Wrong Bed, Right Roommate (Accidental Love)

by Rebecca Brooks

  Her eyes widened. “Shh, someone might hear you!”

  “Are you afraid they might discover how sexy you are, Ms. Santana? I hate to break it to you, but your secret is out.”

  “What secret,” she teased, even though she knew she shouldn’t be goading him.

  “You pretend to be so neat and put together, but I know the real you. This is just a disguise.” His eyes went to her tucked-in blouse, her pencil skirt, her smart leather pumps, moving over her as sensually as if he were touching her with his hands. The effect was the same. She felt undressed, exposed before him.

  “You can’t talk like that here,” she said hoarsely, gasping at his audacity as he stepped closer, dropped his lips to her ears, and whispered, “The real you loves to spread your legs for me and fuck.”

  She shivered at the way he said that word, so deliciously dirty, like sex itself dripping off his tongue.

  “Tonight,” he went on. “When I get home from work. I want you wearing this for me. Glasses on. Your hair still in that bun.”

  “I didn’t know you had a workplace kink,” she murmured, glancing away to make sure no one was coming.

  “I have an unwrapping Jessie like a naughty little present just for me kink,” he said. “Promise me you’ll do it. Just like this.”

  “I—”

  A noise came from down the hall—a door opening. Jessie heard the severe click of heels on polished linoleum that could only be Marlene on her way to the elevators. Quickly, without thinking, she pushed Shawn back into the stairwell. She could only hope Marlene was going all the way downstairs for coffee, not to one of the other departments on the floor below, where she might take the stairs.

  She waited, her hand still on Shawn’s chest, feeling the leap of his heart as she tried to listen.

  “Shit,” she said, dropping her hand when she heard the elevator ding. “That was close.”

  “Don’t want anyone in your office to know you’re fucking your roommate?” he said, eyebrow raised.

  She clamped her hand to his mouth to shush him. “Maybe I don’t want anyone in my office to know I’m flirting with my sexy delivery boy instead of, I don’t know, doing my job like I’m supposed to. Like any sane person would be doing if they had this opportunity.”

  But Shawn only focused on one part of what she’d said. “Sexy delivery boy? I like it. If Thunder tanks, at least I know I’ve got a backup plan.”

  She whacked his shoulder. “My sexy delivery boy. You can’t go around making deliveries to other women.”

  “Then you’d better forget your laptop more often.”

  “Just wait,” she said. “I’ll make you my personal errand boy.”

  “I await your every command.”

  Why did it feel like every time they talked about anything, it all came back to sex? She flushed. “That wasn’t what I—”

  He dropped his bag and pulled her toward him. His back was leaning against the wall, and she was pressed tight to him, so close she could feel his hard-on through his pants, pushing against the fabric of her skirt.

  They were almost back to where they were this morning. He had more clothes on. But his cock was straining just as hard. And this time, it was even more impossible to ignore the need that ached between her legs. How was she ever supposed to get any work done today?

  “Whatever you need, Ms. Santana,” he said, cupping her ass.

  “I don’t need anything,” she demurred, pressing her palms to the broad, hard plane of his chest.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I need to go back to work.”

  “You have other needs, too.”

  “I think you’re the one who’s needy,” she said, bringing her hand to the bulge in his pants.

  He groaned. “Then what are you going to do to take care of me?”

  He had his answer when she dropped to her knees.

  It was reckless. Crazy. If someone walked through the door of the fourteenth-floor stairwell and saw the newest hire sucking off some random guy—would she be fired? Put on some kind of probation? Surely Marlene would have a thing or two to say if she discovered why Jessie wasn’t at her desk right now, preparing for their meeting. She could just imagine texting her mom after that meeting.

  But she couldn’t stop herself. She just couldn’t make herself care.

  If she went back to her desk right now, she’d be useless for the rest of the day. Shawn was right. She needed this. They both did.

  Quickly, frenzied, he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. Kneeling on the cold, hard floor, Jessie put her hands on the wall on either side of his legs. She braced herself as she took him deep into her mouth. There was no warm up, no teasing. If this was going to happen, it had to happen now.

  Shawn groaned and dug his fingers into her hair. “That’s it, baby,” he urged her. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

  She moaned onto his cock, a quiet whimper, trying to keep herself in check. Someone on another floor could hear them and head toward the noise, wondering what the commotion was all about…

  She held his cock as deep as it would go, relaxing her throat the way Talia had once instructed, giving Jessie pointers for her nonexistent boyfriends, having no idea those tips would be eventually put to use on the one guy Talia would have never wanted Jessie to hook up with—and would never suspect that she would.

  Shawn gasped, groaning, his thighs clenching, his head rolling back against the wall. It was so dirty like this, fast and urgent, with a level of risk she never would have imagined she’d take. She loved how they had all their clothes on, just his hard cock out of his pants, desperate and unable to wait. She could feel her own slickness between her legs, that need Shawn had talked about. Yes, it was real. She had it. She had it for him.

