Room Mates_The Series

by Kendall Ryan

  Smith’s gaze flashed to mine with something that looked like concern. “It’s casual,” he said, directing his attention back to my brother.

  “Isn’t it always with you, my man?” Cullen said with a wide grin.

  A minute later, I managed to remove myself from the conversation with a mumbled excuse about needing to get something done, but for the rest of the morning, the scene replayed in my head.

  This thing was supposed to be exactly that. Casual. What did it matter if Smith was seeing other women?

  But, God, did it matter. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. If I kept this up with Smith—seeing him, flirting with him, kissing him—was I setting myself up for the heartbreak of the century?

  Taking another sip of coffee from my trusty to-go mug, I opened up the design program to review the campaign I’d finished last week.

  As I looked at the images of boy shorts and camisoles in the new spring line, in spite of my heartache over the reminder of Smith’s bad-boy nature, my mind wandered to much racier things . . .

  The way Smith’s full, sensual mouth slid over terms like lace bodice, sweetheart cut, and ruching made my panties wet. And instead of teasing me for my overly complicated drink order like Cullen would have, Smith memorized the damn thing. A triple-shot venti soy-mocha latte with no whip. And delivered it to my desk without fanfare. No big production. No thank-you required. He gave it to me because he wanted to, knowing it would make me happy. Simple as that. Just the fact that a man was willing to do that for me without getting anything in return sparked something inside me.

  The hardest part of all of this was that after our brief encounter, it wasn’t the sex that stuck with me. It was the intimacy that I missed. The way he’d gathered me up in his arms, pulled me in close to his chest—close enough to feel his body heat, to hear the steady thump of his heartbeat.

  I missed the care he took with me, the tenderness I felt when his fingers moved over my skin, tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I hadn’t felt that kind of close connection with a man in a long time.

  This might have been about sex when I started, but it had grown into something more. I didn’t want just sex like I’d initially thought. No, I wanted a man. And the man I wanted was Smith.

  The building’s shared receptionist/secretary, Marjorie, poked her head into our office, and I resisted the urge to fan my face.

  “You feeling okay, Evie? You look a little flushed,” she said, cocking her head as her perceptive blue eyes tried to peer into my soul.

  She was a perfect secretary. Shared by all the tenants who rented offices in this building, she was the glue that held everything together. Super organized and a real scheduling wiz, but times like this, I wish she were just a tiny bit less observant.

  I cleared my throat and pressed a hand to my cheek. “Yeah, I, uh . . . stopped at the gym during lunch for a yoga class. It’s been a while, so I’m a little overheated.”

  She stepped into my office and slid a file folder onto my desk. “Oh, cool, what gym?”

  What gym, indeed—liar, liar, pants on fire?

  “It’s not really a gym gym, per se. It’s like, you know how they have pop-up restaurants around the city? There are pop-up yoga classes. It’s sort of an underground thing, so that’s probably why you haven’t heard of it.”

  Or maybe it was the fact that they only existed in my all-too-fertile imagination?

  “Ooh, that sounds so cool! When is the next one? I’ll go with you.”

  I let out a semi-hysterical laugh that I disguised as a cough. “See, that’s the thing. You never know. Every so often, they just . . . pop up.”

  Her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth like she was going to ask more questions, but then seemed to think better of it. “Interesting. Well, in any case, keep it up. You’re positively glowing.”

  She hurried out of the office, and the second she closed the door behind her, I folded in half and banged my forehead on my desk with a groan.

  Smith wasn’t even in the room, and he was still wreaking havoc on me. My brother noticed me acting weird, and even the receptionist had known something was up. If Smith and I didn’t have sex—and soon—I was pretty sure I was going to wind up in a room with padded walls.

  I snatched up the file folder and managed to get lost in work for a while. Once I had come up with a new design concept for an ad, I headed into the copy room so I could blow up the printed version to tack on my wall and see it side by side with the last one to make sure they were different enough, but still cohesive.

  I had just tugged the still-warm sheet of paper from the copier when goose bumps popped up on my arms. A second later, warm hands slid around my midriff.

  “Want to play bad boss and naughty secretary with me?”

  Smith’s breath tickled my ear, and my nipples instantly went hard.

  “Smith, let me go. What if—”

  “Marjorie and your brother are on a conference call in the conference room down the hall. They’ll be at least ten minutes,” he murmured, nipping at my earlobe in a way that shot a bolt of heat straight through my body.

  Or they could get done early, and one of them could walk in.

  But I couldn’t get the words out because Smith’s hands were sliding up from my waist, higher until he closed them over my breasts. I gasped, and the sheet of paper fell from my limp fingers and fluttered to the floor. He pressed forward until I was pinned against the machine and could feel every inch of his rock-hard length against my ass.

  Instinctively, I ground my bottom against him, tearing a groan from his throat. My heart fluttered madly as he toyed with my nipples, rocking his hips against me.

  We shouldn’t be doing this. It was a risk that could yield horrific consequences. But, God, he felt good.

  “Your body haunts me,” he muttered, his voice hoarse in my ear. “Every time I close my eyes, I think of how sweet that pussy is.”

