Fuck It (Yama Yama)

I’m the one to kiss him this time, pulling him down where our lips can touch, and I moan into his mouth. I almost pitch forward when he moves away abruptly again, and I open my eyes to see him backing toward the door.

“Plan on riding home with me tonight,” he says with that damn cocky smirk of his.

Totally sure that’s presumptuous and arrogant, but that’s half his charm, so I don’t bother trying to act like it bothers me anymore.

“Fine. But you’re feeding me first. And there’s something else we need to talk about.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“I’m hungry after work—”

“Not that,” he interrupts, his smile returning. “I’ll feed you. I meant what’s there to talk about?”

“Lydia.”

His smile falls. “What about her?”

I take a long, steadying breath. “She’s my new roommate.”

His head falls back, and he stares at the ceiling. “Fuck my life,” I hear him mutter.

“I need to know if you still have feelings for her, and—”

“No,” he says immediately, bringing his head back down so that his eyes meet mine. “No feelings for her. She and I were never right for each other. But if she’s your roommate—”

“Then it’s my problem to deal with. You worry about Roman. I’ll worry about her.” I’m already taking inventory of the complicated layers we have, and we haven’t even done anything yet!

He moves like he’s about to leave, hand on the doorknob, but he turns and faces me again, pointing a finger in my general direction. “For the fucking record, my dick is not tiny.”

My lips curl in an involuntary grin. “Well aware.”

He grunts like a caveman. I half expect him to pound his chest. But he walks out, and I run my hand over my lips as I smile.

About an hour later, his head pokes back in, and he frowns as he looks at me. “I’ll have to feed you another night,” he says like it’s not his favorite sentence.

“Business?”

He nods. “Yeah. Last minute deal, and I have to fly out to Virginia. I’ll be back in a day or two. Three at most. I’ll feed you then.”

He smirks like there’s something to smirk about, but I’m not sure what exactly he’s referring to. “Okay,” I say with a shrug, feeling both disappointed and relieved.

What if he expects sex? I have no idea how to have normal sex. It’s one thing I never researched because I was sure I had the general idea. Penis goes into the vagina—that much I understand. It’s all the other stuff I have no idea about.

“By the way, I just wanted to mention that it’s all guys on this trip,” he goes on.

Frowning, I nod. “O…kay. What does that have to do with anything?”

He adjusts his tie like he’s nervous. “I didn’t want you worried about anything, since you and I discussed seeing each other outside the office.”

I’m still confused…

“Right. Well, I’m still not sure what that has to do with anything, but have fun in the boys’ club.”

I look down, but he doesn’t leave, even though I desperately need him to. I still need to learn about normal sex, damn it.

“Something else?” I ask, swinging my gaze back up to find him studying me like he’s waiting on me to say more.

“It’s just…I know my reputation is shitty. Hell, it’s always going to be in the back of your mind. I don’t want you worrying about things if you call and I can’t answer or something.”

“Anderson, you and I are not a couple. We haven’t even been on a date. If you fuck someone, it’s not considered cheating.”

Even as I say the words, they sour on my tongue, curiously enough. Just how freaking much do I like this guy? When did this happen?

His frown returns. “Okay then. Are you going to be having sex while I’m gone?”

Ha! If he only knew how freaking unlikely that shit is. “Doubtful. I have a lot of work to do,” I say instead of blurting out the horrifying truth.

He looks like he wants to say more, but finally mutters a curse and stalks out. As he shuts the door, I drop the mask of indifference I was wearing to save face, and groan at my laptop, wondering if it has all the answers.

It’s complicated, but fuck it. It’s not like simple has ever worked out for me.

CHAPTER 8

LYDIA

There’s still a slight ache in my muscles, but I’m not as sore today. Yesterday when I woke, it felt like I’d been pummeled by a kangaroo in my sleep. The ache between my legs reminded me it was a different, more enjoyable kind of pummeling. I spent the entire day lying around and recovering from Simon’s attempt to fuck me to death. The last thing I wanted was to return to work this week looking like I was horseback riding all weekend.