened to bubble from me, and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

He held a finger up to his lips. “Shh.” He dropped one last kiss to the tip of my nose and backed toward the door. “I’ll drop this off to you later,” he said, gesturing to the file folder. Then he disappeared out the door.

I could hear him talking with Cullen down the hall, so I waited for a full five minutes before leaving the little copy room. Not just because I didn’t want to run into Cullen, but because that was how long it took to get my legs back under me and steady.

Smith Hamilton was packing some seriously powerful stuff. So powerful, in fact, that I had to wonder how any woman resisted him.

The feel of his hands tangled in my hair, the swell of his cock between my legs. In those few stolen moments, so much had changed.

He wanted me. Maybe just as badly as I wanted him.

And now that I knew that? All bets were off. I was willing to fight for my man.





Chapter Fifteen




Damn . . . that kiss, though.

My brain instantly supplied a mental replay, and I shifted my dick in my pants to make sitting behind a desk bearable.

Jesus, sometimes I wondered if I had a screw loose or something, because I couldn’t make this whole thing any harder on myself if I tried. Not to mention that my thoughtless move could have jeopardized everything good in my life—my job, my relationship with Evie, my friendship with her brother.

What if Cullen had walked in?

All of his possible reactions flitted through my mind, and I winced. At the very least, some blood would have been shed, whether it was mine, his, or both.

But for some reason, I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried. Once I saw Evie there, bent over the copy machine, her bottom lip pinched between those white teeth, I was done. It was like I was on autopilot. My body moved toward hers as if controlled by some otherworldly gravitational pull.

I gritted my teeth and drummed my fingers on the desk in front of me in frustration.

This was torture. Spending time with someone I liked as much as I liked Evie, wanting her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life and not being able to have her, it made me feel like an addict. Twitchy, needy, and sort of desperate.

Not a feeling I was accustomed to at all. And not a feeling I liked one bit.

What if we gave in? Tonight, even. What if I texted her right now and asked her to meet me at my apartment after work and put an end to our shared misery?

Then what about tomorrow when we go back to being friends?

I swallowed a bitter laugh and raked a hand over my face.