  I swallowed hard and reached behind me, wedging my hand between us to grab hold of his cock. “I think about you too.”

  Was that voice even mine? It was so raw, so low and full of need. I squeezed his shaft hard, and he bucked against my hand.

  One second, I was pinned against the machine, and the next, he was wheeling me around to face him. His hazel eyes blazed gold as he looked down at me.

  “I hadn’t even meant to come in here. I was going to the men’s room to wash my hands, but I smelled that scent and had to follow it. Then, there you were. That sexy silhouette. That ass. Those legs. You’re like a fucking magnet.”

  I managed a grin as I ground against him. “And you’re like steel.”

  He let out a growl and dived at my mouth, slanting his lips over mine. Ten minutes, he’d said. I couldn’t help but wonder if both of us couldn’t come in three. I knew I could. I was already on the edge.

  My entire body tingled as he swept his tongue over mine, fucking me through my clothes with hard, rolling thrusts. I curled my arms around his waist and cupped his ass, plastering him tighter against me. His kisses grew rougher, all finesse gone now, and I loved it. This Smith—wild Smith . . . risk-taker Smith—was the Smith I’d always admired. And I couldn’t deny he was bringing out that side of me too. A side that I’d let go untapped for far too long.

  I bounced my hips against him, wishing we were skin to skin, arching helplessly now as my body attempted to relieve the ache. It was only getting worse, spreading lower, stretching like taffy in the sun. I had no idea what had caused this change in him since at dinner he’d seemed intent on playing the perfect gentleman, but I liked this reckless side to him.

  I pulled my head back but didn’t stop arching against him. “What if we lock the door?” I whispered, now desperate for it. That satisfaction only Smith could give me.

  He groaned and pressed his forehead against mine. “Jesus, Evie, I want to. You have no idea how much I want to. But if the two of us are in here with the door locked, that’s a dead giveaway. Especially if you walk out l
ooking like this.”

  His cock was hitting me in exactly the right spot, and I had to choke back a whimper. “Look like what? I look the same as I always do.”

  His laugh sounded pained. “No. Your lips are pink and swollen. Your nipples are hard and your eyes are drunk with desire. In a word? You look like you’ve been fucking.”

  If only.

  But suddenly, a noise echoed down the hallway.

  “So then we’ll call him back right before end of business,” Cullen said, presumably to Marjorie.

  “Break time is over.” Smith stepped back with a sad half smile on his lips as he straightened my blouse. “I’m going to have to borrow your file folder, though.”

  My pulse pounded hard as I nodded, still in a daze. “Sure.”

  I didn’t know what he meant to do with it until he held it in front of his cock like a shield. Laughter threatened to bubble from me, and I slapped my hand over my mouth.

  He held a finger up to his lips. “Shh.” He dropped one last kiss to the tip of my nose and backed toward the door. “I’ll drop this off to you later,” he said, gesturing to the file folder. Then he disappeared out the door.

  I could hear him talking with Cullen down the hall, so I waited for a full five minutes before leaving the little copy room. Not just because I didn’t want to run into Cullen, but because that was how long it took to get my legs back under me and steady.

  Smith Hamilton was packing some seriously powerful stuff. So powerful, in fact, that I had to wonder how any woman resisted him.

  The feel of his hands tangled in my hair, the swell of his cock between my legs. In those few stolen moments, so much had changed.

  He wanted me. Maybe just as badly as I wanted him.

  And now that I knew that? All bets were off. I was willing to fight for my man.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Smith

  Damn . . . that kiss, though.

  My brain instantly supplied a mental replay, and I shifted my dick in my pants to make sitting behind a desk bearable.

  Jesus, sometimes I wondered if I had a screw loose or something, because I couldn’t make this whole thing any harder on myself if I tried. Not to mention that my thoughtless move could have jeopardized everything good in my life—my job, my relationship with Evie, my friendship with her brother.

  What if Cullen had walked in?

  All of his possible reactions flitted through my mind, and I winced. At the very least, some blood would have been shed, whether it was mine, his, or both.

  But for some reason, I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried. Once I saw Evie there, bent over the copy machine, her bottom lip pinched between those white teeth, I was done. It was like I was on autopilot. My body moved toward hers as if controlled by some otherworldly gravitational pull.

  I gritted my teeth and drummed my fingers on the desk in front of me in frustration.

  This was torture. Spending time with someone I liked as much as I liked Evie, wanting her more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life and not being able to have her, it made me feel like an addict. Twitchy, needy, and sort of desperate.

  Not a feeling I was accustomed to at all. And not a feeling I liked one bit.

  What it we gave in? Tonight, even. What if I texted her right now and asked her to meet me at my apartment after work and put an end to our shared misery?

  Then what about tomorrow when we go back to being friends?

  I swallowed a bitter laugh and raked a hand over my face.

  “Here are the numbers you asked for,” a male voice murmured.

  Adam, my assistant and an all-around nice guy, waited near my desk with a file folder in hand. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t even heard him come in.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” I took the folder without further comment, and then looked up a minute later when I realized that he was still hovering.

