Chills hit me, and I remain silent while turning on my side, my eyes traveling over her naked body. I imagined her being in my bed so many times, jacked off on these very sheets as my imagination grew wild, but never did those include conversations about her marriage.
I should’ve stopped her from marrying him. We should’ve ended the game we played for years. I would’ve never seen her in my bar with an engagement ring wrapped around her finger, and she’d never have watched me fuck another woman. We suffered and risked our happiness out of fear. If we had skipped the games, we would’ve been here years ago.
I have her now.
And I’m not letting anything or anyone stand in our way.
“Instead of thinking about Devin that night, you consumed me. I went to the bar to tell you I wanted us to turn into an us and had for years.” She shifts on her side, mirroring my position, and rests her cheek in her hand on her pillow.
She’s beautiful. Her cheeks flush as she stares at me with sleepy eyes. Her tangled hair is feathered against the pillow. I love how they’re all evidence of what we did. I massage her slender shoulder, and she shivers when I skim my hand down her waist, hauling her closer.
Her warm, naked body against mine is heaven.
She hesitates, questioning if it’s wise to venture into this conversation after I was just inside her. I don’t want my mistake to ruin this moment with her.
Sex with Sierra is the best I’ve ever had.
Hell, we went vanilla and fucked in a bed, but no one compares to her.
“When I saw you with her, it killed me.” Her voice and body tighten. “I didn’t know what to think, what to do, but like I took thinking about you the night before my wedding as a sign, I believed seeing you with her was one too—proof we weren’t meant to be. It was a warning you were a man who couldn’t keep it in his pants or give me the type of relationship I needed. I was heartbroken, angry, and embarrassed for assuming I could walk into the bar and change everything between us.”
“But even after all that, you married him.”
She shuts her eyes. “I did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I trace a finger over the soft skin of her thigh. “Come to me?”
“I couldn’t face you after that. All I’d see was you screwing her on that desk.”
“And all those years, I couldn’t rid the sight of him kissing you and touching you in my bar. You’d be with me and then go to bed with him.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was stupid.”
“I ditched town the week of your wedding to clear my head but returned that night. Not going to lie, in the back of my mind, I was hoping you’d come to me. Then, Devin showed up as a pregame to his bachelor party. I knew he was there to rub it in my face, that you’d chosen him, and it killed me. Penny showed up, and … well, you know the rest.”
“I was selfish—from the moment I sent you the invite to the wedding, thinking you’d come.”
“That invite was a waste of paper. I burned it in the pizza oven.”
She laughs.
“Did you think about me when you fucked him the night of your wedding?” I take her chin in my free hand, stopping her from looking away.
“I did,” she whispers.
I snake my hand down her waist, pulling her leg up over my thigh, and peer at her. “I thought about you when I was with her, too.”
She rises, her hand going to my chest to push me down, and straddles me. I groan, throwing my head back, as she grinds down, her bare pussy against my hard cock.
I cup her breast. “Ride me how you wanted that night. Fuck me how we would’ve. Give me what we should’ve had.”
She bites into her lip, grabs a condom from my nightstand at my direction, and then fucks me hard.
“Don’t stop,” I mutter.
“Don’t make me.”
“I love looking at you like this,” I say, smacking her ass. “All mine.”
Eighteen
Sierra
I’ve hardly slept.
Every time my eyes attempt to shut, I force them back open, scared of falling asleep and waking up to discover this was all a dream.
Our legs are tangled, and Maliki’s bulge presses against my ass as he stirs in his sleep.
His arms tighten around my waist.
“Good morning,” he grumbles into my neck, running his hand up and down my leg.
“Morning,” I squeak out.
He rests his hand on my waist and falls to his back, taking me with him, and situates me so I’m straddling him. He reaches out to clip a strand of my bedhead hair behind my ear, his gaze concentrating on me.
I settle my hand on his bare chest and release a deep, weighted sigh.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
It’s always better to rip the Band-Aid fast.
Here goes.
“Do you regret what happened last night?”
He squeezes my waist. “Why in the living fuck would you think that?” He reaches up, sliding his hands over the curve of my jaw, and cups my chin when I attempt to break eye contact.
“From the beginning, you’ve made it clear you A.) aren’t interested in a relationship like that with me and B.) aren’t interested in a relationship, period.”
“I didn’t want to corrupt you.”
“Corrupt me?”
He nods. “We come from different sides of the tracks. At first, not going to lie, in my eyes, you were a young teen getting her rocks off on being rebellious against mommy and daddy.”
“Wow,” I draw out, my brows scrunching. “I’m thrilled you thought so highly of me.”
“Hey, that was my first impression.”
I squirm, the panties I slipped on after our last round rubbing against his bare cock. I’m not as comfortable naked as he is. “What do you think about me now?”
He tips his head back when I shift back and forth and groans. “Even when I met you and thought you were rebellious, I thought you were sexy and funny. I still think those things along with how amazing you are, and I’m so glad you walked into my bar that night.”
I grin. “Corrupt me.”