  When she had to come up for air, she pulled off his dick, licking up the saliva so it didn’t get all over either of them. “Get up,” he whispered hoarsely, glancing up at the door on the landing above them.

  She stood unsteadily, her legs trembling. He grabbed her and slid his hand up her skirt, stroked over the damp spot on her panties. When he pushed her underwear aside and slid his finger inside her, he groaned.

  “I’ve never felt you this wet before,” he said.

  He pushed his finger into her deeper, so deep he was practically lifting her up, making her spread her legs and take it.

  She’d never known it could feel like this, so good with just a finger opening her. When anyone had ever done that to her before, it had hurt. She hadn’t been turned on enough. No one had really tried to turn her on, like it hadn’t fully occurred to either of them that her pleasure could and should have been the focus. And she’d been too shy to ask for anything when she didn’t even know what to ask for. Harder? Softer? Slower? Faster? “Not so stabby” was kind of hard to articulate, which was why she’d never tried.

  But Shawn touched her, and she opened. She ground her hips against him, her clit against his knuckles, every part of her desperate and so aching.

  “What do you need?” Shawn whispered in her ear as she writhed against him.

  She reached for his cock again. “I want to make you come.”

  He grabbed her hand and pinned it behind her. “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I need it,” she tried again, straining to reach for him.

  “Not what you need to do to me. What you need.”

  He plunged a second finger inside her. She wrapped her fists around his shirt and tugged, giving herself something to hold onto.

  “I need—” she finally managed to whimper.

  “You need what?” he asked, all cool and in control as he turned her into a quivering mess in his hands.

  “I need you to—” She choked back a cry that would have been loud enough to bring the entire building running when he pressed hard against the front of her, right where he knew she liked her vibrator to hit.

  “Say it, baby,” he commanded her. “I won’t do it until you do.”


  “I need you to fuck me,” she said breathlessly. “Fuck me, Shawn. Please.”

  He pulled his fingers out and spun her around so she was facing the wall. He lifted her skirt over her hips and yanked down her soaked panties. She leaned forward, bracing herself against the wall. She heard the quick rip of a condom and felt the slide of it slick and soft over the curve of her ass as he got into position. When he entered her, her vision went dark. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t hear, she couldn’t feel anything besides his cock inside her.

  She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. His hands were on her hips, her skirt twisted around her, and she could feel the scratch of his jeans against the backs of her thighs with every thrust.

  This so wasn’t her. It was as though someone else had taken over her body and mind for just this summer and replaced it with some spontaneous risk-taker who did things simply because they felt good. She might as well join a skydiving group, take up roller derby, call her parents and say she was quitting everything and moving to a yurt in Alaska to go salmon fishing. It wasn’t like this was any less out of character.

  And yet she couldn’t stop. It was like Shawn said. She needed it.

  She needed his hands on her, his breath in her ear, the steady panting as he drilled into her. She needed the hard slab of his muscled body pressing against her, and his thick cock splitting her open, making her feel things she’d never felt before.

  She needed him reaching around her, cupping her, sliding his finger over the sensitive, slippery bud of her clit with fast, firm circles until her knees threatened to give way.

  “Is this what you need?” he said, rubbing her clit as he fucked her.

  “I need to come,” she gasped, moving her hips in the rhythm he said. “I need you to make me come.”

  “Come on my cock,” he told her.

  “I need you,” she panted. “I need you. I need you.”

  She barely realized what she was saying until the words were out of her mouth. Not just I need to come or even, I need your cock, which was true, and filthy, and nothing she ever would imagine that she, Jessie Santana, could actually say.

  But that she needed him. All of him.

  “I need you, too,” he whispered in her ear. I need you.

  His cock, his fingers, his lips. His words. He worked her so hard there was no holding back, no delaying the orgasm as it tore through her. She was helpless in the face of it, tossed about by the wave that carried her away.

  “That’s it, baby,” he urged her. “Come on my cock. Let go and come all over me.”

  When she was finished, limp against the wall, he pulled out of her and spun her back around, kissing her hard.

  “Was that a good one?” he asked her.

  “I can’t stand up.”

  “Then get on your knees.”

  He pulled the condom off and this time she wasn’t even thinking about the stairwell, the office, where they were and what they were doing. All she cared about was one thing—making him come in her mouth.

  He was so hard, so close, all it took was a few soft strokes of her tongue and he was spilling himself inside her. She felt him fill her mouth and swallowed. She’d been wrong about those girls Shawn had gone out with, and the women who seemed like they were always having so much more fun than she was.

  It wasn’t meaningless, it wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t wrong. In some weird way, it felt like this, now, was the most intimate thing she’d ever done, blowing this man in a stairwell while her skirt was still hitched around her and her thighs were sore, her panties wet with her own longing. Because she’d taken that risk for him, pushed everything aside for him, and let herself think only of what her body needed.

  Maybe she was out of control when she was with him. It was like striking a match and expecting it not to flame, thinking she could be near him and not feel this spark.

  But maybe she was in control completely. And this was what she was choosing. Shawn’s lips on hers, his tongue searching her, tasting himself on her as he gently pulled her skirt down and twisted it back into place.

