Roughing

Even over the water, he can hear me crying. When he told me he loved me, as I walked away from him all those years ago, he meant it. I thought he was full of shit. He squeezes my hands tighter against his stomach before he turns around to face me.

Wiping my cheek with his finger, he says, “Don’t be upset. I’m here now. That’s all that matters. Let’s spend our time in the present, not in the past. Okay?”

“Bash,” I mutter under my breath.

“Tori,” he whispers.

“Kiss me.” I place my hand on his chest, and he dips down to kiss my lips, lifting me up in the process.

He rakes his fingers through my hair, shoving the wet strands off my face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Tori.”

Hooking my legs around his middle, I dig my heels into his back. Once our tongues collide, I’m so consumed by Bash that I could kiss him all day without coming up for air. As our lips separate, I have trouble breathing. Every assumption I’d had about Bash has gone out the window. I feel bonded to him, the same way I had when we were dating.

Would he say and do these things just for sex?

Most girls on campus throw themselves at Bash. One foot out the door, and they are begging him to use them up and spit them out. That has always been his M.O. Seeing a different side to Bash gives me a new appreciation for him.

It also makes me wish I had heard him out when he tried to explain the girl I found in his bed all those years ago. Everyone misjudges him because of his looks, money, and star power. Even me. He said there was more to the story. Maybe I should hear him out.

After he finishes exploring my body with his mouth, he moves back up to my face. He holds me against the tile, pressing his lips to mine with so much passion behind each kiss, and this doesn’t feel like just sex. It’s so much more. My new feelings for Bash are so foreign yet welcome.

How have I let him get this far? What are we even doing? He’s supposed to help me nurse a concussion, not give me an orgasm.

I stare into his eyes, and my mouth opens wide, as he reaches between my legs. He peels back my panties, rolling the pad of his thumb over my clit before he slips his finger inside my wetness. Bash leaves a trail of kisses down my skin, from my neck to my breasts, before taking my nipple in his mouth. He plunges his fingers deeper, and I tremble beneath him, my breathing labored and sounding like a purr as I moan his name.

As always, my body responds to Bash, as if made for him. Moving faster, Bash knows how I like it. He knows what to do to make me come. One thing we never had a problem with is our sexual chemistry.

I dig my nails into his shoulders and scream his name once more, my body writhing beneath him.

“Come for me,” he says, and I do. I come so fucking hard on his fingers, clamping down on them as my orgasm rocks through my body.

Bash removes his fingers to suck on them before smearing what’s left of my juices across my lips. I stick my tongue out to taste, not breaking eye contact, and he takes my face in his hands. His kisses are so passionate, causing my toes to curl in anticipation of more. I never want this moment to end.

After our lips part, I lean my head against the wall and whisper, “Bash.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, still holding me up against the wall.

I lock eyes with him. “I think I want you to fuck me.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “You think? Either you do, or you don’t, babe.”

The corner of my mouth turns up into a wicked grin. “I do. But that might just be the concussion talking.”

“Shit,” he says, looking away. “I wasn’t even thinking. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not taking advantage.”

“You are taking care of me,” I say with a smile on my lips. “My pussy was throbbing, and you made it all better.”

He shakes his head, laughing. “You have no idea how much I missed you. No fucking clue.”

Twisting my fingers through his dark hair, I say against his lips. “How about you show me?”

And just like that, we let our mouths and bodies do the talking. Everything about this feels so right.

Chapter 8

Bash

After we finish making out in the shower, Tori strolls into her bedroom and drops her towel, peeking up at me beneath her brows. She’s so fucking beautiful my dick gets hard with one look. I couldn’t have sex with her, even though she begged me. This weekend is about nursing her back to health—not getting her off. While I’m glad I was able to do that for her, I cannot take advantage of this situation, no matter how many times she tries to convince me that it’s okay and that she wants this.