  He cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot. “I know it’s none of my business, but are you okay? You’ve been looking sort of weird lately. Not sick, but . . . stressed. Distracted, maybe.” He perched his glasses higher on his nose and shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I wanted to make sure you’re not working too hard or if there is something more I should be doing on my end to clear your plate.”

  I closed the file folder and blew out a sigh. I’d been dividing my time between the two offices—this one that my family ran like a well-oiled machine whether I was here or not, and of course, the new office for Sophia’s headquarters.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I hope I’m not being too much of an asshole.” I weighed my options and decided on a half truth. “It’s been difficult juggling my work here with the consulting work I’m doing at Sophia’s.”

  Adam crinkled his nose. “You sure that’s all it is? It’s not like you to let work bog you down.”

  “Okay, the truth is work is going well, so no worries there. I’ve got a woman on the brain. I like her and she likes me, but there’s a raft of shit in the way. I gotta admit, the whole thing is getting to me a little.”

  A relieved smile tugged at his lips, and I realized then that my poker face wasn’t as good as I’d thought. Poor Adam had been worried that I was going to fire him or something. Totally my fault, because I probably walked around this place looking like I was about to claw the bark off trees and start roaring.

  Not cool.

  Plus, with my new gig, I’d been spending very little time in this office lately.

  “I hear you there, boss. I’ve got a girlfriend too, and she’s bugging me about not having an engagement ring yet and all that. It can really get to a guy,” Adam said, looking a little shaken at the mention of an engagement ring. “If you ever want to meet for a beer after work and blow off some steam, let me know. I’m always down.”

  I nodded and grinned at him. “I might take you up on that. Thanks.”

  Adam backed out of my office and closed the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts again. Sure as shit, I almost begged him to come back, because my thoughts were confounding as fuck.

  There had to be a logical explanation for this. Working alongside Evie day by day had clouded my brain. Her citrusy scent that was burned into my nostrils, the sound of her laugh when she really let go, her passion for her work—all of it had left an impression that I couldn’t shake.

  Shit, I even liked watching the way she contributed at work. She enjoyed pretty things, and took pride in her work making our web presence more visually appealing. I liked that when she needed inspiration, she’d flip through fabric swatches, finger squares of delicate lace, toy with pieces of buttery-soft satin, line up neat rows of tiny pearl buttons until her next wave of brilliance struck. She was young but she was savvy, and it was incredible to watch her use her God-given talents to create something good in the world.

  All in all, my work with Sophia’s was certainly far more interesting than the number-crunching I did all day long for my parents’ company.

  My cell rang, and I snatched it up without even glancing at the number, happy for another distraction.

  “This is Hamilton,” I murmured, thumbing through the file Adam had brought.

  “Smith? It’s Arabella Christianson from Château Prive.”

  I stiffened and glanced at my desk calendar. Fuck. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Arabella’s boutiques were one of Sophia’s newest, most high-profile retailers. I had a call scheduled with her tomorrow to discuss upping our shipments. Not to mention, she and I had a sordid history.

  Just be cool.

  “Hello, Arabella, good to hear from you. I hope I didn’t mix my days up?” I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. Adam kept a tight rein on my schedule, but I couldn’t think of any possible good news that would have her calling me a day early, and I definitely wasn’t in the market for any bad news.

  “No, we’re still on for tomorrow, but I wasn’t sure whether to call you or Cullen,” she said, her tone chilly
. “I’m having an issue with your social media director.”

  Evie.

  Shit.

  I cleared my throat and sat up a little straighter, my brain already churning out potential ways to put out whatever fire was smoldering. The good news was Arabella had called me first and not Cullen. The bad news was I didn’t know if I was going to be able to help Evie, and this might have to escalate anyway.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Well, she was supposed to send me a mock-up for the social media advertising campaign yesterday, and I still haven’t received it. My concern is that if you people can’t meet a simple deadline for some shared advertising, how can I expect you to meet our shipment deadlines once we increase?”

  Her voice grew more clipped by the second, and I could tell she was building up a serious head of steam.

  “When Cullen told us he was expanding and could push out product more quickly, we took him at his word. I have seventeen stores prepping premium front-of-the-store space for the new line as we speak. If those spaces are empty come delivery time—”

  “They won’t be,” I said simply, cutting in before she could lob a threat that would really piss me off.

  Our personal shit was set aside. I was here to help Cullen make his company a financial success again, not to let myself get all pissed off and defensive on behalf of Evie. But, damn it, Evie was good at her job. No way she’d just blown off this deadline. I’d seen her bustling around the office all last week, muttering to herself about this very campaign. Something smelled fishy, and I was going to get to the bottom of it.

  “Arabella, I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I’m going to find out. Evie is the most responsible person I know, so I do believe there is an explanation. Give me fifteen minutes to get it and call you back, all right?”

  For a second, I thought she might have hung up, but then she let out an exasperated huff.

  “Fine. Fifteen minutes,” she snapped before breaking the connection.

  Just fucking dandy. I stuffed my phone in my pocket and made a beeline to the elevator. Thankfully, Sophia’s office was only a seven-minute walk from here.