“I know,” I say to his chest, snuggling closer. I’m so wrapped up in the sturdy male feeling of him, something slips out without my permission. “I wish you could have been with me when…”
His hand pauses in the act of stroking my hair. “When what?”
I shake my head.
“You got scared when I made that crack about locking the door,” he rasps. “I want to know why.”
“Are you always this demanding?”
“Yes.” He tucks hair behind my ear, our lips moving closer in orbit. As if pulled by an unseen force. “I can be a mean son of a bitch, but not so mean that I wouldn’t apologize for scaring such a sweet girl. You forgive me?”
I bite my lip and nod, his gentleness making it impossible not to tell him the truth. “Right before I left for NYU, I was attacked in stairwell of my building. I’d just come home from the library and I had my nose in a book…or I would have noticed the man loitering outside the building next door. He caught the door before it could close and lock.”
Cold rage transforms John’s features. “Lyssa. Did he—”
“No. It was close, though. We struggled for what felt like forever and I couldn’t…I couldn’t get away.” I hold up my index finger. “Until I jammed this in his eye, kicked him in the balls and ran like hell.”
Affection radiates from John. And stark relief. “That’s my girl.”
His words bring reality back into sharp focus. That’s my girl.
As much as those three words rock me with joy, I’m supposed to be Mason’s girl. Yet here I am standing in John’s arms, his mouth dangerously close to mine.
You’re betraying your best friend.
With an iron will, I wiggle free of John and flee to the door, phone in hand. I rest my forehead against the doorjamb, the sound of our heavy breaths filling the room. “Did they catch the man who attacked you, Lyssa?”
I turn to find John staring into the distance with a menacing expression. “No. All I remember is he was medium sized and had a Tweety Bird neck tattoo. The police couldn’t find anyone that fit the description…and eventually they gave up.”
A piece of his black, gray-dusted hair falls free of its knot, shielding his eyes. But not before I see them blaze with purpose. “Go to bed. You’re safe.”
“Good night.”
I all but stumble from the room. Every part of my body that touched John is on fire. Yearning like I’ve never experienced pervades me. I want to return to the room and beg for kissing, for touching, for his naked body on top of mine. The thought of being pressed down would have terrified me this morning, but the safety he’d given me allows my brain to break free of the shackles it’s been locked in since the attack. I want to experience so much with John—but I can’t.
I won’t.
And that means I’ll be needing a cold shower before bed.
At the top of the stairs, I quickly deduce which room Mason is occupying as there’s a light emanating from beneath the doorframe and Shawn Mendes plays softly amid the sound of keyboard clacking. Better not disturb him, I guess.
It wouldn’t be a great idea for him to see me this flushed and horny, either, now would it?
Instead, I find an empty bedroom with an en suite bathroom and I duck inside, undressing quickly and stepping under the icy spray. I have no idea my life is about to be threatened. Again.
CHAPTER FOUR
John
When I get to my bedroom, I pace back and forth in front of my computer, knowing I should not do what I’m about to do. With my cock lodged in my jeans like a damn missile, however, I have no choice. I’m more primed to fuck than I’ve ever been in my life. Blood pounds in my temples and my hands fist, unfurl, fist again.
What I wouldn’t give to have Lyssa lying on my bed right now, blonde hair spread out on my comforter, tits spilling out of her pushup bra. I wouldn’t even bother taking her panties off, I’d just rip a hole in them and feed my dick home. Later. Later, I’d eat her pussy like nobody’s business. I’d make her cream on my tongue so many times, she’d lose count. But I’m a man possessed right now. The need to claim her with a hard fuck is burning me from the inside out.
I rake a hand down my face and release a pained laugh. How the hell is this happening? I’ve never wanted a female for my own—and the first and only time it happens, she’s posing as my son’s girlfriend. Worse, I can’t let them know I’m in on the ruse without possibly jeopardizing my relationship with Mason.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, taking off my shirt and hurling it toward the hamper.