“Guess it’s just you and me,” I say, walking toward her bed before lying back down, folding my hands behind my head.
“What are you doing?” Allie’s eyes cut toward the door, making sure we’re alone before closing it.
“I wasn’t ready to wake up. Get back in bed.”
“We are not making a habit of this,” she hisses. Her words say one thing, but the way her eyes trail down my stomach to the morning wood in my sweats says another thing entirely.
“We’ll see about that.”
She stands her ground, arms still crossed in defiance. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, then stalk toward her.
“Stay away,” she says, backing up as I advance on her. I pause mid-step, cocking my head to the side as I try to get a read on her. “You don’t play fair,” she explains. “My brain says one thing, but then you touch me and—” Allie stops abruptly, then clamps her mouth shut, as if she didn’t intend to reveal that fun little piece of information.
“And what?” I ask, taking another step in her direction.
“You’re a bad influence.”
I smirk, taking another step, effectively closing the distance between us.“I’ve been called worse.”
“This isn’t a good idea,” she almost whispers, her gaze trained on my chest, avoiding eye contact. Her hair, all wavy and wild from sleep, falls in front of her face. I pinch a strand between my thumb and fingers, feeling the soft strands against my callused fingers.
“The best things never are.”
Big gray eyes lift to mine, searching. “What do you want, Jesse?” she asks.
“You,” I say simply.
“Why?”
“Do I need a reason?”
She tries to move past me with a huff, but I block her path. “I don’t know, okay,” I admit through gritted teeth. “I just know that I do.”
“There are plenty of other willing victims. Go play with one of them instead.”
“I don’t want them.”
“Well, I don’t want you,” she snaps.
“That might have been more convincing if my cock wasn’t still covered in your cum.” Her cheeks bloom red with a mixture of what I’m sure is both anger and embarrassment. I turn around, heading for the bathroom, leaving her to seethe in peace. Not bothering to close the bathroom door, I turn the hot water on, then drop my sweats. I step under the hot water, images of last night flashing through my mind. My dick stirs at the thought, and I grip it with a tight fist, giving myself a single stroke. Before I get any farther, the shower curtain is wrenched open.
“Just because my body has a physiological reaction to you doesn’t mean I like you.”
“Obviously,” I deadpan. That sums up about ninety-nine percent of the “relationships” I’ve been in.
“And say we hooked up again,” she starts, her eyes dying to drift south. “It would stay between us?” I should feel victorious, but I can’t help but fixate on the last part of
her question. She wants me to be her dirty little secret. If I stopped to analyze it, I’m sure I’d be offended.
“Why, Allison, are you proposing a secret, sexual relationship with me?”
“Forget it.” She turns to leave, but my hand snaps out, catching her wrist. We lock eyes, tension building between us. I can practically feel her wall going back up, brick by brick. She pushes, I push back, neither one of us wanting to be the first to bend—the first to show something real.
“Say something,” she pleads, gaze fixed on my stomach, and not an inch lower. The water from the showerhead is starting to make a mess with the curtain being open, pooling under her bare feet.
“No one has to know,” I say the words she wants to hear through gritted teeth. My fingers are still clutching her wrist when her hand moves toward me, flattening against my chest. My muscles tighten under her touch as she tentatively slides her palm downward, exploring. Her eyes flick toward the door, but her hand continues its descent. The tips of her fingers graze my happy trail, and I can feel her warmth radiating from her palm on my cock right before she wraps her hand around me. My eyes close, head dropping back onto my shoulders.
“Sullivan,” she says, her voice breathy.