Adrian (Filthy Rich Alphas) - Page 3

I held my palms out. “What is there to discuss? This doesn’t happen again. There’s no need to sit down and bring up the specifics.” I shook my head. “You see this huge space, Adrian? This is the non-jacking off area of your beautiful home. When in this private place, which we can call my bedroom, you are not to take your penis out and do things with it.”

“Clearly, you don’t like me doing this.”

“Clearly, I don’t like you jacking off in my room. Yes. That would be correct.” I pointed to his back pocket. “And those are my favorite shorts. Please give them back.”

“I don’t know if I can give them back.” He made no move. “Because we have something in common.”

“Excuse me?”

He offered me a weak smile. “These are my favorite shorts too. I’m keeping them.”

“Get out!” I stormed to my dresser, maintaining several feet between us.

“Can we talk first?”

“No. And this is my bedroom. You can’t just come in and out just because you live on this property too. You’re invading my privacy. In fact, this is your father’s and my room.”

“Dad barely sleeps here.”

“That's none of your business.”

Blowing out a long breath, he ran his fingers through that thick wavy hair that I did my best to ignore. It had a lushness to it, and sometimes my fingers craved to touch those strands. But not in an intimate way or, at least, that was what I told myself.

“Why are you still here?” I asked.

“Because... ” He adjusted his suit jacket and tightened his tie. This entire incident would've been easier to deal with if he hadn't been so damn gorgeous and known it. He was also too damn cocky to understand how disrespectful he'd been.

“I feel like we should talk about this,” he said.

I snorted. “I feel like you should talk to a therapist.”

“Fine.” He displayed a wicked smile. “I already have a therapist that I talk to.”

“Good.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “So then you should rush off and talk to your therapist today. Surely, you have some things to confess.”

“She knows I masturbate in your room. We're working on it.”

I tensed. “This is not the first time you've jacked off in my room?”

With a straight face, he admitted, “No. There've been a few times I've waited for you to leave and I came into your room, lay right here,” he pointed to my side of the bed, “and enjoyed myself.”

A shiver of fear ran up my spine and then warmed into irrational lust. I wasn’t used to this sensation of a war igniting within my body. Lust and disgust. Feelings of anger as his action stroked my ego because, in the end, he wanted me. Real bad. And no matter how I tried to push that thought out of my head, his ignorant desire ignited heat inside of my body where it had only been untouched and cold since moving in with Nick.

My fiancé will barely look at me these days, but here is his son, jacking off to me like a pervert. What the hell is going on with my life?

This entire situation was wrong and unethical. I’d heard rumors about Nick and Adrian, raunchy stories about how they shared women. I never thought Adrian was really that type of guy.

My relationship with Nick’s son had been a growing friendship. We’d recited Edgar Allan Poe, line by line, late into the evening one time. Just us sitting by the fire, sipping whiskey, and yelling out all of the dark poetry we’d remembered from our younger, dorkier days.

Oh God. Did I lead him on? Being his friend wasn’t a good idea. I need to give us space.

I looked at Adrian. “You need to leave.”

“Sometimes when you go out for a run, I sit on your bed and smell the sheets.” Adrian licked his lips. “I breathe you in, and then I can’t help but take my dick out and stroke it.”

“Y-you definitely need to see someone.”

“I’m seeing someone.”

“A therapist?”

“I told you I was.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

Silence settled around us.

I leaned my weight onto one foot. “Are you going to be leaving or am I to wait for you to finish jacking off in my bedroom?”

He looked away. “I think we should talk.”

“We don’t need to.”

“I think we do.”

“Maybe you think we need to talk because you’re crazy.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to never—”

“Do your best? Never come in my room again! This is…I don't even know what to say. Don't do this again. You're invading my privacy—”

“With my dick.” He shoved me off the path I’d been verbally walking on.

“What? No. Not with your dick.”

“So I'm not invading your room with my dick?”

“Fuck you, Adrian.”

“I already told you about that word.” He took a step forward.

Okay. Stern stepmom is not working. Now I need to pull up my big girl panties and whip his ass.

Tags: Kenya Wright Billionaire Romance
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