  “Now I really have to go,” she murmured, not wanting to pull away from his kiss.

  “I’m late for work,” he said, still kissing her, too.

  She looked up at him, startled. “I thought you didn’t have to go in until later.”

  “I was supposed to come in earlier to add the flavorings to a new ale,” he admitted. “It’s the first time Jean is having me do something like that.”

  She blinked at him, no clue what to think. It was totally irresponsible of him to have blown off his commitments in order to bring her the laptop, and then made himself even later with…everything they’d just done.

  But did she really wish he’d left her to flounder?

  Wasn’t it sort of…boyfriend-y that he hadn’t?

  She cleared her throat, smoothing down her skirt as if to cover the thought. “Thanks for bringing me my laptop,” she said, weirdly formal.

  He cupped her cheek and kissed her nose. “I’ll meet you here anytime.”

  He winked at her. She smiled a loopy, satisfied smile, all the formality gone.

  Yeah, definitely boyfriend-y. And, to be honest, she definitely didn’t mind.

  He turned and was gone, scrambling down all fourteen floors. But she could still feel his kiss, his touch. And the way his smile reverberated within her even after she couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore.

  It took her a second to remember that she had to get her shit together and get back to work. She had things to do besides fall into a goopy puddle on the floor. It was just hard, right now, to remember what any of those things were.

  She edged out of the stairwell, yanking up her bra strap as she checked to make sure the coast was clear. Keep it together, Santana.

  She was heading straight to the bathroom to fix herself up—she could guess that her hair was a mess—when she ran into none other than Marlene.

  “Jessica! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Marlene beckoned her to hurry. “This isn’t a good time for a break, I was expecting you in my office fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I—”

  “Do you have your recommendations for Augusta’s manuscript?”

  Jessie gestured to the laptop in her hands. “I’ve got everything right here.” Thank you, Shawn.

  “Good, we need to get started right away. The Black Forest series is already behind schedule…”

  Marlene went on about deadlines, edits, and another book she’d already started in on.

  “It’s Tabitha Harris’s latest, and I’m afraid it’s not at the level I was hoping for,” Marlene said as her heels clicked down the hall. “We have a quite a lot of work to do.”

  Crap.

  Jessie followed Marlene into her office, trying to spin her skirt around so the zipper was where it was supposed to be. Tabitha Harris was a New York Times bestseller. In other words, a huge freaking deal.

  “I want you to take the first pass on Tabitha’s new manuscript,” Marlene said.

  Jessie froze, trying to concentrate on what her boss was saying and not on the stickiness between her thighs, taunting her like a rebuke. Stop messing around with Talia’s brother, it said. And start paying attention to important things. Like making sure you still have a career and a paycheck when the summer is through.

  “What?” she said.

  “You’ll send me your notes before they get passed on, of course. But your intuition on this last book was spot on. I want to see what you’ll do on your own.”

  All she could do was stammer out her thanks. She couldn’t wait to tell her mom. She wanted to tell Talia.

  But most of all, she was bursting to tell Shawn her good news.

  A thought that freaked her out almost as much as the huge responsibility Marlene Chen, the toughest bitch in publishing, had just dropped in her lap.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shawn raced down all fourteen flights of stairs when he left Jessie’s office. He
had not been expecting that.

  Sure, it was hot to catch an eyeful of her at work, seeing that sexy skirt in action and knowing that underneath that put-together exterior was a screaming, red-blooded woman waiting to be let out—and he alone knew how to release her.

  But he never would have guessed things would go that far at her office, in the stairwell, where anyone could have found them.

  Not that he cared about getting in trouble. But it wasn’t his job on the line. He knew Jessie sure as hell cared—she hadn’t even wanted to risk being five minutes late just that morning.

  But she hadn’t been able to hold back a second time, and the thought left a sloppy, satisfied smile he could feel plastered all over his face the whole subway ride to Brooklyn.

  She needed this. More than that, she needed him. She’d said it about a million times, breathless and desperate. Even if she hadn’t said the words, he’d have known it was true.

  She needed him.

  Riding over the Manhattan Bridge, he could see the iconic spires of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Statue of Liberty out in the harbor. The skyline stretched in every direction. It was beautiful to ride the nearly empty subway car as it rattled over the water in the middle of the day. The few other people on the train had their noses buried in their phones like they’d seen it all a thousand times before. But for Shawn, it was all new, and he wanted to take in every second.

  He took out his phone, snapped a photo of the view, and sent it to Jessie with a smiley face.

  The subway dipped back into the tunnel, where service was spotty. When he got out at his station, his phone immediately vibrated with a new message. He smiled. Looked like Jessie was still thinking about him, too.

  Holy shit, she said.

  He laughed out loud, looking at his phone as he darted down the street toward the water. The brewery was housed in an old, abandoned warehouse, with an expansive view of the bay. He liked the quiet of it, the reminder that New York wasn’t just skyscrapers and office buildings and five-dollar lattes. There were so many possibilities here that he hadn’t had time to even begin to explore.