He leans back to snag a condom from the nightstand, and my breathing heightens as he puts it on. He wastes no time sliding my panties to the side, slipping his cock inside me, and I have the best morning sex of my life.
I grimace when I read the text.
Devin: We need to talk. You’re still my wife.
I was so occupied with my parents’ issues, my new jobs, and Maliki that I neglected the husband situation.
That’s right. I forgot I was married.
Or maybe I’ve put it in the back of my mind, so I don’t have to tackle the whole divorce thing.
“What’s up?” Maliki asks.
“Devin texted me.”
He frowns. “And?”
I cover my face with my hands. “This is humiliating.”
“Why?”
“Uh … I’m married.”
He scratches his cheek. “You’re divorcing him, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He takes a bite of a carrot and points to my phone. “Text him back and tell him that.”
I ignore the text and shut off my phone.
Tonight is my first shift of working with Maliki since we had sex.
I’m like a lovesick teen.
Our eyes briefly catch when I peek over at him and grin.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?”
I shift my attention back to Ellie, who’s perched on a stool, nursing a glass of wine. We haven’t hung out since dinner the day I left Devin.
I make a poor attempt of hiding my grin with my hand.
She laughs, reaching across the bar and slapping my arm. “You hooker! You screwed him and didn’t tell me, your best friend. What the hell?”
I blow out a long breath, still unable to rid myself of my smile. “I can’t call you in front of him. That convo needs to be saved for when we’re alone.”
/> “Uh, you can trek your little ass to the bathroom and call me … or at least shoot your girl a text. It’s rude and against friendship rules for me to find out at the same time as all these wasted people here.”
I jerk my head back. “Wait, what?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s obvious. You’re eye-fucking him, and he does the same between every drink he makes.”
I perk up, my heart leaping. “Really?”
She whistles. “Girl, you’ve got it bad. He has it bad. I demand every single detail, please and thank you.”
“I’m off tomorrow. Margaritas?”
“Can’t. I’m babysitting.”
I raise a brow. “Someone trusts you with their kid?”
“It’s my niece, so if I lose her or something, I won’t go to jail.” She shrugs. “My sister is moving home, and I was given the option to babysit or help move. Considering physical labor isn’t my jam, I chose babysit.” Her eyes brighten. “Oh, instead of drinks, you can have the pleasure of helping me. You’ve volunteered with kiddos. You know how to change diapers and all that stuff.”
I shake my head, fighting a grin. “I’m not changing diapers.”
“Kidding. The little heathen is, like, six. Consider it practice for when you and Maliki make little ones.”
I hold my palm up. “Seriously, don’t go there.”
“Oh, I’m going there.” She grins and then downs her wine.
“Ellie said it’s obvious we had sex,” I tell Maliki. “That everyone at the bar knows.”
We’re closing as usual, but tonight, it’s different. We exchange flirtatious glances and brush against each other as we cross paths.
He chuckles, his lips stretching into a broad smile. “Then, maybe you shouldn’t eye-fuck me all night, huh?” He steps closer and pokes the tip of my nose. “That makes it obvious.”
“Oh, puh-lease. You eye-fucked me all night. And not only tonight but every night.”
“I won’t dispute that.” He spans his arm around my waist. “You know what’s nice?”
I shiver when his hand wanders to my ass. “What?”
“Now, I can do more than eye-fuck you.”
I grin. “Oh, yes, that’s definitely nice.” I encircle my arms around his neck to tug him my way.
He bows his head, brushing a gentle kiss over my lips. “I have an idea.”
“Hmm?”
“You. Me. The apartment. We’ll save the closing for later.” He swoops his tongue into my mouth to suck on mine.
“Why wait?” I peek down and notice the erection through his jeans.
His hands leave me when I hop onto the bar—the same place he pinned and kissed me the night Penny ruined our moment.
He raises a brow but doesn’t speak.
I pat the bar and signal for him to come closer with my finger. “I want you to screw me here.”
“Sierra.” My name leaves his lips in warning, and he exhales audibly.
“Maliki.” I imitate his tone. “Finish what you started before she showed up. Let me mark my territory. Now, when you look at this spot, you’ll be reminded of me—where you laid me onto my back and fucked me until I couldn’t breathe.”
“Shit,” he hisses through clenched teeth and advances a step, stopping in front of me and standing tall. He snags my waist and tugs me to the edge of the bar, my core rubbing against his hardness. He releases my waist, his hand drifting up my side and shoulder, and he moves my hair to the side, his lips brushing against my ear. “How do you want it, baby?”
I rub my thighs together, feeling my wet panties, and desire screams through me.
“Fuck me hard, right here, right now. Own me, Maliki.” The words exit my mouth in harsh gasps.
He wraps my hair in his fist, tugging it back. “Jailbait, I’ve owned you since you were eighteen.”
I lick my top lip and lean forward until my mouth is almost resting against his. “Prove it.”
His lips claim mine, heavy and heated, and he widens my legs, giving him enough space to stand between them. He tightens his hold on my hair, yanking my head back, and his lips roam my neck.
