The Roommate Equation

He’s focused, his usual control-freak self. Even in the bedroom, Dylan has to remain in control. And when it comes to his skilled hands and tongue, I always said yes. No, more like I said, Hell, yes. Have your way with me.

His lips crash into mine with so much passion that I almost lose my balance. But Dylan is there to catch me and pins me against his chest. He takes my lip and sucks on it, tugging at it with his teeth, and I love the way he makes me crave this closeness.

When Dylan sweeps his tongue into my mouth, I melt into him, and our bodies fuse as one. We stay this way, running our hands over each other’s bodies, feeling everything at once. I allow myself to let go, lost to the rhythm of the beat and the song in my heart.

When the house lights turn on, the crowd yells and eventually dies down along with the vibe in the club. Dylan holds me at arm's length, his hand on my shoulder as he studies my face.

“We have to find Sloan,” I suggest.

Without another word, Dylan leads me through the crowd by the hand. We head toward the front of the club, and his touch sends shockwaves throughout my body. Dylan removes his cell phone from his pocket and raises it to his ear. He calls Sloan a few more times, all of which go to voicemail. And here, I thought my brother would be hunting us down by now. I guess luck is on our side tonight.

After searching the club for ten minutes, we find my brother in the corner by the bathrooms with a different woman.

“Stay here,” Dylan says. “Don’t move.”

“Should I sit, roll over, and beg, too?”

He snorts with laughter. “If I lose you, Sloan will kill me.”

After Sloan and Dylan exchange a few words, Dylan approaches me again with a mischievous grin on his handsome face.

“Sloan’s riding with that girl,” he says.

“Is he coming home tonight?”

“Yeah. They’ll be right behind us.”

“I was hoping we would have the house to ourselves.”

“Sloan will be too busy to notice what we’re doing.”

I smile so wide my face hurts. “We can’t… not with Sloan in the house.”

He smirks. “We’ve done a lot worse.”

Chapter Eighteen

Ash

Dylan parks in front of his house and kills the engine. We haven’t spoken more than a few words since we left the club. Our trip from Hollywood to Malibu was perfect. We drove with the convertible top rolled down and the wind blowing through our hair.

Dylan helps me out of the car. He leads me into the dark house, dragging me down the hallway like a man on a mission.

“What about my brother?”

“Sloan could come home in two days or two hours from now.”

I can’t argue with his logic. When my brother gets here, he will most likely go upstairs with the girl from the club.

Once we’re inside his bedroom, Dylan pushes my back against the wall. He lifts me in his strong arms, and I wrap my legs around his back, sliding my hands up his muscular chest. Our lips collide with an intensity that stuns me, making me crave him like a drug I need to feel alive.

Dylan kisses me, our tongues working in harmony. He invades my mouth with a vicious hunger, and five years of pent-up sexual desire explodes through my body all at once. He shows me with his body that he wanted this. That he needs this as much as I do, claiming me with each flick of his skilled tongue.

Once our lips separate, my chest rises and falls with each shallow breath I take. I struggle to gather my thoughts, too consumed by the waves of pleasure that sweep over my body.

Dylan cups the side of my face and rolls the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. “Ash,” he whispers as his eyes meet mine. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this.”

No, I need this.

“One night will never be enough,” he confesses.

“It will have to be,” I say without hesitation.

Dylan slides my panties to the side and runs his finger along my slick folds. He tests my wetness, moving his finger in and out of me so painfully slow that I moan his name, begging him to give me more.

“You’re so wet for me,” he groans, adding another finger. “Still so fucking tight.” His fingers slam into me, his pace quickening with each thrust. “I wish I could control myself. But not now. Not after this.”

“Then, don’t hold back.”

I whisper the words against his lips, and he kisses me so hard and fast my head spins.

“Don’t torture me, baby. I want to fuck you on every surface of this house, my cock filling you up, making you scream my name with each orgasm I give you.”