My pulse beats hard in every spot he kisses and licks. I struggle to breathe when he grabs my ankles and pulls me toward him, my ass hanging off the bar.
“I hate when you wear these short shorts,” he says. “It drives my imagination wild, thinking about licking and sucking your tight pussy.” He rakes a finger across my core over my jeans. “Is that why you wear them? To torture me?”
I lower my head to stare at him, his eyes mischievous as they harden on me. “Maybe.”
His mouth replaces his hand, resting his lips on my jeans and blowing on them. I open my mouth to beg him for more, but his hands are faster than my words.
In seconds, he has my shorts unbuckled and shoves them along with my panties down my legs. I help him drag them off my feet, and he falls to his knees, resting my thighs on his shoulders. I squirm when his hand squeezes my ass, holding me still, and his tongue dives deep inside me.
My nails dig into the bar and move to his hair, pulling at the strands while he plunges his tongue deep inside me, playing with my clit, and then his fingers meet his tongue.
The roughness of the bar is hard against my back. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I don’t care.
I dig my heels into his back and beg for more.
Then, I gasp because I can’t take it anymore.
My skin tingles against the wood when I arch my back, and my body trembles as I release onto his tongue.
He lifts, wiping his hand across his mouth, and I shake my head.
“I can’t handle it anymore.” Deep breaths leave my stomach. “You can’t … there’s no way I can … Jesus, that was incredible.”
His hands rest on my knees, and he carefully settles my legs back down. “You can.”
He snatches a condom from his wallet before dropping his pants, his dick hard and long as it comes into my view, and it twitches as he places it at my opening.
“You want me to own you with this cock here?” he asks, raising a brow.
I gyrate my hips, pleading with him, and grab his ass to come closer. I wrap my fingers around his cock, raise my hips, and position him at my opening.
He’s moving too damn slow.
He waits, allowing me to take control, and throws his head back when I push in the tip. His eyes fixate on my hand as I play with myself with his cock, moving in just an inch, and his breathing is harsh and ragged, but he doesn’t thrust himself in. He lets me play my game as he grows harder and harder underneath my fingers.
I release his cock, my hands running up his chest, and cup his shoulders.
Then, he grabs my ass, holding me up, and pushes inside me.
It’s the best damn feeling everywhere.
Maybe because we’re doing it here—a forbidden place.
Maybe because I know he’s had other women here, and I want to erase them.
Maybe because I’ve sat at this bar, night after night, fantasizing about this that I never want him to stop as he plunges in and out of me.
Sweat builds along his forehead, his gaze pinned on our connection.
“God, you feel so good,” I moan.
His attention flicks up to meet my eyes. “You’re perfect, Sierra. So tight and so perfect.”
It doesn’t take long until his thrusts turn harder and faster, my hips moving at the same speed as we slam into each other. My eyes shut, my head dropping back, and I yell out his name while collapsing against the bar.
He continues his thrusting, groaning, until he releases inside me.
Our breathing echoes through the bar.
It takes a moment to gain control of myself. “That was amazing.”
He gives me a quick peck. “You’re amazing.”
Nineteen
Maliki
“I’m back,” Liz sings, walking into my office. “How big of a mess are you in with troublemaking Barbie?”
“Don’t cal
l her that.” I narrow my eyes at her from my desk.
Two weeks have passed since Sierra and I had sex.
It’s been a fucking amazing two weeks.
Liz shuts the door. “Your answer tells me she hasn’t broken your heart yet.”
I recline in my chair, crossing my legs, and play with the pen in my hand. “How’s Dad?”
“He’s Dad. He and the wifey reconciled, and she’s surprisingly not terrible.”
“What happened to divorcing her?”
“It was his fault for their issues. He was scared she’d leave him like Mom did and pulled away. They talked and seem okay now.”
“Good.” I fidget with the pen between my fingers. “I have something to tell you.”
“What’s up?”
I massage the back of my neck. “I’m renovating the bar.”
“Oh, cool.” She smiles. “I’d love to help.”
“Actually—”
Sierra walks in mid-sentence, her hands filled with a notebook and paint samples. Liz’s smile wipes off her face, turning into a glare.
Without bothering to glance up, Sierra starts talking, “So, I’ve gone back and forth with the taupe color you picked—and by picked, I mean, pointed and said, ‘That one,’ without bothering to look at other options. I don’t see it working with the floor we ordered. I know you like it, but blugh. I promise to find something better. You’ll love it.”
All the color drains from Liz’s face while Sierra continues her rambling.
“I also have furniture options, and stop me if I’m going too far, but maybe we can tear down a wall?”
Liz’s gaze pings from her to me. “Tear down a wall?” she shrieks.
The notebook drops from Sierra’s hand, paint samples fluttering on the floor, and her eyes shoot straight to me in panic.
“When you said renovating, I took that as a fresh paint job,” Liz spits out.
“We are doing new paint,” Sierra remarks.
Liz shoots her a hard look. “I meant, not changing everything.”
“Technically, we’re not changing everything,” Sierra answers. “We’re preserving the bones of the bar, just altering a few things, making them better.”
Just Roommates Page 15
